It was the same circuit, round and round, all while Maxim watched me from where he sat on the bottom step of the staircase. Day and night no longer existed for me: I stayed alone in the dark until he visited, turned on the lights that were too bright, and removed the handcuff from my right wrist so I could stretch my legs for an hour. I spoke only when spoken to. I only looked at him when I had to; I didn’t ask questions anymore, because he never gave me the answers. I followed his orders, his rules, and hoped that one day I would wake up from the horrendous nightmare. ‘You’re getting bigger,’ he said from the bottom step, eyeing my stomach as he bit into an apple. I didn’t respond, and continued to walk round and round the room at a slow pace. I listened to him chew the mouthful of apple. ‘Have you felt anything? Any pain? Any movement?’ I shook my head as I walked. It was a lie. I felt the baby move all the time. This was how I defied him: I kept things from him. I refused to give him everything.
