My Bloody Revenge

"Are you okay?" Lydoran asks with concern clear in his voice.

"No..." Lyra confesses meekly. Fear still has a firm grip on her. Jaze walks in after leaving all the shopping bags in her room. He sits down next to Lyra and shifts them around so she sits between his long legs with her back resting against his chest. His hair points in all directions indicating that he repeatedly has been running his fingers through it.

"Can I ask who that was?" Lydoran continues.

"That was Greg, a very close friend to Elmir."

“Elmir?"

"Elmir is her husband.” Jaze fills in.

"You're married?" he asks in disbelief. "Wow, never saw that one coming. How old are you? You don't look so old. How is that possible?”Lydoran keeps rambling.

"I turned twenty a month before Jaze found me."

Jaze, thinking Lyra has had enough, tells Lydoran what he heard from her a few days back. While talking Lydoran goes from shocked to angry the more he hears and Jaze understands where he comes from.

"Can I show him?" Jaze whispers in her ear.

Trusting them she merely nods and leans forward, allowing Jaze to take her shirts off. All her scars are on display. Silence lingers like a thick cloud around the room while she feels Lydoran's eyes on her. Looking at him she sees sadness, anger, hurt and to her surprise tears falling from those beautiful eyes. Reaching out she gently wipes them away. "Don't cry..."

"Why did he do this to you?"

Involuntarily she shivers when his fingers gently stroke against one of her scars. He helps her put the shirts back on again and sits down in front of her and Jaze. Holding his hand, she absentmindedly plays with is fingers. "To Emir I was nothing more than a well-trained doll he could put on display as he saw fit. My only purpose was to be a luxury whore with a brain. When I, in any way made him look bad, or angered him, I got punished for it." Getting hugged tightly by Jaze she leans into him. Loving the warmth and comfort he provides. "His favorite thing to was to dress me up and leave me with Greg at someone's grand ball or cocktail party. My orders where to behave and follow orders but Greg also had orders. I was not to be harmed or kissed anywhere in the face.”

"He let others use you?" Lydoran whispers out shocked

"I often saw other girls at those events but none was dressed like me. Not even close. They often had skimpy fabrics on and was used freely by anyone and in public. All around my age. The youngest can't have been older than twelve."

"How long?"

"From fifteen but he visited me since I was ten. He was the one paying for my education, food and clothes. It wasn't until later I understood I was bought and trained. By gaining my trust at an early age he could mold me easily."

"He used your situation against you to gain what he longed for. Power." Jaze commented. "Power is true but that can't be the only reason. He seems to care in some sick twisted way since many of the scars appears treated and looked after. And then the rule about not kissing or harming.” Lydoran chimes in thoughtfully.

"Ownership?" Jaze throws in.

"In a ball room filled with under aged slaves that are broken, who gets to shine when walking around with a well-educated docile doll in fancy clothing? Eimir of course and what does he gain? Profit. Those who bids high enough gets to taste his most prized possession. People with money envies him and that is power.” Lydoran concludes repulsed.

Lyra never thought that maybe all those men actually payed and knowing how well he used and exploited her under all those years makes her sick. There is so much she doesn’t understand about her own life but at least one thing has become utterly clear to her and that is the reason behind keeping her locked up. The need to control everything. EImir has kept her ignorant by telling her what to read, how to dress and always keeping her among people same as him. "Can we watch some movies? Don't want to talk or think about him anymore.”

"Whatever you wish, love. Hungry?"

"Pizza?" Lyra asks hopefully really loving Lydoran’s cooking.

"One chicken/mozzarella and one cheese and ham?"

"Pepperoni instead of ham please.”

"How about a big slumber party?" Jaze suggests. "We could watch a bunch of movies and eat junk food until we fall into a sugar coma.”

Smiling she nods eagerly, loving the idea. Standing up she bolts for her room shouting. "PAJAMA!"

For a little while longer she wants to stay that ignorant girl who managed to escape and find another life. A life without constant fear among people who supports her instead of degrading.