It took a while for my predicament to sink in. I had been flung here by an evil, deranged man, and expected to grow the same amount of obsession for him as he had for me. I was so confused and lonely. But I decided I couldn't cry anymore. Women were not objects that men could own- I knew this, I was passionate about this. Instead, I ceased my weeping and began to scream angry orders. How he needed to let me go, how I was a person too, how I would do something regrettable if I didn't get my way. Not that I could do anything in my current state. The silence that filled the room between my shouting seemed to fuel my anger. I was choking on the tears that threatened to well up, even though I refused to let them, and I could feel my face was hot and most probably blotchy.
I heard the door being unlocked, which was strange- I hadn't heard it be locked. Then my kidnapper entered, and as he neared I noticed he was holding a tray. I began to shout again. He sighed to himself, and perched on the bed smoothly, placing the tray on his lap. On the tray was a plate of strawberry jam toast and milk- the condensation on the glass told me it was cold... it was the exact meal my mother made when I was ill, and therefore confined to my bed as I was then. The tray also held two damp cloths of different colours and- and a small, old fashioned key? I gasped; was he going to give me my freedom?
He reached down and retrieved a blue cloth. He stroked my cheek again, sending that same unnerving chill through my body- then he gently dabbed my face with the cold, damp cloth. Although it soothed my burning skin, I just stared at him defiantly- hating him, loathing him, wanting him just to die. He seemed absorbed in what he was doing, with a thin, satisfied smile playing across his jaw- he was loving it. "You monster." Were the only words I could spit out through my blinding hatred. He tutted, but said nothing. He reached down and took the small key with one finger and thumb. He waving it in front of my face slowly and chuckled to himself- how could he be so happy?
"Oh, darling, you're so beautiful when you're angry. You know what this is? Now, my sweet, I'm going to unlock the chains on your hands. What would I do if you didn't eat? I made your favourite!" He sighed contentedly. To my horror he leaned forward over my encaptured body, and his lips lingered on my forehead. He swiftly placed the key into the lock on the shackles and with one strong turn, they fell from my wrists. I gasped at the twinge of pain as they opened and bit into my skin. I rubbed my wrists and slowly pushed myself into a sitting position- I realised irritably that my ankles were still chained to the foot of the bed.
Peering around, I took in the room; it was small, with white walls and a few mirrors dotted in strange places. Then, my eyes flickering around,my heart seemed to explode as I saw the wall that had been out of sight on my left. It was covered in photographs. Some had been enlarged to poster sizes, some were normal sized, some square, circular, or passport photos. The distressing thing was that they were all of one person. Me. Many when I was walking home. Some of me at school, some of me just sitting in my room, reading or on the laptop. So many of me sleeping. I screamed- this time, it was loud and piercing and filled the room for what seemed like hours.
"No no no no no! Don't be scared- c'mon, don't be scared, they're just- shhh, love, shhh!"
"You freak! I can't believe- I'm going to-" I clawed at him, swearing furiously; this man who sat so confidently only a foot away- I wanted to hurt him so, so much. Yet with ease he had his hands around my wrists and was yet again muttering these low, coaxing words. Then another revelation hit me- as my covers fell down to my waist, I noticed a flash of turquoise- I wore a lacy, low cut silk dress. My school uniform was gone, replaced by this expensive- looking, repulsive garment. "You changed me?" I screamed. He looked defeated and stood, forgetting the tray on his lap, which smashed on the floor. This seemed to be the last straw and he clasped my wrists together in one of his big hands and reached down with the other, to pick up a cream cloth. He clamped it to my mouth like he had that day- only for about half a minute. I was half conscious and I could feel my eyes keep rolling back into my head.
"Wh- what did you- wh- what's the t... time..."
"It's 2:30 in the afternoon, hun." He relayed. My giddy mind couldn't comprehend that I had been kidnapped almost 22 hours ago.
"Y- you... pictures... wh- why... off... offa m-me?"
"Because you're so beautiful, my sweet. I had to watch you to keep you safe. As for the dress, I thought it brought out your beautiful blue eyes. I bought it for you about a year ago- the first time I tried to bring you here. Do you remember? In the park, when I chased you?" My eyes widened as I reeled back to that scarring night. "Yes, sweetie, it was only me. I was trying to get you in my arms then, but you were stubborn. You threw a- what was it? A photo frame at me-you had bought it for your mum, hadn't you? It got me right on the head; knocked me out for a minute! You little fighter." He smiled. "You told your Mother that you thought you were going to be raped! I would never do that! Never! And I'd kill anyone who tried." His passion frightened me. I felt so woozy, my head tilted backwards as I struggled to stay sat up, but Marc was still holding my wrists, keeping my upright. "It's a shame you never came back to the park again, I know you used to love it. Anyway... you escaped me then, but now you're here- and the dress is still your size. It's perfect, my love. Like you."
He stroked my hair from my face and exhaled happily. Then he lowered me down gently by my wrists until I was lying down again, and my unconsciousness overtook me. "Sleep now, darling."
"We're going to be so happy together."
© Copyright 2016 buttercream. All rights reserved.