I sat at the table, staring at the tray of food Ashantii had set down earlier. The smell of eggs and toast filled the air, but I couldnât bring myself to take a bite. My stomach churned with a mix of anger, fear, and something I hated to admitâexhaustion.
*You have to eat, Tiana,* I told myself. *You have to think clearly. You have to be smart.*
I reached for the fork with trembling fingers and started eating slowly. Each bite felt like a betrayal of everything inside me screaming to fight back, but I knew I couldnât afford to act on impulse. Not now. Ashantii was watching me too closely.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on me like a hawk, her arms crossed but her expression soft. âThatâs my good girl,â she said quietly, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
I didnât respond. I didnât even look at her. I focused on my plate, chewing mechanically, my mind racing.
*If I argue, sheâll tighten her grip. If I resist, sheâll find new ways to control me.*
This was a game now, one I didnât ask to play but had no choice in. And if I wanted to winâif I wanted my freedomâI needed to play smart.
---
After finishing breakfast, I pushed the tray aside and stood. Ashantiiâs eyes followed my every move, but I kept my expression neutral, my actions deliberate.
âIâm going to get ready for the day,â I said, my voice steady but detached.
Her eyebrows rose slightly, but she didnât stop me. âAlright,â she said, leaning back on the bed. âTake your time.â
I walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. The moment I was alone, I let out a shaky breath. My reflection stared back at me, tired and defeated, but beneath the surface, something else flickeredâdetermination.
*I can do this,* I thought. *I have to do this.*
I turned on the water, letting it run as I splashed my face. The coolness steadied me, grounding me in the moment. As I dried my face, I whispered to myself, barely audible over the waterâs hum.
âYou need to act normal. She needs to believe youâre okay. Prove to her you donât need to be watched every second. Earn her trust, and then... then youâll figure out how to get out of here.â
The plan wasnât perfect, but it was all I had.
---
I emerged from the bathroom freshly dressed and brushed, my hair pulled back neatly. I walked to the desk in the corner of the room, where my laptop sat waiting. Ashantii had returned it, a calculated move to keep me placated, no doubt.
âIâm going to work,â I said plainly, sitting down and opening the device.
She smiled, standing from the bed. âSee? I knew youâd come around. Iâm proud of you, Tiana.â
Her words stung, but I didnât let it show. Instead, I typed away, pretending to immerse myself in emails and lesson plans.
---
Hours passed, and Ashantii eventually left the room to attend to something in the kitchen. The moment the door closed behind her, I paused, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. My mind raced with possibilities.
"Should I try emailing someone for help? But what if she checks my laptop? Sheâd know immediately."
I leaned back in my chair, biting my lip as I thought.
"No, I canât risk it yet. I need to be sure she trusts me first. Maybe if I keep this upâif I stay calm and cooperativeâsheâll loosen her grip."
The idea of waiting, of playing this long, quiet game, made my skin crawl. But I knew it was the only way.
---
By the time evening rolled around, Iâd settled into a routine of silent compliance. I ate dinner without complaint, answered Ashantiiâs questions with curt but polite responses, and even managed a faint smile when she kissed me goodnight.
But the moment she left the room, I let my mask slip.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands trembling as I stared at the floor. My mind replayed everything that had happened over the past few hours, the weight of it threatening to crush me.
"Stay strong,"I told myself. "Youâve already started. You can do this."
I lay down, staring at the ceiling as the darkness of the room closed in around me. My heart ached with the longing for freedom, for the life I once had, for the woman I thought I knew.
But as I closed my eyes, a new thought took rootâa small, fragile hope that whispered, This isnât over. Not yet.