Free Hold Me Never (Holding Never) by Natalie Kristen

missing an eye, an ear, teeth, fingers, half their faces.
Badly healed wounds and scars track down their limbs. Many have
their backs to me, their faces bowed and turned away from me. They
don't want me to see them.
    With dread, I turn my eyes and attention to the naked
women on the platforms. They remain like statues, not flinching even
when hot wax is applied to the most sensitive parts of their bodies.
A few of them flick curious glances in my direction. When Mam
Mallisa turns to glare at them, they all look down in a hurry. All
of them are young, in their twenties or early thirties at most. A
handful of them turn their heads as I pass. There is anxiety, anger,
resignation, concern and fear in their eyes.
    Out of nowhere, Mam Mallisa appears at my side like a
phantom, startling me. “The Midnight Feast is tonight. One of
the Matrons will help you get ready,” she informs me, gesturing
at the gray uniforms. “You will be transformed into a Siren.
Like them.”
    A Siren. Like those Sirens undulating in the water
under the Emperor's feet in the painting.
    “ Gwin!” Mam Mallisa raises her voice.
    “ Yes, Mam.” A Matron with curly red hair
limps to her side. When she gathers the skirt of her gray uniform in
a curtsey, I see that the last finger is missing on each hand. She
looks to be in her late twenties. Despite the jagged scar blazing
down her left cheek, she is beautiful. Her blue eyes are brilliant,
the color of a cloudless sky. Something I realize I may never see
again.
    “ Get Zoey ready for the Midnight Feast. There is
a lot of work to be done on her. You know what to do,” Mam
Mallisa sniffs.
    “ Yes Mam.”
    Mam Mallisa squints at me. “Gwin will take care
of you. Go with her. Shoo!”
    She shoos me off like a mangy stray and strides off,
muttering under her breath.
    “ Eh, Zoey?” Gwin tilts her head at me. “If
you'll come with me.”
    “ Oh. Okay.”
    I follow Gwin as she leads me behind a curtain. “You'll
need to be bathed and waxed,” she tells me in a gentle, lilting
voice. “Brace yourself. It...might hurt a bit, since you're
not used to it. And it's going to take a while. Quite a long
while.”
    “ That's okay. I'm well acquainted with pain.”
I shrug and try to smile. It was meant as a joke. But Gwin looks
down with a stricken expression.
    I bite my lip. Bad joke.
    Why in the world did I say that? That was stupid and
insensitive. Gwin has been mutilated and scarred. She has obviously
endured much more pain than me. That is not something I should joke
about. All these women have suffered much. Their eyes hide it, but
their faces and bodies show it. I give myself a big mental kick in
the ass and resolve to just keep my mouth shut.
    When Gwin asks me to remove my clothes and step under a
shower, I obey quickly. I resolve not to make anything difficult for
her, just do as she says. Gwin is not going to hurt me. She is just
tasked to groom me into a Siren. I might not like what is being done
to me, but she is not the enemy. If I make any sound or cause any
delay, I have no doubt that she will be punished severely. She has
suffered enough. Her limp, her maimed hands, the scar on her face—I
am afraid to ask who did that to her. Was it Mam Mallisa? Or...
    The shower comes on. The water is warm and I relax a
little. When Gwin starts to soap me, I protest. “No, no, I'll
wash myself,” I say, squirming.
    “ Please, Zoey. Let me. It's my job.”
    “ Oh. Oh, of course.” I blow out a sigh.
“I'm sorry, I just...” I swallow hard and square my
shoulders. “Go ahead. Please. Do what you must. I...I'm
just not used to anyone washing me, that's all. No one has ever
bathed me. Only my mother...” I trail off, unable to mask
the tremor in my voice.
    “ I understand.” Gwin meets my eyes. “And
I'm sorry.” She bows her head before I can respond. She
washes me with care. Her hands are gentle, loving, and I close my
eyes, trying to remember my mother's soothing touch. I was little
then.