Highest Rank #61 in Fanfiction! Juliette McGill finds the perfect position as a nanny for a young boy with special needs. Only when she arrives at the family's home in British Columbia, she discovers that the boy is not quite what she expected and t...
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Food mysteriously arrived in our kitchen a few days later; it must have been brought in while we slept. What kind of whack-job game was Theodore playing, threatening to kill us and holding us hostage but still feeding us? It was pretty cowardly, if you ask me, to send food and meds when we were sleeping so he didn't have to deal with us.
I definitely wasn't complaining about the food, though, since Harry and I had been eating mostly peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But Theodore was playing mind games and I refused to be manipulated. In fact, if I ever got that fucker alone in a room, I would happily force-feed him a lifetime worth of anti-psychotics since he was clearly the one with severe mental issues.
Harry's withdrawal had vanished with the new low doses of medications. It was getting colder outside but we went out every day and tried to come up with a way to escape. The water of the inlet couldn't be more than 45 or 50 degrees this time of year so swimming was out of the question completely, not knowing how long we'd have to be submerged. Even though I'd been a competitive swimmer, I didn't know how to stay warm in that kind of water and neither of us had wet suits handy.
I had begun to think that the road that passed by the estate was a dead end because we never saw cars traveling past. Ever. We kept wishing and hoping and praying for someone to make a wrong turn and end up where we could scream and yell for help but it just didn't happen. It kind of pissed me off because Theodore had told me that "many" of his clients came to the house but where the hell were they now? Nevertheless, we screamed and yelled and hollered for help from all the corners of the property that we could reach on foot. Unfortunately, I had never realized how secluded we were until now.
The fences were anchored a good way into the ground and the ground was starting to freeze, so even digging under them wasn't really an option without some heavy equipment, and I hadn't seen as much as a shovel in our quarters.
We thought about breaking the windows in the doors to the main house and trying to get out, but there was always an armed guard standing in front of them. Neither of us wanted to have a gun pointed at us again.
We spent many days hiking, brainstorming, and talking. Harry had shifted from wanting to know about science and math to wanting to know about "adult" things like driver's licenses and voting and mortgages. He was really getting interested in what kinds of responsibilities he would have when we got out of this wretched place.
When. We always said when we got out. Not if.
One afternoon, we were snuggling by the fireplace in his treehouse. It was our favorite spot on cold fall days to just cuddle. And make out, of course. He was slouched in the boho-style daybed and I was burrowed into his side with my arm slung across his chest.
"How do people get married?" He asked out of the blue.
"What do you mean?" I wondered, bringing my hand up to pet his face, feeling the stubby whiskers under my fingertips. As far as I knew, he shaved about once a week and didn't have much regrowth. It was definitely cute.
