Bride Auction: Chapter 2 - You are Here

YOU

Inside, an older woman in a navy-blue dress with gold accents greets us. Next to her is a younger female wearing a plainer version of the same dress.

Woman hands coat to the auntie. “Throw it away.” She nods at me. “Clean her up. Feed her.”

“Yes, Madam.”

The couple leave me in the foyer with the uniformed ladies.

The auntie’s expression is neutral as she takes in my appearance. Then she turns to the younger woman. “Follow Madam’s instructions.”

YOU

I wait in the foyer while the young woman disappears. A few minutes later, she returns and leads me upstairs to a bathroom. She hands me a stack of things. “Do you require anything else, miss?”

I'm not sure how to answer this question. I think I require a lot of things, but I'm not sure if I'm suppose to ask for anything. Finally, I shake my head.

She backs out of the bathroom and shuts the door. I examine the clothes. A pair of cotton panties. New. In a plastic bag. Pajamas. Two pieces. A short-sleeved top and pants. A pair of thick socks. Toothbrush. Still in its package.

I put it all on the counter and explore the space. Lots of white marble and copper fixtures. The floor is warm under my bare feet.

I look at the large white tub and think about what it would be like to soak in it. With bubbles. Rose petals. I’ve never taken a bath. In the TV shows Doris sometimes lets me watch with her, I’ve seen pretty ladies submerge in milky water. They look happy.

The not-real boy sits on the edge of the tub. Bounces red ball inside it. Release. Bounce. Catch.

A frosted glass door opens into a shower room.

I step inside.

There's a digital panel. I choose water pressure. Temperature. Duration.

Clear, hot water falls from the ceiling. Like rain.

Built-in shelf filled with bottles and containers and tubes. Conditioner. Shampoo. Soap. Scrub.

I use them all.

Dirt and blood swirl into the drain.

When I’m done, I feel clean.

It’s another kind of freedom.

On the far side of the shower room is a stand filled with fluffy towels. When I take one, it feels warm. I realize the stand is some sort of heater.

I wrap my hair in one. My body in another. I step into the outer bathroom. In the drawers, I find toothpaste. Floss. Hairbrush. And two butterfly barrettes made from shiny pink gems.

Under the cabinet, a hair dryer.

I rub the soft towel over my body. Dry my hair. Put on underwear. Pajamas. Brush my hair. My teeth. I rub my tongue along my teeth. Smooth. Tastes like mint. I clip the barrettes into my hair. One on each side.

I have blonde hair. It’s soft. Long. Long enough to touch my hips. I look at myself in the mirror. Gray eyes. Maybe. Not sure. I study my face. Clear, pale skin. Full lips. High cheekbones.

Am I pleasing to look at?

I want to please the woman and man. Maybe I’m not at home. Maybe I will go somewhere else. Anywhere else is fine. As long as they don’t send me back to Doris.

“Your hair is like sunshine.” In the mirror, I see the boy standing behind me. He lifts a curl of my hair. Not really.

How could he?

But he’s been my only companion for so long, it’s easy to imagine what he would be like if he was real. He would definitely tug on a curl. Smile at me. “You’re pretty, Jin-Jin.”

“Am I?” I look at him in the mirror. The boy who only exists for me. “Why did you call me Jin-Jin?”

“Isn’t that what I’ve always called you?”

Is it? I feel a pull in my mind. A pulse in the back of my head. Something heavy and dark wants to show itself. “No,” I mutter.

I open the bathroom door. The young woman is there. She stares at me, open-mouthed.

I put my hand against my face. Touch the barrettes in my hair. “Is something wrong?”

“No. No, not at all.” She clears her throat. “Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t address me as ma’am. I’m a servant. Did you put on deodorant?”

“No.”

She leads me back into the bathroom. Shows me the deodorant. How to twist. Push the powdery nub upward. I put it under my shirt and rub it under my arms like she tells me.

“Here.” She takes a glass bottle from the drawer. “I’ll spray this. You walk through it. You never want to douse yourself in heavy scents.”

“I understand.”

She sprays.

I walk through.

Then she leads me out of the bathroom.

YOU

The servant takes me to a long table in a huge dining room. At one end of the table is food. I stare at the fragrant chicken breasts, baby carrots in a glimmering sauce, the slices of soft bread. There’s a glass of warm milk, too.

“Sit down and eat, miss.”

“You want me to ... eat?”

She frowns. “Is it not to your liking? I’ll have the chef make something else.” She reaches for a platter.

“No!” I can’t help it. Tears spill down my cheeks. “I’ll eat it. I’ll eat it, okay?”

I’m afraid if I hesitate much longer, the servant will take away the food. I sit down. Grab the chicken with my hands and stuff it in my mouth.

Juice runs down my chin.

It tastes so good.

I’ve never tasted anything this wonderful. I swallow. Next, the bread. A whole slice. I can barely chew, but I don’t care.

She shakes my shoulder, talks rapidly. I don’t hear what’s she saying.

She runs out of the dining room.

I hurry to eat as much as I can. The carrots are hot, but I eat one, two, three.

More chicken.

More chicken.

Carrots. Four. Five. Six.

I’m crying.

“Slow down, Jin-Jin.” The boy stands next to me. Red ball clutched in fist. “You’re hurting yourself. Stop.”

Woman and man arrive. Another man is behind them. Older. Gray hair. Wire-rim glasses. Brown cable knit sweater over brown pants.

I wrap my hands around the chicken platter, drag it toward me. I eat faster. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp.

“This child is starving,” says the gray-haired man. “It’s not good for her to eat such a heavy meal right off the bat.”

I don’t want to let go of the platter, but the chicken is almost gone. My stomach roils. Squeezes. Cold prickles rush up my spine. I scramble off the chair. Fall. On my knees. Tears. Sweat.

I throw up.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Shaking. Cold. Sweat pearls. Face. Neck. Chest.

Then...

Darkness.

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