On Dangerous Borders

In just minutes, I was slumped over in the back seat, my few belongings beside me. “Keep your head down,” said the strange man at the wheel. I kept myself below the car’s windows, turning my head as far as it would go without straining my neck, trying to get a sense of my surroundings. All I saw were treetops and the occasional rooftop. The car finally slowed, turned, and then stopped. My heart thumped, anticipating what might come next. Was I really going to see Ahsad—or had I been taken to some abandoned building where I would be brutally raped and tortured by dozens of people? “Wait,” the man said curtly. I kept my head down, though curiosity burned to peek out the window. Moments later, he opened the door on my side and said, “Okay. Come.” I sat up and quickly surveyed my surroundings. We were in a typical residential area, tiny brick houses lining both sides of the street. The road was narrow and steep, so the rooftops didn’t line up evenly. “Hurry,” the man barked. I quickly gathered my bags and followed him through the parched, warm air. The small sandy yard had patchy grass, and the cement of the short driveway and walkway was badly cracked. It struck me that the houses were probably very old. The front door sprang open, and I was ushered inside by Ahsad. I sighed a huge sigh of relief as she shut the door behind me. The room felt dim after the blinding sunlight outside. In an excited tone, Ahsad said something to the man in Urdu, then spun to face me. “Welcome to your new home. Oh, how I’ve missed you!” I smiled, and we embraced tightly. “New home?” “I told you I would help get you out of there.” “Well, you sure kept your word on that one. But—” “Esita,” Ahsad said, extending her hand toward me. I took it. “Esita?” She nodded. “That’s my first name.” “Oh!” I realized I’d been so used to thinking of her by her last name that I hadn’t considered her first. “Esita is a very pretty name.” “So…” Esita rubbed her hands together enthusiastically, then turned to the man who had delivered me. She said something in Urdu, and he left. When Esita closed the door behind him and turned back to me, her entire expression had changed. The transformation was chilling. I had never seen anything like it. Before I could question why she looked so serious, so hostile, she said, “Now you belong to me.” I began to mumble, completely at a loss for words except to express the helplessness I felt. I knew, deep in my heart, that I would never see my home again. “You will do as I say,” Esita continued. “When I tell you something, you will do it without question.” I stammered, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. “What in the world is going on? Did I do something wrong? What just happened?” “What just happened is what I just told you,” said Esita. “I command. You obey.” “Since when?” I asked, trying to sound firmer and less afraid. “I don’t understand—” “What do you not understand about the words ‘shut up, listen, and do as you’re told’!?” My jaw dropped, and I simply stared at her, trying to wrap my mind around the desperate situation. It was clear Esita had only helped to rescue me for her own gain. I didn’t know what she wanted—some kind of slave to clean her house? To serve her in bed? Something worse? “I-I'm just trying to figure out what’s going on, but of course I understand those words. I’m just shocked at your sudden coldness and these strict demands. You were always so nice to me before. I thought we were close. I thought you had feelings for me. Wasn’t that why you rescued me?” Esita took a menacing step toward me. “You wanted to know the mystery of your abduction. I will tell you what happened and why. Then you must do as I say and nothing less. I don’t even need to explain this much to you. Learning what happened will not change things. This is your new life.” “What are you talking about?” I asked desperately. “You have wondered how you suddenly awoke in another country.” That was very true. I listened intently. “I was behind it.” “What!” I exclaimed incredulously. “Shut up! Do you want to hear the story or not?” I nodded slowly. “I was in India on an assignment investigating someone. I had a couple of people helping me. I saw you and decided I had to have you. You know how it is in much of the Middle East—we pick what we want and take it. But my country isn’t like yours. I couldn’t just walk up, introduce myself, and ask you to come to my country. Your kind, as you know, isn’t tolerated here despite any personal preference for light hair and eyes. So we had to be sneaky.” A chill of dread crept through me. “So you just fucking kidnapped me?!” Esita’s hand shot out from under her shawl, slapping me across the face. The sting burned, though I was not ready to show just how terrified I was. “You wanted to know!” she shouted. “And I am telling you. That is all you will get from me. I am the only one giving commands after this. My connection snuck up on you. He knocked you out with chloroform, then got you across the border. We would have brought you straight to my home, but the police were nearby. If it weren’t for that timing, you’d never have ended up in jail. If I hadn’t worked in the jail, you probably would have spent the rest of your life there.” I stood dumbfounded. This was straight out of a movie—or a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. “I know better,” I said, resigned. “What do you want from me?” “I want you to simply do as I say. That is what I want from you.” “And just what will you tell me to do?” “To take a shower.” I blinked. A shower? “I am first going to tell you to shut up. Then I’m telling you to shower. I want that hair and body scrubbed with the soap and shampoo in the shower. After that, you’ll get dressed in the clothes I provided.” “And what if I refuse?” Esita stepped across the small living room and snatched something off a table I hadn’t noticed before: a long, black leather whip with hard knots tied into it. “This is what happens if you refuse.”