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I closed my eyes in anticipation of the lights. They blasted on againand after a moment I opened them carefully, squinting against theirpainful glare. Again, the hand went to my throat as the ball gag wasreleased.Another bottle of water appeared in front of me. This was bigger;whereas the last had been a quarter of a litre in size, this was halfa litre. Before I could react, it was against my mouth, the openingbeing forced between my teeth.As before I swallowed frantically, eyes watching the level of thewater as it churned inside the bottle, slowly -oh, so slowly!-lowering. My lungs screamed for air as I chugged it down, my captor'sgrip not allowing me to pull back.Water was dribbling out of the sides of my mouth and down my chin, butstill I drank. This time I did not choke, and as he took the emptybottle away, I sucked air in greedily.He threw the bottle into the corner of the room and stood in front ofme, still with that mask on. Loosening his grip on my throat hestroked my cheek. Her very life had been her chief concern. But now she was sure. Her blouse was removed, thrown aside no doubt in the rape. Her sandals that she’d bought in the high street when she and Tracey were happily planning the holiday: gone forever, trampled into the dusty fields outside. And her bag, with her passport, money and possessions, gone also. Never to be seen again. Along with her last hopes of ever leaving Buggery by the normal process of border control. Would she ever see home again? Would she even survive to see the world beyond the tent? What would become of her? Or of Sweetness? Did she even know that Joy had been blown to pieces? Or that the factory where she’d lived was now nothing but rubble and smoke? She gazed at the young girl sadly. So thin. So helpless. And she must have led such a sad life. Fucking for a living. And a living that had been a dank hole in the ground, in a Kingdom where her very blindness was as good as a death sentence. Whose situation was worse? Sharon.
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