By Bondagegimp
The decision
Now! Now I have to decide! FUCK! I’ve known for days, but for days I haven’t been able to! I’m torn! I can’t decide. The last long conversation with Bob three days ago only made things worse. I haven’t slept well since. I lay in bed brooding until I finally fell asleep from exhaustion. Then I had wild dreams. Of Bob, lying happily on a beach with me, like in a normal relationship. Of Bob, holding me captive in his dungeon for days, torturing me. Of a life without Bob, because I left him. When I wake up, I can barely shake the feelings. And either way, they aren’t good feelings. No scenario makes me happy.
The dream of us on the beach started off lighthearted, carefree. In the dream, it felt so good to simply be with Bob, to have a normal relationship with him. But then Bob’s gaze meets mine — an empty gaze, without passion, a gaze that triggers a deep feeling of bitter disappointment within me. It’s that feeling you get when you’ve known for a long time that a relationship has ended, but only that one look reveals the truth you’ve long suppressed — it’s over. A stab in the heart. And neither the white sand nor the aquamarine water of the paradisiacal setting can console me. The stab in the heart makes me bleed. In the dream, I feel the stab and then see my blood flowing onto the white sand, into the aquamarine water. Everything turns black. When I wake up, I feel empty, utterly empty.
Try as I might, all I could possibly see outside was mown grass. One by one, the doors to the cells opened. The guys in green pushed a gentleman’s head down. They kept us from hitting our heads as we shuffled, hunched, out of the cage. Thank you. The familiar face left. I wouldn’t see it again for hours. But my sense of time was gone. I had no watch. I had no phone. They were in my luggage, which was labeled “Lukas” on blue painters tape, in a clear plastic bag labeled “Lukas” on blue painters tape. Every rule I had seen, every request thus far, I had followed to the letter. I didn’t want to be a target. I needed to be good.
I think I’m at the right spot. None of us have ever been here before. The guy that was supposed to drive cancelled three days ago. I volunteered because I get motion sickness in the back seat, but being the young guy I feel I have to take the worst seat. I like the power and control that driving gives me. But it also means when something goes wrong, it’s my fault. One of the two others in the car is telling me to follow the GPS. I’m trying to match the red circle on a screenshot to Google Maps. He tells me to turn right. I don’t. I block out everything he’s saying, trying to focus on what instinctually feels right. I keep driving and then find a parking lot with a dozen cars, and an old white school bus with paint over whatever label it used to have.