“Put me down!” I exclaimed to the two giant men who were holding my arms tightly and carrying/dragging me into what appeared to be a giant mansion. They ignored me, as they had been since the moment I had been taken captive, right off the street. I stopped struggling and started observing what was around me, if I ever got the chance to escape, I wanted to be alert enough to make it to freedom.

Once we made it to the main doors, which were massive and made of some very old type of wood, I was taken into the first room on the right, clearly a sitting room, and told to wait there, then locked inside, and left alone. I had no clue what I had done wrong, or what was even happening, but I knew I needed help and definitely wouldn’t get any if I stayed in that room forever.

I tried the windows, but of course they didn’t even open and I knew the door was locked from the outside, probably being guarded by the giants who had carried me inside, so I carefully began searching the perimeter of the room for anything that might help me escape or at least fight back. It seemed like everything except the books were held down by something, so once I couldn’t move anything, I went back over to the bookcases and searched for the largest book I could find, hoping to use it as a weapon at some point.

I chose the one I thought looked the best but then noticed it had the most beautiful illustrations inside, so even though I could not read the language, I still began looking over all the pages, now so focused on the book I had forgotten my goal entirely.

Two hours went by and nothing changed, except that my feet hurt because I had somehow lost my shoes in the struggle when I first got taken. I tried not to think about it, since there was clearly nothing I could do, then decided to rest my head, just for a minute, because I found a safe corner of the room, behind the couch, where I wouldn’t be noticed, or so I thought.

“How bad is she hurt?” he asked, sending one of the giants to check on me. The giant found me asleep, holding the open book, leaning against the bookcase and told the boss it seemed like just my feet were hurt.

“Bring her to my sitting room, so I can see for myself. I should not have sent you to handle such a delicate matter- next time I will go myself and make things easier for everyone,” he replied, annoyance dripping from his voice. I was then lifted and carried to another room but only stirred a little when I was picked up because all the stress my body had felt before had forced me into shutdown mode.

I was set carefully on a couch, then left alone with the person who seemed like the boss, but since I was sleeping, I had no idea. He gently removed my socks and saw the damage his employees had done, vowing to never send them on tasks ever again. He sighed loudly and brought a small bowl closer to me, using a cloth and warm water, he carefully cleaned my wounds, then covered them with bandages. He knew I would not be able to walk for a while and was just forming a plan when I murmured something in my sleep, startling him. He waited silently, but when I did not wake, he felt relieved and continued his original thinking.

When I woke a few hours later, I had no sense of time, as the room was pitch black, I was now on a bed somehow, and my feet were causing me pain. I sat up, looked around, then swung my legs off the bed, attempting to stand. The noise from my fall must have woken him because he was suddenly by my side, asking me if I was ok, but since I didn’t speak his language, I could only stare at him, confusion and pain all over my face.

He carefully lifted me up, carried me to the couch, then placed me on it, turned on a lamp nearby and crouched in front of me, examining my feet. I watched him check every bandage as meticulously as he has done when he first put them on, then he looked right into my eyes and asked me something in a kind voice, but I couldn’t understand and my whole body ached from being taken earlier, so the only response he got was my silent tears on my cheeks.

At first, he seemed shocked, like he wasn’t expecting me to react in such a way, then he became concerned, worried about me, even though he could not see anything wrong. He looked around the room, searching for something invisible, as we were the only two living things I could see. He got up, retrieved something from across the room, returned to me, holding out a notebook and pen. He motioned for me to write inside it, so I reached out my hand to grab it, shaking the whole time, and once he saw my hand, he realized he was going to need to give me a little more assistance.

He sat next to me, holding the notebook, while I wrote what was wrong. Once he read that my head and feet were hurting, he nodded, then wrote back that he could help me if I told him what I wanted. I wrote that I needed some pain medicine, so he nodded, then pointed at the door, apparently telling me he knew where it was kept. I don’t think he trusted me to be alone because he simply picked me up and carried me right out of the room, then into what I assume was a bathroom, but it was so large it honestly looked like a spa.

There was a huge bathtub right in the middle, then several smaller doors surrounding the perimeter of the room, with a few sinks sprinkled in, and a few massive closets. He set me on one of the counters, next to a sink, then reached into the cabinet next to it, pulling out some medicine from a basket, and handed it to me. I couldn’t read any of the labels, so I just stared at him, which is when he realized the issue and gently placed some into my hand, motioning for me to swallow them, as he handed me a water bottle, I swear came out of nowhere.

