Just Want Out

He turned around, to leave the room probably and raised his eyebrows at me. I realized I was staring at him and started blushing looking down at me feet. He chuckled lightly and shook his head before walking to the door.

"No wait!" I said, stopping him from leave. He turned around looking at me, waiting for me to go on. "I uh. Can I have clothes? Like. Legit clothes. Please?" I asked, pulling on the hem of the shirt I had on. I watched his facial expression carefully.

"Well. We don't got much for here here. It's all back in Sheffield." My eyes widened at that, but he didn't seemed phased by his own statement.

"What?" I said loudly, crossing my arms over my chest. "You are not taking me to Sheffield. No way in hell!" I looked at him as if he were crazy, and when he started to smile I really was starting to believe he was.

"Oh yeah? What are you gon' do about it?" He said, smug expression on.

I bit my lip at that, because he was right. There was honestly nothing I could do about him bringing me wherever he wanted to. I couldn't fight him off because there were four others. Besides, I couldn't even fight. He smirked knowing that he had won.

"You can't keep me forever you know." I said, eyeing him. He scoffed.

"That's what you think." He said raising his eyebrow, and pressing his lips together in a matter of factly way.

"What do you even want from me? Seriously you're Oliver fucking Sykes. Do you know how many girls would die to even get a second with you?" I knew I should have shut up but I couldn't stop once I started. "A lot that's how many. And you decide to fucking kidnap one? Are you insane? Mental maybe? You can't just go around snatching people. I don't care how hard core you are or not. What are you too insecure that nobody will really love you so you make a girl be with you against her will?"

Rage took over his features at my words while pushing me against the wall, harshly at that. "Shut the fuck up." He growled lowly, his arm pressed against my chest horizontally. "You don't fucking know shit."

I rolled my eyes at him pushing against his chest to get him away from me. "Fuck off get off of me." I said annoyed and angry. Seriously what was wrong with this man?

He only pressed his arm against me harder keeping me in place. "No. Listen to me, and listen good. You need to lose the attitude you little prissy bitch before we make you lose it. You've got a lot to learn and if you don't behave it'll only be worse for you."

By now, the rush I had in me had faded and I was soon being consumed with fear again. I nodded my head and he finally released the pressure of his arm. He walked out of the room with a slam of the door leaving me alone. I felt pure hatred for the man already, the man whose music has saved my life just weeks and months prior to right now. The man who I basically worshiped and loved with everything in me. No now I fucking couldn't stand him. He was crazy, fucking insane.

I started pacing the room, knowing that leaving wasn't really an option now. I had to distract myself before I cracked and went just as mad as Oli was. I needed something, anything. I looked towards the bathroom and something in my mind clicked. I rushed inside, almost tearing apart the room looking for some type of sharp object. I found a razor that was used for shaving, but after taking it apart I had four blades in my hand. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before dragging one across my inner thigh. I bit my lip from the pain, but in some weird masochist way it felt good. I hadn't self-harmed since the beginning of summer and in some odd way it felt nice to do it after so long. A blank canvas can be so triggering sometimes. Not satisfied with the small cut, I added more applying more pressure until I felt at ease again. I sighed, grabbing a wad of toilet paper to clean up the blood before standing all four blades in hand. I wasn't sure where I was going to hide them, so I just stuffed them in the draw that I found the actual razor in. I tried my best to tidy up the bathroom before walking back into his room.

I huffed, sitting on the bed. Was he being serious about taking me to the U.K.? How would they even pull it off, I'm sure by now people were looking for me, and if someone saw my face in public they'd recognize me right? My stomach started to churn at the mere thought of nobody looking for me. It's not like I had family around here anyway. I bit my lip as the tears threatened to spill. Reality was nobody probably even realized I went missing yet. And nobody was going to anytime soon.

I was crying before I knew it, sniffling and wiping away the tears. It felt as if everything was hitting me. This wasn't some dream or nightmare. I got kidnapped, and was now taken as hostage. I had to do what they said or god knows what would happen to me. I couldn’t do a damn thing about this situation and it was killing me.