Fighting in the dark

CHAPTER 3

Sylvia fluttered her eyes open, which was followed by a resounding ache on her forehead. The bulb over her head danced in circular motions before it slowly—and painfully—stopped, peering into her tired eyes.

She was running, running to find freedom, then her strength failed her and she slumped. That was all she could remember.

Where am I? She wondered, contemplating if Marco finally caught up and brought back to one of the torturing rooms hiding under the manor. Her eyes caught a stool carrying needles, water, curved metal plate with a table knife inside it. Her eyes bulged and unconsciously let out a piercing scream. The door flung open.

"Ma'am! God, you woke up sooner than-" the nurse said, stretching out her hands to touch her but Sylvia slapped it away before it got any nearer.

She curved herself into a ball muttering, "Let me go."

The nurse massaged the back of her arm, wincing, but stepped back a little bit to calm the woman. "Ma'am, please calm down. You were brought in this morning-"

"Brought in?" Sylvia questioned, furrowing her brows. "Where am I?" she asked, finally looking around the room.

The nurse tilted her head to make sure this woman was stable mentally. She slightly coughed before continuing, "You are in the hospital. You were really… in a bad shape when a man brought you in this morning."

She gasped. Her husband never took her to any hospital in the six years she lived with him. But then again, he was a very unpredictable person. How did he ever catch her? He left Marco to find her and he failed horribly. Well, as far as her memories could orivide. She sighed, suddenly remembering her husband had the power to find her if he wanted to.

"Where is he?"

"He left." the nurse simply stated, "but I'm sure he will be back soon."

She nodded. I can use this time to escape, she thought. Her mind spiralled again, looking at the windows and doors in the room. The nurse noticed her patient was swimming in her own thought given on how hard she was biting her lip.

"You will be free to go soon, as your injuries weren't that deep though most of them affected your underfeet and ankle."

How was she supposed to run when her legs aren't even going to get her far?

"I'll do a final check up. Make sure you don't allow water near those sutures and… if you are in trouble…" the nurse's eyes showed absolute concern, "you can let me know or the doctor that will be attending to you soon." she concluded with an endearing smile.

Sylvia almost smiled but she kept it in and said, "Thank you. But I'm fine."

The nurse obviously didn't buy it, but she kept her smile and nodded. "Alright then, I'll go get the doctor. You can lie on the bed while you wait."

Immediately the nurse closed the door behind her, Sylvia got to her feet, wincing at the pain that shot through her leg. "Fuck! I can't run, what am I going to do?" she muttered to herself.

Wherever Dominique went, he didn't want to give her another chance to escape. She peeped through the window, her eyes scanning the environment. Her brows creased in frustration. She had contemplated jumping, but her room was in the third floor: it was too high from the ground level.

The door clicked open, and Sylvia jerked back in fear but released a sigh when she realised who entered.

The doctor paused, watching her with intelligent blue eyes, then looked at her feet and wore a frown. "You are not meant to be on your feet. You will reopen those injuries."

"Oh!" No wonder it still hurts. Sylvia sheepishly smiled, limping back to the hospital bed. "I tend to forget easily."

"Hmm" was all the doctor managed to say. Her brown hair was packed in a bun. It was smooth and neatly combed, Sylvia noticed it and began thinking of how messy her hair looked. The doctor found a sit, sat down and took Sylvia's leg to check it.

"Just incase the sutures tear again, you can come back to get a new one."

"Thank you. When will I be free to go?"

The doctor placed her leg carefully on the ground. "The nurse didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" she asked, watching the doctor gracefully write something in a piece of paper.

"Your husband told me specifically to keep you here until he comes back," the doctor said, not removing her eyes from the white paper.

Sylvia paled, struggling to say anything. Dominique will do everything in his power to take her back to that villa, and even increase the guards attending to her room. And what he will do to her now that she dared to escape, she shuddered from the thoughts.

The doctor noticed and looked at her with concern. "Are you fine?"

She couldn't go back, she couldn't relive another six years inside that prison. She had escaped and it would remain so forever. Her eyes darted to the doctor that was still looking at her, she will take every chance she has to escape, so she asked, "Can I trust you?"

That wasn't what the doctor expected, regardless, she responded, "Yes – yes, you can. What do you need?"

She gulped. "I need to escape before my husband comes back. Can you help me?"

"Escape?"

Sylvia nodded and grabbed the doctor's palms. "My– my husband beats me up and treats me like a prisoner. I – I can't go back there. Help me escape. Please."

"Oh God." the doctor muttered, widening her eyes. She had seen the scars on her back and they were so gruesome to talk about. She didn't need further convincing. "I will help you." she could have sworn Sylvia's shoulders slumped immediately. "since you can't walk now, let me get a wheelchair."

Sylvia didn't even get the chance to say thank you before the doctor dashed out of the room with a speed that was unusual for her profession.

It didn't take minutes before she returned, holding the wheelchair. She held Sylvia's hand and helped her to sit comfortably before she wheeled her out.

"We will be taking the back door because there's no camera there."

Sylvia nodded. But then she realised she had nowhere to go, no phone or even money to her name, everything she had, Dominique owned. The doctor understood the worry that had appeared on Sylvia's face but didn't say anything.

Without a word travelling between them, she pushed the wheelchair to the garage, and brought out her car key, giving it to a young man that was already standing in wait. "Take her to my house safely, make sure she's comfortable when she gets there."

Sylvia debated what to do. Yes, she had asked the doctor for help. But she'd also considered it would come in the form of money. She didn't expect to be taken to the doctor's home. What if they were kidnappers? Rapists? What if—

Exhaling, she banished the thoughts, reminding herself that she'd survived Dominique. She could survive anywhere.

When she looks up, she found the doctor's eyes on her. She felt small under the watchful gaze of the doctor's driver. The doctor turned to her with a little smile. "I never got to know your name."

"Sylvia. Sylvia Marshall. Thank you so–"

"Save it. You can do that later when I'm home. I'm Claire Harrison, but you can call me Clary."