Taken by fate

Chapter 10

The MP3 player was half dead.
Lowering the volume until the music was just a hum. Laying down in bed facing the ceiling.
Did mom ever finish that last piece she was working on? All those paint balloons turning the canvas into a splattered rainbow. Though that was only the base layer, more detailed outlines were next.
Or did she stop, leaving the canvas unfinished. Would they extend her deadline because of the situation? This was one of her biggest commissioned pieces yet and she was so excited, working day and night.
Would that piece ever get finished now?
What about dad? Was he still working? Or had he taken time off to stay at home.
He loved his job, one of the main reasons he's never complained. Mom would always worry that he was going to snap one day not knowing how anyone could stay cooped up at a desk all the time.
The way he was going he was bound to get a promotion, one that he definitely deserved. Would my disappearance change that?
Who was holding the other up? Was mom holding her emotions together as dad broke down or was dad being brave for mom? Were they both a wreck falling on each other not being able to do much of anything besides let the police do their jobs.
Police.
Rolling my eyes.
They weren't doing a very good job. If they had been then I would already be home. Had they thrown the case away declaring me as a lost cause, was the lack of finding my body enough to keep the case open?
If so, were any of the officers or detectives actually interested in finding a girl that's been gone this long?
Who knows, maybe someone found a fresh lead, something that would point them in the right direction.
You went out into the world, people knew you, your face and possibly where you lived. That had to mean something, a smaller piece to the giant jigsaw puzzle that was my life at the moment.
What about my friends at school? How different were their lives?
Most of them I only hung out with during class or lunch. The only one I really spent most of my time with was Amara.
Did they already move on ignoring my empty seat? Was I still the hot gossip filling the halls, the girl who went missing? What stories had gone with that, knowing the way people liked to talk.
Maybe I was gone because of a drug problem, or I had run away, or best one yet, rolling my eyes as I thought it, I was pregnant.
That's always how the gossip went; only a few people who actually knew the truth while everyone else gets their five minutes of fame from having some spin off of what happened to me.
How was Amara handling my disappearance? We have been nearly inseparable since kindergarten when she had shown up halfway through the school year after the merry go round incident. Some boy had pushed me off the swings and Amara had come over and tackled him to the ground. Chuckling at the memory.
Was she still standing up for me talking the gossip down, watching my empty seat in class trying to figure out where I was, wishing that I was there? Did my best friend find someone else to talk to and confide in while I was gone? Was she still texting me hilarious videos whenever she came by one only to realize that I would never get them?
Amara was the one person that I did everything with, shopping, schoolwork, football games, going to each other's houses, we were like sisters.
Now when I needed to talk to Amara the most, I couldn't.
Couldn''t ask her why I was so confused by you, why I let you touch me, why I even had feelings for you at all. If she were here right now what would she say?
'Damn that man is finer than a piece of paper but you better get your shit together girl. He stole you, don't let him mess with your head. You're better than that.'
That sounded like her. Amara was someone who always told you how it was no matter what, even if you didn't want to hear the words said.
At least the girl didn't lie, but my best friend never made me feel less when I was around her either.
Then there were my teachers.
How many of them knew about what happened? All of them, did they actually care, were they worried about me? Was I just an absent student to them? Calling out a name that wasn't going to answer back. After all the work I put into my classes one of them was bound to care, right?
There were other students, multiple classes they taught and I was just one person. Their lives would keep on going the same way even when mine had changed drastically. Cringing at the thought of my backpack being tossed somewhere, probably in a dumpster, all those assignments lost.
This had to be the longest I hadn't thought about school, about college, or what I was going to do after. Now all I was focused on was getting my life back. I can figure the rest out after.
Resting my head against the side of the mattress still sitting back on the floor. My butt numb but I was too stubborn to move.
Not wanting to think anymore, cranking up the music right in the middle of some old fashioned rock song. Closing my eyes enjoying the nothingness.
Falling down, down.
With a start I opened my eyes. Apparently I had passed out on the floor, gravity doing the work as my body was no longer supported.
Listening to the silence knowing without looking that the player was drained.
"Well that didn't last long."
Yawning, I stood still half asleep. Getting cozy in bed fluffing out the pillow before I passed out again.
This time I dreamed about a dragon big and yellow, not really sure whether the giant scaled lizard was there to protect or kill me, either way I wasn't scared.
One of its claws alone was the size of my entire body.
Then out of nowhere a white horse comes riding by. A person in full body armor astride, charging the dragon with only a sword in hand, racing past me. Keeping watch as the fight began but the dragon was too slow and the sword sliced many times.
To the dragon they had only been a minor inconvenience, paper cuts to his humongous size. Only working to infuriate the dragon as the beast lashed out, catching the back of the knight, claws ripping right through the armor tearing the metal away. Long bloody strikes across the knights now bare back, skin hanging loosely but that hadn't stopped him.
