She said further: “Your Uncle Lanci is Laszlo Cseke, and he subsumed the role after everything happened, after what I did transported me here. And it transported him to Munich.”
She harrumphed. It resembled a thud, but it came from her interior. She is aware of your existence, Uncle Lanci! What a nebulous connection I had formed between myself and you. But, then she said something that incited me into more bemuddlement. She said:
“Laszlo is the reason I am in here.”
If you are viewing these words, you may choke back on the piece of sandwich you are undoubtedly devouring. So when you surely hark up a piece of that sandwich, understand I tell you this because now you must tell me what you can. Are you really responsible for this person? Please explain to me what is happening, if you can make that possible.
I wanted to learn more of her, but another word failed to emit from her lips that night, and I soon fell asleep to the tinkering of my brain as it made out all the possibilities, hopes, and horrors my life would now assume. At some junction (my capsule was minus windows, so timing is murky), the guards altered and the new ones skid through. I had sunk asleep, and now they awoke me.
I picked up the guards’ noises as they invaded her (the woman’s) capsule. They conversed with her like she was a petite baby, informing her of their power to compassion her. They’ll feed her, but I heard no food happening. They spit on her, because I heard fluid bursting forth from their teeth. At the height of their taunts to her, they asked her what she possessed for them and if they would like it.
They dragged her past my cell, and I closed my eyes pretending I slept so I didn’t have to be part of it. They went only three capsules down, and when I peered my head around the corner, I could tell they had entered the cell with the big window. Light flickered through the entrance of the capsule, and I wondered, for one miniscule second, if perhaps they were donning upon her the opportunity to look outside. And then the most worse noises that have ever entered my ear did so, no matter how persistent I had been to stop it the entirety of my life. Belts flipped outward and juggled to the floor. Boots skudded and skin skudded and things skudded… the sounds of forcefulness. Of horridness.
I heard a wheeze-full sigh, and a large thud encountered the wall. Another thud happened, but with another sound, you withstand… the sound that is similar to boots, after it rains, squishing against a wet floor. The noise proliferated the atmosphere. It labored forth for three minutes like someone trudging through a puddle and belaboring something against the wall simultaneously. I heard clinching, whimpering, wincering, groaning, and another thud.
In plus, there was more horror to the case. The same situation repeated itself. Three times. When I peered down at my legs I realized I had released a piss onto the ground. The guards left without even proliferating any heed to me. I thanked my luck for that. I determined to remain patient. I said zero words and tried with all my efforts to plunge my ears with nothingness.
I succumbed to sleep again with zero awareness of the time or my fate. But I knew the fate of the woman. I had ascertained more sureness of it than anything else. Her horrific life paced betwixt me in my sleep, stalking every bit of my dreams.
I neglected to sleep for long. Someone was talking to me. It was the woman voice. She inquired of me if I enjoyed “the show.” I yelled no, and then she exerted that inhaling-exhaling laugh that incited absolute fear within me. She proceeded to say something I could not comprehend at that junction, but I think it was something about these lines: “It’s acceptable. I’m unneeding of your condolences.”
At this instance, my mind was one hundred percent bemuddled about what to say. It’s like the case when you encounter your mom, for the initial time, naked. I mean her real and evident nakedness, because now you have surpassed the age where her nakedness is an okay extension of you. It’s the age when her naked officially becomes the opposite of you. And you want to conceal your eyes away.
I sat there silenceful.
“How is it they could not do this?” the woman voice said. “They anticipate the power it fills them up with. But, the power they imagine is just that. Imagining. Not power, solely masturbation, because their actions have zero effect on me.”
She had evolved into someone so accustomed to the raping, that she transformed it into a lesson. That is when you know a person has exceeded to the lowest possible avenue… when they begin to glisten insights into horrifying situations and whittle them down to crystal logic, throwing off into the ocean any emotion. I waited to say a thing that would near rightful. I nimbly asked her how often they commit that crime against her.
“Each day,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But, why are you here? What is it?”
“Murder,” she said.
My mouth depleted all its juices from it. I felt scared and curious at the same time.
“How?” I said.
But she dragged her mind away from me instantly, because in total she responded, “It’s not about me. It’s not the fault of me. It was about him, and I was confused.”
Instantaneously, I longed to say something that would distract her from going off into the deepness. I rambled into the explication of Adrienne. You envision, Uncle Lanci, I endured to bring forth something happy toward her, and Adrienne was the initial thing I thought of. I informed her in regards to the sum of Adrienne’s imaginations, how monumental her intelligence is, how she incites laughter. I also went forth into Adrienne’s sadnesses so the woman voice would comprehend the reality and not subsume I am lying. The woman voice made no moves, no sounds. She listened as I even informed her of my plans for Munich, to discover our mom.
That’s when she spoke forth. I’m not sure if she comprehended the political atmosphere askance this capsule, but she informed me that getting to Munich and reemerging in Hungary would be gruelsome. To portend the truth, I think she subsumed correctly with regards to me. I had some interactions with the Freedom Fighters. Okay, I was one of them for a while. And now I have a jail sentence straddled atop me. How would I make it forth after all of these penalties? And how would I reemerge in Hungary? That is the upmost of importance, Uncle Lanci. For Adrienne.
So I hastened my ears to listen to her. That’s the junction, Uncle Lanci, she uncovered a tidbit that surprised me so much.
“Well, I have some tricks I am aware of on how to make it to Munich,” she said.
Okay, Uncle Lanci, I am most certain and awares of her potential insanity, but I had to pursue the offer she put before me.
“Tell me now,” I commanded.
“You need outer help, and there are envoys that go in and out of Hungary to Austria, and you can reach Germany from there,” she informed me. “Uncle Lanci, of Radio Free Europe, should announce every week the pinpoints of where these escorts convene.”
I wished you had informed me of this potential earlier, but I understand the danger in doing so and why you didn’t, Uncle Lanci.
“Where do these pinpoints exist?” I queried.
She said nothing. Before I instigated further inquisitions, the woman voice expired for the evening, muttering goodnight three to four times. My excitement threatened to climb out of my chest and hug the woman voice. When it dragged away from me and I finally calmed downward, I slipped into sleep.
When I awoke, it was to the sound of metal lugging itself through the latches. Before me stooped the most awful man I have ever witnessed. He must have been one of the beasts from yesterday in the woman voice’s capsule. He smiled, petitely, and that’s when I awared that I would endure something awful.
He clamped my mouth one hundred percent closed with some cloth. He commenced beating me everywhere: Blood. Blood in my nose. My teeth. Oh, the blood in my teeth tasted like a coin smashing about in my mouth. I couldn’t produce a single noise in defiance. I was a person incapable of defending myself, I was what they wanted me to be. I understood at that junction what the woman voice meant when she said she was nothing.