But Helen knew where the money was. Roger kept them all with many of the jewelery he had given her as a gift , and
his collections of guns in a safe behind the mirror of her dressing room. No one could see that there was a safe. The mirrors were installed in a way that no one could had guesses that they could open one of them like a door and behind that door, it was a safe! She had seen it one early morning accidentally. If she could only get her hand on her money, or what she had earned by selling her body and dancing, she would run again. She assumed that he had the money of the other dancers there, too, so they would not leave him.
There were ear and eyes everywhere in the house; The beautiful house they lived in from the rod iron fence and gate, tennis court, Olympic size pool, jacuzzi, spa, seven bedrooms and baths, three living rooms and dining rooms, and the three German Shepherd dogs. Her dressing room alone was about the size of a small apartment. Helen did not care for any of these. She hated the house. She hated Joyce, who spied on her and would come at five every afternoon to fix her up! She were not allowed to pick up what she wanted to wear, what kind of jewelry she wanted to use, how she wanted her hair done, up or down; no, those were all Joyce's decision. She told Mark, her only friend, one day when they were in the car and going for shopping:
"I feel I am like a slave. I can't even choose what to wear!"
Mark put his index finger on his lips. They were in the car. Helen knew what that gesture meant, "Hush". They were in the car. Later when they were eating sandwiches in a local mall, Mark told her:
"You must be very careful. There is camera and microphone everywhere even in all the cars. You don't even have privacy in the bathroom!"
Helen knew about cameras; but she never thought even in the bathrooms she did not have any privacy. That afternoon at home, in the bathroom, she searched for the camera. There was nothing she could find. It was hidden so well that no one could guess. But her eyes suddenly fixed on a painting that was hanging there right in front of the toilet. It was an original cubist painting of a woman with an eyes which was on her cheek. she kept string at the eyes. Then got close to it, and looked into the eyes of the painting. Deep inside the red eye of the painting, she saw the camera. Back in her room, she cut a piece of cardboard paper, colored it red. The piece she had cut was very small, almost unnoticeable. She glued that piece to the eye of the painting. No body either noticed or they never said anything to her about it. But at least now she could go to bathroom to get rid of her bodily fluid without somebody watching her!
She yearned a normal life. She used to be a good and smart student. Her dream was that one day she could go back to school, to get her diploma, to get her college degree, to become a teacher, to marry a nice man, whom she truly loved, to have her own family; but none was possible at the current situation.
One day early in the morning she woke up. She had heard something. First she thought it was a dream, but she noticed that Roger was not in bed. She had the urge to go to the bathroom; but she heard a very low noise, almost unnoticable, from her dressing room. She got up from the bed and walked barefoot towards the dressing room. The door was wide open. There was a dim light that kept moving up and down coming from there; so she assumed it was a light of flash light. She peeped in. The first mirror, the closest to the bedroom was open like a door. She thought: "So this is the time he opens the safe!" His back was to her. She stood in the middle of the open door between bedroom and her dressing room. Her heart heaved, her knees shook, her breath was laboured, and her mouth was dry. If she could be caught, Roger perhaps would kill her. He had bragged about killing people that did not cooperate with him in front of her before. But he was so careless this morning. He was opening the safe. Helen looked in the dim light. She tried to remember! What was the code? She wished she had a pen to and paper to write it down; but she did not have to...
To Be Continued
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