I took the medicine, hoping it was actual just for pain, then pointed to one of the smaller doors, hoping it was where the actual toilet was. He understood immediately, carried me right to it, opened the door, and helped me stand just enough to actually use it. He turned on the light and closed the door, leaving me to have some privacy, which I was thankful for. When I finished, he opened the door and carried me back to the sink, where I washed my hands and then drank some more water.

He carried me back into the room and placed me right onto the bed, covering me with the blankets, then sat in a chair next to the bed, just watching me. I did not understand what was happening but was so tired from the pain and it being the middle of the night I quickly fell asleep again, which he was counting on.

I woke several hours later, assumed it was morning, and looked around, but everything seemed different. Turns out, after I had fallen asleep, he had moved me to another room, wanting to make things easier for me. This room was smaller, with the bathroom directly off the main sleeping area, only one toilet and sink, but still with the tub in the middle of the room. I sat up and felt dizzy, which confused me because I knew I should be feeling better after the medicine he had given me.

I thought my feet would be able to handle the short walk to the bathroom this time, but I was wrong. The instant I stepped onto the cold wooden floor, my legs wobbled and I fell, but this time I was also dizzy, so I couldn’t tell what to grab onto and ended up smacking my face on the bedframe. That’s how he found me, holding my hands over my face, blood covering me, my eyes wide with shock.

He swooped me up and ran to the bathroom, setting me on the counter, grabbing a washcloth and holding it over my nose, pushing my hands away, then inspecting my entire face, frowning and tightening his lips periodically as he looked for my injury. Luckily, it was only my nose, so he was able to stop the bleeding fairly quickly, then shook his head when he stepped back and saw me, covered in blood, matted into my hair, all over my clothes. He closed his eyes for a second, leaned his head on the closet door, and sighed, mumbling something to himself, then stood, resolute, and spoke to me like I would do whatever he commanded.

I could only blink up at him, just now realizing how tall he was, trying to figure out what he wanted. He then pointed to the tub, then touched my hair, and pointed to my clothes. Ah, he wanted me to get clean. Once I understood, I nodded, then held up my hands, signaling that I had nothing with me to bathe.

He seemed to understand and opened the closet he was standing next to, revealing bath towels, bottles of what I assumed were shampoo, etc. and extra clothing. I pretended to write something, so he ran from the room and returned with the notebook, then handed me the pen, where I asked if he could put the shampoo, conditioner, face wash, and body wash/bubble bath on the edge of the tub for me, so I could reach it. He quicky found the items and carried them over, lining them up for me to reach, motioning what each one was, so I would know the order.

When he made it back to me, I had written another note, asking how I was going to bathe alone, when I couldn’t even stand up or walk? He ran his fingers through his hair, then wrote back that a female staff member would be helping me, as he would not be in the room at that time. I thanked him for respecting my privacy and he smiled shyly, nodding, then took the notebook and set it next to me.

As he did, I noticed his shirt also had my blood on it, so I reached out to touch it and apologized for ruining his clothing. He froze, staring at my hand, touching his shirt, then he stared at me, and I yanked my hand back, worried he was angry. He didn’t get a chance to react because a female dressed in a maid’s outfit appeared, which allowed him to escape from the room quickly.

She helped me tiptoe over to the tub, undress, and get into the water, which she didn’t make too hot because my feet were stinging from the bubbles already and it was painful. Once I was able to begin washing the blood off, I felt so much better and even though I didn’t understand what she was saying, I heard her happy tone of voice, so I was laughing and having a good time, covered in bubbles, my long hair now hanging everywhere, dark and smooth.

I didn’t realize he was there until I heard him clear his throat, then the maid stood up, telling him the progress we had made, I assumed. He refused to look at me, kept his eyes only on the maid, and left barely a minute after arriving, wasting no time at all. She was helping me with my face because I couldn’t see where I had missed and soon, I was clean enough to be done, so she helped me step out, then dry off and dress in the only clothes we had available, clearly some of his extras. I had nothing of my own, not even undergarments, so I used a pair of random boxers, then a giant pair of pj pants, a tank top, t-shirt, and a giant hoodie. I looked like I was homeless, but since it was literally the only clothing we could find, I had to accept my fate. She helped me carefully apply lotion to my face, then began brushing my long hair, me sitting on a stool we had found.

