I remember taking refuge in the sharp, distinct and sparkling glow on the edge of the knife. The sun reflecting. It was bright and white and it moved back and forth along the curve of the knife as the knife moved up and down a bit in the hand of Rem. It was hypnotising and I noticed my breathing connected with the movement of that glow, up and down, back and forth, in and out. Very superficially, but still breathing. In… and out again…
I tried to focus on Rem’s voice. He was saying something. I was sure of that. He was talking. He was most definitely talking. He was talking to me. And I was trying to hear what he was saying. What was he saying. Come on. Focus. Fuck it. Get a grip and focus. “Well, you bitch! What about it!” What about what? What the fuck was going on? Christ, what is that knife doing in my face?
All I could see now was the tip of the knife. Where did it move? Why was it here? What was happening? What was I doing here? Where was I? The trees, the grass, a tram rolled by. People walking by but nobody noticed.
Rem was yelling at me. Why? He hit me hard across my face. I fell to the ground. He kicked me a couple of times aiming for my ribs, and then he picked me up by my collar and pulled me up to my knees. There was that fucking knife again. What was going on? What was happening to me? Where did I go wrong?
Rem stepped to the side a bit. He walked to my back. He held the knife to my throat. I followed his movements with my eyes for as long as I could, scared to death. I thought he was going to kill me there and then and I had no clue as to why. But people out here, they do not always need a reason I understand. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. I could feel the tip of his knife going down from my ear to my throat again. Under my chin it stopped. Rem loved that knife. Every time he handled it, he gave me the chills. And now this. What the fuck was going on?
“Well, well.” My eyes opened even though I did not know they were closed. Even though I did not want them to open. I was too fucking scared to look, but I had to look. Who was this? David? It was David. Definitely. “David?” I heard. That was my voice. Was it? Did I just say something? “What is happening, David? What did I do wrong? Please?” The knife was gone from my throat now. I was just sitting there on my knees on the grass behind an old chestnut tree. Where was Rem? “David, please. What did I do?”
David approached. “Dear Anna. Sweet Anna.” he said. This distinct slow and educated voice of his. “You work for the police, don’t you, lassie.” I pissed myself. Christ, they thought I was a snitch. I was going to die, here, now. And it was going to be painful. I cried. I begged. “David, please, no. Not me.” “Tell me then,” Still a few feet away, David crouched down in front of me. “Why since we met, have I been raided for already six times. That is three times what is normal.” I did not know what to say. “I don’t know what is normal, David. I don’t know.” I responded. David remained silent for some time. I sobbed. “How did they know where the stash was at. Not once, but twice already, hey? Tell me that?” “Please, David. I don’t know. It is not me!” “How did they find the house? There is not many who know the address. So, Anna, how did they find the house?” I went silent. I had no answers. David got up again.
David walked closer even. He bowed towards me and he took my face in his hand. “Why do you not use any drugs, hey, Anna? Not even something innocent like Red Lebanon? It relaxes you. It gives great comfort. Bloody Hell, kids in school use it.” He went silent for a bit. “I know no one who does not do drugs every once in a while. Are you a copper?” “No!” I cried out. “I don’t know, David. If you need me to, to trust me, I will!” The look in his face changed. He let go of me. Then he hit me hard across my face. I fell to the ground again. “And why won’t you simply fuck for your money, like they all do?” As I lie there, I saw people walk right by us. Not fifty feet away from me. Nobody so much as stopped or looked. Why? I closed my eyes again.
Rem got me up to my knees again. So he was still here. Of course he was still here. What was going to happen?
David walked away from me. I was shivering. Then he walked right up to me again and got hold of my face with both his hands, real tight. “So, you are no copper you say.” I shook my head. “No squealer either?” I shook my head as vigorously as was room for in between his hands. He got hold of my collar and dragged me up close to the old chestnut tree, right into the shade so we were hidden from view. He pushed my back up to the tree. I begged again. I begged for my life. “No, David, please. I am not a snitch.” I would have done anything to convince him of that. “Good.” he said. “Good. Shhhh…. Make it so I can believe you, lassie. Hush now.” He gently stroked my head, my hair, cheeks. His thumbs he used to wipe my tears. Then he unzipped his trousers, got his dick out and stuck it into my face with force. He grabbed my hair and neck. I could not go anywhere. And I would do anything. I had to convince him I was no snitch. I had to. So I did. Convince him.