Showing them how tough I can be doesn’t gain me anything, it just keep’s their guard up. I have to play the part of the humble little geisha. I let them see my fear, but I hide my rage. Sophie said that when you play a role long enough you become the role. I can’t let that happen. If I can trick them into thinking that I have been broken, they might lower their guard for a minute. My mask can’t slip until I am ready to tear it off. After that, there won’t be any second chances.
So I only speak when I am spoken to, and I respond slowly, as though forming the words requires great efforts of concentration. My dazed expression becomes habitual. I follow when they take my leash and lead me about the house. If my chains allow it, and permission has been given, I stumble stupidly along. Other ti