When he came in this time, he announced himself, so I turned to face him, smiling, my long, wet hair falling across my eyes, acting like a dark curtain, expecting him to smile back, but the only response I got was a stare, him running his hand through his hair again, and a frown, then he disappeared again. I sighed, wondering what I had done to make him so upset. She helped me rebandage my feet, then we added a pair of enormous socks (clearly his) so I could at least shuffle around on my own.

I thanked her for helping me and once she had French braided my hair, she began cleaning up the clothes and towels for the laundry, so I carefully shuffled back to the bedroom, then fell onto the couch, exhausted and aching again. I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I remember is his cool hand touching my forehead and him saying something in a tone I hadn’t heard before.

I woke up sometime later, on the bed, then looked around to see if I was alone. Once I saw him sitting next to me, pretending to read, I waved to get his attention, then pointed to the notebook. He quickly handed it to me, with the pen, and anxiously watched me write. I asked what had happened, which he then wrote back and explained I had somehow gotten a fever, so he had called a doctor to come check me and sure enough, my feet had become infected, so now they had been treated properly and I was on the mend, after also receiving a special medication through an IV.

I then told him I was feeling cold, so he stood up and made sure I was covered by the blanket on the bed, but saw me shivering and couldn’t stand it, so he scooted me over and cuddled me until I was warm enough on my own. I fell asleep in his arms, my head resting on his chest, my hand holding the front of his shirt, not knowing that he had never been able to trust anyone enough to experience anything like it before. He apparently also fell asleep because when he awoke, I was still in his arms, sleeping peacefully, with my face so close to his he could see my eyelashes. He sighed and leaned his forehead on mine, then whispered something to himself, but of course I had no idea.

When I woke up, I was alone, sunlight streaming through the curtains, and I heard birds chirping outside. I stretched and sat up, looking around the room, slightly confused, but then started to remember how I had gotten there in the first place. I lifted the blanket back and swung my legs over the side, just laughing at how long the pj pants were, when he ran into the room suddenly, completely shirtless, panicking.

I could only stare as he sprinted over to me, knelt down in front of me, and exclaimed something while he was out of breath. I grabbed the notebook and told him I was just waking up, but he answered that I was not allowed to do anything alone because I always seemed to get hurt. I was upset and stubborn, so I stood up anyway, not realizing the pj pants would trip me, but when I fell forward this time, he caught me.

I was mad for a few seconds, then I accepted my fate and just leaned on him, my hands on his bare back, completely trusting him with my life, which I think he must have realized because he smoothed my wild hair and kissed the top of my head, then whispered something and sighed, wrapping his incredibly strong arms around me. For a moment, I was happy, safe, and felt like I could trust him, even though I was still unsure of what was happening or who he even was. When he let go and leaned back, he looked right at my face, saw my double black eye bruises from the night before, then noticed my clothes, and his eyes got really big, like he hadn’t realized how terrible I really looked.

He grabbed the notebook and scribbled something furiously, then handed it to me, clearly irritated, where I read that he couldn’t believe I was forced to wear such baggie clothing that didn’t even fit. I laughed, then wrote that he should calm down- it was the only thing we could find the day before and if he was so angry, maybe he should not stuff his old clothes into the closet in the first place. Maybe he should find clothing that fits people who aren’t giants. He rolled his eyes, then wrote about solving the problem, but not right then, since he wanted me to eat something finally, to help me heal. I nodded, then asked where I should go, but he never answered because he simply picked me up and began walking.

I instinctively threw my arms around his neck, being careful not to hold on too tightly as he walked, but he was so focused on the route, I doubt he even noticed what I was doing at all. He carried me straight to what appeared to be the kitchen, with a little dining nook, setting me carefully on one of the benches that was attached to the wall, then speaking directly to a man who looked like he was in charge of that area.

