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Story: Taken

I should be repulsed by their touch, by the way that they’ve taken me, and kept me trapped here, but I can’t.
All I feel is confusion, a tangled mess of emotions that I can’t make sense of.
I still have no idea how this all happened.
When did the lines blur?
When did I stop hating them?
When did I stop resisting?
I used to dream of my family—Papa and Dario—coming here, saving me.
And now…
I swallow hard, a whimper escaping my lips.
Now, all I think about is curling up into Nikolai and Mikhail, allowing them to hold me, to touch me, and to reassure me.
I want to hear their words, and I want them to tell me that everything will be okay. I want them to show me how they’ll keep me safe, keep me protected from everything else around me.
But it’s never going to happen.
I won’t allow myself to forget who they are.
I won’t allow myself to forget what they have done.
They’re dangerous men who have taken me.
I shouldn’t feel safe with them, but when they're here, it’s like everything becomes quieter.
I don’t understand how it happened.
When did I begin to crave their presence?
Their touch?
How is it that something so twisted is now starting to feel so right?
I should be terrified of them; terrified of what they’ve done, and what they can do.
But I’m not.
I’m lost.
I’m stuck between two versions of myself; one who wants to fight, to escape, and to be free, and the other who wants to stay, to trust them, and to let them take care of me.
I release a shaky breath.
How did I get here?
How did I allow them to get inside my head so easily?
Maybe it's the loneliness.
Maybe it's the isolation.
Or maybe…just maybe…it’s something deeper than that.

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