Haunted

She stared into the eyes of her keeper. He stared back at her as if this was some kind of challenge. So many feelings were coursing through her body: love, hate, fear, fury, anxiety, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly which feeling was dominating her senses. All she knew was that she didn’t want him near her. She had to get away from him, but she didn’t know how. She lunged at him, but stopped short when she saw his hand shoot out in front of her. It connected with her cheek with a loud smack. Hate, she reasoned, was definitely what she felt more than anything. She wanted to kill him in that moment. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

Because he was all she had.

She dropped to the floor and sat against the wall. That realization scared her. He was the only thing she knew. Did she love him then?

A soft clink of metal on the wooden floor echoed around her. He’d left her some food. She waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps on the filthy carpet to grab the tray quickly, retreating to her corner. As usual, there was very little on it. She touched each item, barely making out the contents in the dim light: a piece of hard bread and a small cup of water. Just like always; enough to keep her alive but never enough for her to regain her strength.

The bile rose in her mouth. No, she couldn’t love him. She threw the tray and its contents at the wall and screamed. How long had she been in this place? She’d lost count of the weeks that passed. She slid down the wall and put her head in her hands. She remembered the way the sunshine warmed her back as she made her way to the park. It only took a minute for her life to change drastically.

She never noticed that blue van parked on the opposite side of the street, or the driver. Never once realized it followed her home on more than one occasion. She never saw it coming.

Well, two could play that game.

****

He heard her scream, heard the tray clatter to the floor. It was one of the reasons he’d invested in plastic cups. He didn’t have the time or the patience to clean up shards of glass, not to mention the fact that he didn’t trust her, especially when she vowed to kill him. His angel was amusing, but quite a handful.

He walked out the sliding door onto the balcony and smiled to himself as the sun began to set. It was a gorgeous sunset, he thought, as the last rays of sun shining down on him. As he pulled out a cigarette to light it, he wondered if she missed the small things like this; the sunsets and sunrises, the sounds of the birds singing, the blue skies.

After watching her for over three months, the temptation was too much to bear. He knew her all too well; she walked to the park every everyday to sit on the swings and listen to the wind whisper to her. He liked to imagine the kinds of things it would tell her. Did it ever whisper words of warning? Did it ever tell her to avoid him? It must not have told her anything, because after a few hours she was ready to head home, not bothering to look around. The rest was easy. He’d already been prepared, ready to yank her in to the van and place the washcloth with alcohol over her face and nose. It had taken all of three minutes. Ingenious.

There was just something about her that commanded his attention; something that tied him to her. Sadly, she didn’t quite feel the same. He still hoped that she’d come to her senses and realize that she belonged with him.

They rarely spoke to each other. He suspected that it was because she resented his existence. But he didn’t mind so much. He still had her, unwillingly on her part, but he still had her. He had the privilege of watching her sleep, taking care of her, looking at her, as if she was truly his. But he couldn’t touch her, and because of this he kept his angel locked up and weak. He snubbed out the cigarette on the wooden rail. As long as she was weak, she was his.

****

She faced the wall opposite the door watching the water trail down onto the floor. Her stomach growled repeatedly, reminding her that she was only a traitor to herself. She heard footsteps coming back, his boots clomping up the stairs in time with her pulse. Her eyes narrowed. What did he want now?

“You need to eat.” His soft voice echoed through the room. He never yelled, never raised his voice. It was one of the most disturbing things about him. How could someone so sick and twisted have such a soothing voice?

“Why? So that I can live yet another day in this godforsaken place?” She still faced the wall, her back to him. Her mind was racing, an idea forming in her head.

“Well, that’s the idea.” She didn’t have to see him to know he had a smug look on his face. She needed to get him to trust her, believably. She cursed herself for never allowing him near her. It would’ve been so much easier to convince him that she wanted him the same way he wanted her that way.

A thought came to her mind. This could really work. “Do you really love me?”

She cringed unintentionally when he placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. She had to fight him. She had to get out of this place.