After about ten minutes, I got bored, since I was hungry and still not feeling that well, and decided to just rest my eyes for a second… Next thing I know, I’m being woken up by the chef, who is actually speaking my language and telling me to eat some food to gain some strength. I sat up, groggy, but then saw all the food in front of me and gasped- it was too much! That’s when he entered the room again, sitting directly across from me, raising his eyebrows when I stared at him, now fully dressed in a sweater and dress pants, while I continued to look terrible. The chef explained what everything was, then I took a few bites and did a little happy dance, not knowing he was watching my every move, hiding behind the newspaper, pretending to be focused on reading it.

I had no idea it was all an act the entire time I was eating and chatting with the chef, or I might have changed my actions/words, but it was too late by then. I was curious about where we were (chef wouldn’t answer), why I had been taken (he refused this as well), why I was being treated so nicely now after yesterday (he honestly didn’t know), and mostly I just wanted to find someone who understood me. I had no clue that the boss could understand every single thing I was saying, he just pretended not to.

When I was full, I told the chef I was going to find the library again, since there were so many books I had not been able to look at, causing the boss to stand up and begin arguing with me, while I stared up at him, unsure of how to respond. He realized his mistake only after his outburst, then looked for my reaction, but I was too stunned at that moment. He stormed from the room, I assume because he was embarrassed about lying to me, but also because I literally could not comprehend why he had hidden the truth from me.

I am stubborn and determined, so when I made up my mind, I slowly shuffled my way into the massive hallway, then randomly found a different room, this one filled with plants. I love gardens and plants, so I was extremely happy to find them, especially since it was warm, like a tropical place, with a giant hammock in the middle. It was so tempting I could not pass by, carefully lowering myself into it, then accidentally falling asleep from the gentle rocking I had created, the smell of the flowers intoxicating and lulling me into my dreams.

Two hours later, he finally found me, asleep, peacefully tucked away in the flower room. He circled me several times, fuming and ready to argue or yell or something because how dare I disappear without a trace and not tell him where I would be? How dare I go anywhere alone, when my health matters more than his own? He began to calm down on the second lap around me, so by the third lap, he was ready to accept that maybe I was just curious and not feeling well enough to make it back upstairs. Maybe I just needed to recharge after breakfast and maybe I loved gardens as well. He sighed, unsure of what he was going to do with me, afraid to be away for too long, but realizing I liked being independent as well. He also had the issue of me finding out he actually could understand me, but that wasn’t his priority currently.

He pulled a stool closer, then just watched me sleep, noticing my dark, bruised eyes, ruby red cheeks and lips, pale hands and fingers… which is when he also realized it wasn’t a good thing and checked my forehead, finding my fever had returned and I needed his help once again.

He lifted me off the hammock and brought me straight up to the bedroom, calling the doctor to come give me another IV, as I definitely needed extra help again. I don’t remember any of this, but I do remember waking up crying, my hand hurting from the multiple attempts the nurse had made before finding a good spot for the IV and him being right there, holding me still, while I got the medicine into my system and they changed my feet bandages. He did not like seeing me in distress and every tear I cried felt like a piece of his heart he was giving away, especially when I was delirious, and looked right up at him, begging him to stop the pain, which he understood crystal clear. He could only hold me tighter and whisper things that helped him feel better about getting me back to being healthy.

Three days later and I was finally feeling like myself again, my feet walkable (with bandages still) and my fever completely gone. I was so happy to be better that I smiled the entire morning, even though he ignored me (or so I thought). After breakfast, I asked what I was allowed to do, now trying to avoid being a nuisance, since he was clearly taking good care of me for some unknown reason. He cleared his throat and told me something about an art room that he wouldn’t mind me visiting, which made me clap and him hide his smile behind the newspaper. I slowly followed him from the room, careful not to slip on the wooden floors in his socks, and when I saw the art room, I was so excited I could only cover my mouth in awe.

Seeing my face light up made his heart skip a beat, but he ignored it, forcing himself to remain emotionless for the moment, telling me about all the things I could do. There was paint, coloring supplies, drawing supplies, and clay if I wanted it. I clapped my hands and spun around on the spot, causing him to chuckle, but he hid it from me behind his hand, pretending to yawn.

He disappeared then, leaving me to explore, which I happily did. I started with the painting first, choosing to make a landscape of the flowers I had seen before, then I moved onto the drawing table while that dried, doodling what I thought were random letters I had seen all over the house, but in fact were his initials, with mine, since I thought they looked good together.