Taken | h.s + bey ✔️

5. White Sheet

You could imagine my relief when I realized he was just putting me in a bedroom on the third floor and not some box or his bedroom.

It was what you would probably imagine a bedroom in an old plantation home would look like. It was like it hadn't been redecorated since the 1800s.

The dark hardwood floors matched the wood end tables and armoire. There was a four poster bed with thick, ugly, red and white bedding and a Persian rug underneath it. The white paint on the walls had peeled off in some places and there was a wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room by the window (sealed and barred).

It wasn't ugly (apart from the bedding). In fact, it fit a certain aesthetic that I sometimes admire.

It's an upgrade. I'm still chained to the bed though.

There's a stack of books on one of the end tables by the bed for me to read. And I get to shower! My kidnapper insists on being inside the bedroom when I do, though. The bathroom door must remain open.

The idea almost made me change my mind about taking a shower, but it turned out that he didn't want to watch me shower to be creepy, he wanted to make sure I didn't.... "Conspire" or make a run for it due to me not being able to be chained while in the adjoining bathroom.

It's just been two days since I upgraded to this room (it's Wednesday). All I do is sleep, read, cry and stomp on the hallowed wood floors to let him know I need to use the bathroom or something.

Tonight went exactly that way. I slept for most of the day, skimmed through the pages of one of the old books, cried for a bit, and then stomped so he'd come up.

This time, he brought with him another sub (for me) and what looked like a folded up, white sheet that he'd carried in his armpit.

"I need to shower," I told him.

He nodded and went to go start the shower for me. He came back to unchain me, grabbed my wrist gently, and walked me to the bathroom.

I waited for him to turn around and head back into the bedroom before quickly getting undressed and hopping in.

I try to spend as much time as I can in there. Not only is the hot water comforting, but it's the only time I don't have a chain around my ankle. The solitude of the bathroom or shower has always been comforting to me. When I was back home and became annoyed by any lecturing my parents did or the childishness of my siblings, I'd go to the bathroom and take a looong bath. In college, when I got tired of the presence of my roommate, I'd go shower. Now, being in the shower was the only thing that gave me a sense of freedom.

I closed my eyes and stepped directly under the water. I don't know how long I stayed like that but I was snapped out of relaxation when I heard a soft knock on the already-opened door.

"Rose...," he called for "me" softly.

I sighed and looked to his shadow through the white curtain, "I'm almost done." I could see him nod and then walk away from the door.

I enjoyed another 30 seconds before turning off the water and wrapping a towel around myself before stepping out onto the cold, white, tile floor. I shivered at the breeze coming from the bedroom.

I looked for my same pajama shorts and tank I had on but I couldn't find them.

All that was there was that folded white sheet he had brought with him.

I stepped toward the door and peeped my head out. He was sitting in the rocking chair on the other side of the room, hunched over, with his face in his hands.