“Of course I do.” He sat in front of her, caressing her face with his hands. The skin felt rough against hers, but she suppressed the urge she had to hit him, knowing she’d get her chance soon. She closed her eyes, pretending to enjoy the comfort of skin to skin contact.

She begrudgingly pulled herself into his arms and buried her face in his neck. Her mind was racing a mile a minute as she considered the many ways she could possibly take him down. But she was sidetracked by a thought she hadn’t expected: She would miss the way he smelled constantly of soap and cigarettes.

The thought was so normal but so unexpected that she couldn’t help but laugh.

“What are you thinking?” He asked softly, breaking her concentration.

“Nothing.” She lied. She was never a good liar, but she prayed that today she would be the best liar in the world.

“That’s doubtful.” He shifted his weight to the opposite side.

I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to kill you, she thought. Instead she took a deep breath and tried to make her next sentence sound sincere.

“I love you too.” She said. “I’m ready to be yours and only yours.” Brilliant. If he believed her, and she had a feeling he would, he’d be caught off guard

He stiffened for a moment. Is she serious? This was what he had wanted, right?

“What?” he asked blindsided.

“I want to be with you.” She stated. It was easier this time, to pretend. She saw the faint shimmer of a smile.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” She had him, and he didn’t even see it coming, just like she hadn’t. He moved to hug her and she took a chance. She elbowed him in the stomach and kicked him as hard as she could manage sitting down. He fell back with a grunt as she jumped up and sprinted out of the room.

She almost tripped down the stairs as she ran. Malnutrition was taking its toll on her body, but she pushed herself even more. She didn’t know how much longer she had before he got up. She reached the bottom of the staircase and turned to the right. She found herself in a cozy looking living room. It looked so… ordinary. She spared a second to laugh at the irony. She was suffering while he had all the commodities of a home.

What a sadistic freak.

She heard his boots clomping down the stairs. She snapped out of her thoughts and ran across to hide in the next room. She found herself in the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers.

“Angel, you made a huge mistake.” He walked slowly, looking for her. She found a knife and shut the drawer quietly. She held it close to her and hid behind the island in the middle of the kitchen. She tried to steady her breathing; he could probably hear her heart hammering against her ribcage.

“Last warning, honey, come out now or else you’re not going to like what happens when I find you.” He opened the drawer next to the TV and took out the small gun he’d kept there. “I’m going to count to three.”

She swallowed hard and tried to figure out what she was doing. He had the high ground here. He knew this house like the back of his hand. She, on the other hand, had no clue where the door was.

“One…”

He stepped into kitchen. She peeked out the side and saw his boots. She sat back. Oh god, what was she going to do?

“Two…”

She hadn’t thought this far ahead. She could feel the cold sweat drip down her back. It was now or never.

“Three… Why, hello there angel.” She froze as he appeared in front of her.

She screamed. He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her up, pinning her up against the wall. A hand snaked around her throat at the same time a gun was held against her head.

“You think you can just leave me?” This was the first and only time she’d ever heard him yell and that was scaring her more than the thought of the cool metal against her temple. “You can never leave me, never.” He growled.

“Let me go!” She yelled back, her hands curling around his wrist trying to pry his hand away from her neck. She hadn’t felt this scared since the day she’d been kidnapped. “I hate you.”

He cocked the gun and put his lips to her ear. “A bullet is your only way out.”

She closed her eyes and for the first time in a very long time, she prayed. Then she took a deep breath, braced herself, and kicked out at the same time she hit the gun away.

The gun fell to the floor as he stumbled. She threw herself in the direction the gun had fallen, grabbed it and pointed.

“I hate you.” She said through tears. “I hate you for taking my life away from me. I don’t belong to you. I do not belong to anyone but myself.” The metal in her hands made her feel safer, in control.

“Oh but you do belong to me, princess. You will never forget me. Not in a million years, not even if you find someone new, you will not forget me.” He smiled, still on the floor. “I’ll be with you until you take your last breath. I promise you that much.”

“I have promises of my own to keep.” She raised the gun.

He smiled. “You think revenge will satisfy you?”

She smiled back serenely. She looked every bit like an angel as she took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

“It couldn’t hurt.”