You Belong To Me

Chapter seventeen:

Waking up was the most disorienting feeling that Scott had gone through in a while. He sat up in the room he had fallen asleep in, but he didnt remember falling asleep, but his throat hurt and his tonsils felt like they were trying to suffocate him. He remembered staring at the ceiling for hours but then that was it; sleep from then on. He looked around his room, eyes hurting each time he moved them. Frost coated the windows and snow piled on the sill. The whole room was freezing, but Scott wasnt, not yet anyways. The bed was warm as his body had eventually built up enough heat. He felt like he could rest forever, maybe he would melt into the mattress and decompose here.

Unfortunately, the peace of the morning was short lived as the survival instinct burned into his mind reawakened. He wasnt safe and he wouldnt be safe until he could get out, but now with the snow and a new storm coming every other day, there was no way that Scott would be able to run away, not in his shape. Running being not an option anymore, he needed to come up with another way of getting out of here, or at least surviving. A new idea suddenly clicked in his brain, but it was stupid and dangerous and there was no way that Scott could get away with this without repercussions, but he had to try. He wanted to see what the man would do if he disappeared for a moment. The man was smart, incredibly so, but even then, Scott could make him think he was anywhere.

He sat up, his leg throbbing more painfully than it had yesterday. He ignored it, though, he had to. It wouldnt kill him, it just ached. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and landed awkwardly, keeping his steps light despite how easily it was to walk heavily on these types of floors. Using the bed, he lowered himself onto the floor, and then he laid back. The wood was freezing through his thin T-shirt. Maybe the man would get him warmer clothes, or maybe the man would hang him naked out in the snow after this trick. He wiggled himself underneath the bed, the skirt hiding everything underneath. Once under, he managed to wriggle himself to lay at an angle so that he could be completely hidden under the queen-sized bed.

He was still so sick, and felt even worse than he did last night. His head pounded, his eyes felt like they might pop from his skull and his muscles were weak. Maybe he really was dying. He had no medical knowledge, but he was sure his leg wasnt right and it was probably really infected. Picturing his leg covered in pus and porous wounds made him gag, throat clenching. He pushed the thought away, trying to close his mind.

The house was so silent but with his ear pressed to the floor, he could hear the heating in the pipes and then, if he really strained his ears, he could hear footsteps; footsteps that were drawing closer and closer. He backed himself further under the bed, but without the ability to bed his knees, he couldn't get any deeper. The footsteps worked closer and closer to his room and then the door knob turned and opened. There was a momentary pause, the boots didnt move from the doorway and then, in a burst, they rushed into the room. Scott tensed himself as he heard the sheets on the bed being rustled and ripped off the mattress completely as if Scott had managed to work himself into the mattress.

Scott... He heard the man mutter. He didnt seem too distraught but there was enough emotion in his voice to signal that Scotts missing had meant something. Scott? A genuine plead this time. Scott wanted to laugh, why would he come out only because the man called for him. He adjusted, nervously, the boney parts of his body hurt against the hard floors. He watched the boots, only the bottoms, pace across the room. The trunk right beside Scott was thrown open and blankets were tossed around. Then the boots rushed to the closet, more panicked. Panic was something that would build and build and build until it ruined a person. The bed would be next surely, but then again, what if the man didnt think about the bed.

The boots rushed to the door and then stopped, he could hear the mans frenzied breaths, fear that his precious had run away again and was frozen to death in the woods, how stupid was he? But then they turned abruptly and faced the bed. They stomped right to him, the bed skirt lifted and, in a heart-stopping moment, the mans face appeared. He was enraged, beyond enraged, in fact. He pulled away, laughing hysterically before reaching under the bed, grabbing for Scotts arms.