He advanced, avoiding the claws easily this time. Moving around them as if he already knew the beast's next move.
The scaly mouth opened wide, glowing red from the fire the dragon was about to breathe out to burn the knight alive.
Sword striking down hard, breaking off in the foot that was four times the knight's size causing the dragon to bend down and take a closer look.
Only that's what the knight had wanted, ramming the rest of his sword through the bottom of the beast's mouth causing the scaly lizard to cry out in agony as the dragon stumbled from side to side causing the ground to shake under my feet.
Suddenly the knight was by my side, covering me, pulling me astride the white horse as we galloped away from the huge yellow scaled dragon who's cries were only getting worse by the second.
I found myself not wanting to leave, wanting to turn back around and find some way to ease the beast's pain. After all, I hadn't been in any real danger.
Moving further away, the dragon looked so small in the distance that the knight had put between them.
Soon the horse halted to a stop and the knight expertly got off reaching up to help me down, keeping me steady as I found my balance.
Pulling off his helmet revealing a handsome face, crooked smile, dark brown eyes with long luscious hair.
"You're mine now. I saved you from the beast, now you will be my princess."
Of course he was a prince, that explained everything.
He pulled me in close and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he picked me up and spun me around.
"I'll take care of you."
I believed him. He had just bested a dragon, showing his strength, of course he could protect me.
Yet deep down in my gut I found myself wanting to run, to head back towards the larger yellow beast. To find a way to ease its pain.
"What do you want? I'll give you anything now that you're mine."
Looking back at him, I knew what I wanted.
Leaning closer ,closer, closer......
Eyes wide, jumping up, fingers grazing across my lips.
"What were you dreaming about?"
"Being rescued." Not even fazed by the fact that you were down here watching me. Besides that technically wasn't a lie.
"It's creepy, you watching me sleep."
"It's the only time you're still enough."
Turning my head over my shoulder, noticing the book in your lap, the pencil in your hand.
Were you drawing me again?
Leaning closer to take a better look, something was different.
Freezing in place.
Not believing it to be true.
No noise as I moved, none of the constant rustling that I have become so used to. Deep breath as I slowly lifted my hand up waiting to feel the collar, knowing that the metal was still wrapped around my throat because I could feel the weight bearing down, only to touch bare skin.
Unable to believe that the collar was off as I circled my entire neck with both hands to find nothing.
Huge smile planted on my face, feeling my cheeks rise. It was off, the infuriating contraption was actually off. Following the chain, finding the open collar on the floor next to you still not able to comprehend that it was finally gone.
"Yup, it's off. As long as I'm down here with you, it can stay off."
Laughter escaped my system as I stretched my neck further than I had been able to in a while. Sore after having to deal with the metal digging into my neck when I slept and having all the extra weight. Circling my shoulders, enjoying the new found range of motion.
"Let me."
My body stiffened as you moved behind me, moving my hair out of the way but as soon as you pressed your thumbs into the crooks of my neck I was filled with instant relief, melting under your touch.
All the air left in my system coming out in one long exhale.
You chuckled at that as you continued working throughout my shoulders and I took the chance to check over the collar.
The side where the chain connects had a hinge like a door. The u shaped piece holding the chain link on was thick, too thick to bend as I had already figured out. On the other side there was a pin sticking out the top of one half. A rectangle cut in the middle while the other side had two square pieces to fit around that piece.
One pin holding the collar together. That was it. If I just had something small enough to fit into the opening I could be free.
Fingers kneading between my shoulder blades.
"The speaker and MP3 player are upstairs charging. I'll bring them back down when they're done."
Stretching my shoulders, pressing my chin to my chest, the entire top part of my spine popping releasing the tension.
"Does that feel better?"
"Yes, thank you." Saying the words because they were true, how you found every tight muscle and worked at them with the right amount of pressure.
Caught between wanting you to continue or to put you at a distance. That had been the plan after all, to get you to see that I was a person with a life. That can't really happen if I push you away.
Now though, I felt as if we were getting too close, unable to find that chasm of separation that I had for you when you had first taken me. There were only cracks, holes so random that I had to be careful where I placed my foot. Otherwise I would fall and be stuck forever.
Hairs tickled my head as I felt your hands run across my back.
"What are you doing?"
"Your hairs all in knots again."
"Yeah, it does that." Getting up from the bed, walking my paces around the room, enjoying the lack of pull the chain had as it drug behind me. Coming to the side with the stairs, knowing exactly how many steps I could take before the chain would normally snag.
Stopping five steps from the stairs.
If I wanted to I could keep going, place my hand on the railing, sit on the steps but that only felt like a tease.
