He awoke the next morning, his body ached.  He was somewhere completely dark.  He struggled to sit up but discovered something over his neck.  He pushed against it briefly before attempting to remove it with his hands.  Unhappily he felt similar resistance on his wrists.  He tried moving his legs, to have his ankles hit material.  His arms and legs were splayed outwards.  His back was on a hard-wooden floor.

        He thrashed for a few moments against his bonds, they gave way little before their coarseness began to hurt.  He was tied down by ropes, not so tight to constrict him, but so secure as to remove the possibility of escape.  He tried pulling free once more before falling back in defeat.

        It must have been the dead of night; his eyes not adjusting to the lack of light.  Or perhaps they had but were only able to see more dark pass the initial darkness.  His body was wrapped in some sort of wet, herb smelling fabric.  He laid for 20 minutes contemplating whether calling for help was truly the wisest decision he could make.  Boredom and the terror of being left to die in this manner eventually tipped the scales.

        “Is there anyone there!?”

        Silence greeted him.

        “Hello, please, is anyone out there!?” He shouted.

        He continued until he realized that no one could hear him.  He grimaced, he wasn’t even sure how big, small, he was now.  Perhaps he was full size, or more likely far smaller, his voice commensurate to that.  He contemplated egress, made elaborate plans of how once the bonds were taken off and he was presented with the right conditions he wouldn’t fail.  Numerous scenarios played his in head, him sweet talking his mother, playing supine only to fool her so well that it was hours before she knew he was gone. 

        He played these scenarios repeatedly in the silent void, there was ample time and no other stimulus.  Unfortunately, his wondering mind went back over his memories of the day before.  The shame of what he had been subjected to, from both his mother and Jelani.  He fought back tears and vainly thrashed about hoping the pain would outweigh the memories.  It didn’t.

        After what must have been hours, he fell asleep again, only to wake up some indefinite time later.  He wasn’t afraid of being alone, but being powerless, and now hungry, in a world with nothing but your own thoughts was terrifying.  His restraints provided an ever-maddening provocation, freedom, or at least existence might be found, if only they could be removed.  His eyes glazed over when he found he could not escape, sleep, nor push his memories from the forefront of his thoughts.

        It was instantaneous, where there had been utter darkness, was only illumination.  He screamed, his eyes burned.  His face turned as far to the right as the ropes and wood permitted.  His eyes were tightly shut as he felt the ropes being removed.  Only once he was lifted was he able to open his eyes a little.  He saw his prison, a little drawer near the bed, distancing further and further away.

        The hand stopped and he turned to face his mother.  But the features were different, smoother, finer.  Time had not yet had the opportunity to etch its design upon the creature before him. 

        “Lerata…” He said in veneration.

        Her face was larger, but as to where this accentuated his mother’s flaws and imperfections, there were few to none on this specimen.  His awe overcame him as he stared, he looked down at her small breast, thinking of the times he had easily cupped them.  His groin hurt, greatly.  He yelped, reaching down to the affected area with bandaged hands.  He looked down, the bandages he had felt covered all but his head and were now acting as a chastity belt to his member.  His penis felt like it would burst, trying to expand without the space required.

        Lerata smiled, understandingly.  She closed her hand on Adnah, and then used a small knife to remove his bandages.  Her grip was steel like, preventing any movements.  Once she was done, he let out a sigh of relief.  She placed him on the bed and knelt so that her face was just over the bed.

        Adnah looked at her again, awoken to reality by the pain.

        “Why?” He stammered, tears in his eyes.

        Lerata averted her eyes, “My brother already told you.”

        “You tell me!” He shouted.

        She sighed, looking him in the eyes with pity, “My family was starving, we had no prospects of a better future…”

        “You had me!” He interrupted.

        She hesitated.  Her look of pity changed to one of indifference.

        “I do, did, love you.  Together we might have made a better life, left alone…  But several days ago, our debts were purchased, by one person.”

        “My mother.”

        She nodded, “At that time my family did not know it was Sauda, but the only two who would have done such a thing were either her or Nia.  Both would have trod us underfoot to get at you.  We were in a bad situation that would only have gotten far worse, so I changed it for the better.”

        “By sacrificing me…”

        Her apathy changed to indignation, “Do not blame me for this.  I was willing to be your companion, even if you had taken the rite with someone else.  I and my brother both hinted to you the desperation we faced.  You smiled and proudly exclaimed hard work would see us through.  We have worked our land all our lives, yet you and your hubris would succeed where we did not?”

        She was right, he knew she was.  The tears stopped as he looked at her with his own indignation.  Justly or not, she had betrayed him, she did not really love him.  His eyes darkened upon further introspection and though he understood what was to come, he wanted to hear her say it.

        “What now?”

        She sighed, lifting a female loincloth up.  It consisted of one large triangle connected to linen straps serving as a belt.  She laid it down in front of him, the base of the triangle facing him.  It was dark red, mommy’s, he shook his head.  Mother’s, favorite color. 

        “A gift for me?  New clothing, a hammock perhaps?” He joked.

        “No,” she said smiling weakly, “A new home.”

        He blinked, “Huh?”

        She grabbed him and gently laid him on his back.  He attempted once to raise himself, but she made a gesture as if to flick his head with her middle finger and he fell back, very still.  She eyed him sternly to ensure his compliance, then grabbed a needle and spool and quickly set to work.  Red threads, identical to the garment, bound his arms, legs, and body.  The work was skillful, and he found his conditions similar to his earlier prison, neither strangling nor wanting in secure anchoring.

        “There!  All done!” She said proudly.

        Adnah stared at her intensely.

        “Despite what you may think, I harbor you no ill will.  This is just what it takes to survive in this world.”

        He was silent as she lifted his prison by the straps and walked out of the bedroom.  She walked, swinging the loincloth softly.