Besides you were watching me only a few feet away and the door was most likely locked. Knowing that you would be on me in seconds if I even tried to go up the stairs, then you would put that collar back on me and never take it off again.
No.
I had to be patient in order for this to work, no matter how much my body screamed at me to race up the steps and lock the door behind me.
Forcing myself to look away walking back over to where you had once again moved the bucket using the hard plastic as a seat. Your sketchbook closed on the floor, black hardback and textured.
What else do you draw?
"You can look if you want."
Glancing up at you seeing that boyish grin on your face then taking a seat on the bucket as I set the book in my lap.
Being more than curious about what you took your time to draw, to see what inspired you.
On the first page was a dragon. Flying, head on the top right corner with its body long and skinny like a snake stretching across to the opposite bottom corner. Wings taking up the entirety of the space, scales all shaded differently. The wings filled with tears, claws bunched together underneath looking as if the drawing was going to leap right off the page.
Recalling the dream I had before I woke up. How you attacked the dragon, its screams from the distance, how I was about to...
Flipping the page over to find an owl, wide eyes nestled on a tree branch. Pointed ears, sharp beak, dots all along the brown feathers, light glistening off the sharp eyes. Looking as if the creature was staring right at me, into my soul. Leaves losing detail as they got closer to the actual tree.
Owls were smart, they were nocturnal, hunting in the dark. Like when you grabbed me. Did you like them for that reason?
When I turned to the next page the first thing I saw was the moon. Low and big, a dark sky with so many stars. Scanning over them to see if there were any patterns. Did you actually draw constellations or were these just random?
One of the dots seemed to connect, nothing looked familiar, being stuck here this was the closest I was going to get to an actual sky.
When would I be able to see the stars again, for real, with my own eyes? Nail sliding under the bottom corner still captivated by the night sky, stuck on the question.
Breath catching as soon as I took in what was on the next page.
Small nose, big eyes, smiling with puffy cheeks, hair hanging loosely on the shoulders.
You had drawn me.
Again.
This one, so different from the last. Capturing all my features, I still thought that I looked like a chipmunk but a cute one. The smile, making my eyes shine.
How long did this take you to draw?
"Told you I could draw a better one, just needed time."
Time.
All that time I've been down here, waking up to find you.
Slamming the book shut, not turning the page to see if there were any more drawings. I didn't want to look at myself drawn so happily. That's not how I felt, not at all.
"You don't like it."
I didn't answer, why should I make you feel better?
One step then another, turning in circles, silence building. All the while you stayed on the bed watching.
After a while I was expecting you to talk, to ask me something, even to come over to me but you didn't. Didn't do anything but sit there and watch me.
"Why do you look at me like that?"
"Because you're beautiful and I like watching what you do."
There was that word again.
Did you call the others that too? Sweet talk them into doing what you wanted. Did you draw them too?
What were they like?
Were they like me, have the same features? How did you come by them? Were they accidental encounters like I was?
If what you said was true that you were going to keep me forever then why didn't they last?
"I'm the third." Glad for the distance, I didn't want to be near you if you decided to lash out and my chances of getting away were far better with the leash.
"What?"
"What happened to the other two? If you plan on keeping me, why didn't you keep them?"
Pain sparked across your face as if I had physically hurt you, for the first time you looked away from me.
Eyes vacant, teeth clenching outlying your jaw even more.
I stayed still and quite unsure of what was going to happen next. Palms sweaty, breathing in short controlled breaths to keep myself calm.
"Raven black hair, so dark that in the sun it looked blue. That was the first thing I noticed about her. She had been hanging out by the dumpsters with a few others.
Baggy clothes, dirty, ripped. That's how they all were, living on the streets. I know how that is, what it feels like to rip through trash bags trying to find your next meal or for something to wear or even better something to sell.
She was so small and so young compared to them.
I couldn't stand to watch her like that so I asked her to come with me and she did. Surprisingly.
No questions asked but I did promise her food and a safe place to stay.
You'd be surprised what people are willing to do for that on the streets."
Seeing the look in your eyes knowing that you were speaking from personal experience. What have you done to survive out there? You had said that you had run off when you were thirteen, I had guessed to a shelter but then your father could have found you. So you had to survive on your own.
Wincing at the thought of sleeping in some dark alley at night in the cold. No shelter to protect you from anything, just having to trust that your stuff wouldn't be stolen in the middle of the night. Or worse, gulping at the image.
"Once I got her here I offered my bathroom to her and she gladly took advantage of the offer by spending over an hour in the shower. When she came back to the kitchen, hair still soaked, going straight for the food I prepared for her.
No longer wearing all those layers that she had on, just a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. That's when I realized how skinny she actually was. Her spine jutted out against the fabric on her back, collar bones sunk in so deep they could hold a cup of water. Nothing but bones. As she reached out for the drink I saw the needle marks at the crook of her elbow.
Drugs.
Easy to get on the streets, addicting. Once you start it's hard to stop because the sellers lock onto you. I had seen that before, her condition. If she didn't get help soon she was going to die. Either because of lack of nutrition or infection from an unclean needle that would ravage a body already so weak.
So I decided to keep her here.
At first she was fine, she loved having a place to stay, warm food to eat, indoor plumbing with a shower.
Then after a couple of days she got angry, started cursing at me.
She was trying to leave but I wouldn't let her.
She would threaten me, said she had to get out, to go see a friend. I couldn't let that happen, I wouldn't.
So I locked the door.
One day when I was coming down to bring her some food I found her scratching at her arms, blood covering them. I rushed over trying to get her to stop but she wouldn't.
Constantly yelling at me, craving her next fix.
Hurting herself no matter how much I pleaded with her to stop so I bound her to the bed, hoping that would stop her.
I would stay down here for hours just talking to her, placing a cold washcloth on her head when her body got too hot, tending to her wrists and ankles when she rubbed them raw.
She was getting better, at least I thought she was.
Not fighting me anymore, eating the food that I brought to her, so I untied the rope. We talked, everything was OK.
The next day I came home and the door was kicked open.
She was gone.
I went searching for her. Going up and down every street but she wasn't anywhere.
The next morning a body was reported on the news.
It was her.
'Another teen losing their life to addiction.'
I should have tried harder, I could have saved her, she didn't have to die like that."
Tears rushing down to your chin, hand gripping the post that you had been running your fingers along. Even from across the room I could see that the color had drained from your hand.
Those marks had been from distress. A girl trying to get free. Grooves made by struggling, struggling to get away but not from you, from this place. You bound her to help keep the girl safe.
In your own way you thought you were saving her, maybe you would have if she hadn't gotten out.
The girl had gotten out.
Gears turning in my mind, that's why you had me chained because you didn't want me getting out like she did.
Thinking things over, I didn't have an addiction, I wasn't living on the streets and from what you've said I didn't look anything like that girl.
Yet you took me anyway. All I wanted was to get back home. To get back the life that you took from me, just like you did to that girl.
The bed, this room, none of it was what I thought.
A place to wait for death.
That's not what you wanted.
This room was just a prison.
A place for you to keep me because you wanted me alive, you wanted me here.
Sobbing, mumbling incoherent words under your breath. Even as I came closer I still couldn't understand, your words jumbling together making sense only to you.
Leaning down, knees on the floor staring up into your eyes but you didn't see me. Lost in the distance your pupils unfocused. This close I could clearly see the pain you were feeling, the sense of loss that you had and the disappointment you held on yourself for not saving the girl.
You didn't want her to die or plot her death, though the girl's life did end and you were part of that.
Slowly lifting my hand to yours. Hesitant. This could still be a trap. A lie, a story to get me to let my guard down but your cries sounded and looked so genuine.
Your fingers ghostly white, your veins popping out, unmoving even under my touch.
This shouldn't bother me, seeing you like this. Lost, in pain, crying but it did. Seeing the water come from your eyes only made you more human. More like me.
Copying what you had done with me placing my index finger under your chin gently pressing your head up.
Cheeks soaked, eyes puffy, droplets landing on your jeans leaving dark spots as the material soaked up the liquid.
A complete mess.
Right then you weren't a strong prince wearing armor to protect yourself. At that moment you had no armor at all.
"I....should have done better, could have protected, looked harder. I should have done more, she died, I could have..." shaking your head still not seeing me right in front of you.
"It's not your fault." Those were my words. Who knows maybe if you hadn't gotten involved the girl wouldn't have overdosed trying to speed up the high that she had been deprived of. Disoriented from going so long without the one thing she craved doing whatever she had to do for her next fix.
Your entire face was soaked, my right hand still rested on top of yours on the post while my other hand was holding your head up. Finally your eyes locked on mine, straight and focused.
"Please don't leave me! I'll take care of you, I promise! Don't leave! Please!"
Suddenly you leaned forward, your head plunging onto my shoulder, wetness making its way through the fabric and onto my skin. Feeling your entire body trembling, unsure of what to do.
Voice stuck in the back of my throat , confused on how to respond, too shocked by what you had asked.
Staying in place, letting you cry on my shoulder making no move to console you more than that.
You wanted to save the girl.
The marks on the bed weren't from sick and twisted rape.
The girl had come here willingly.
You took care of her.
Tried to save her.
Bits and pieces making their way through my thought process, fitting together as I tried to make sense of this new found information.
You didn't murder the girl.
She got out.
Which means that I could too.