Coping Mechanisms|Peterick

Guns For Hands

Trigger Warning-Gun violence and mild gore
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I woke up to the slam of a door, and Pete looming over me in only a pair of gray shorts. My vision was blurred after my deep sleep, but I could still make out some kind of tattoo near the bottom of his toned torso.

I drifted in and out of consciousness as Pete unlocked the handcuffs, and laid me on a mattress that he must have pulled out.

When I was fully awake, I sat up, completely amazed that I wasn't restricted from movement at all! I intertwined my fingers, and stretched my arms behind my back. They hit a cold object, it fell over making a slight cracking noise. I turned around and sat with my legs crossed.

Pete gave me water.

It was a simple plastic water bottle, droplets of moisture clung to the sides. The top half was partly crinkled, which I assumed was from when I knocked it over.

I desperately snatched it off the cold ground. After fumbling with the cap in my frantic, dehydrated state, I finally slid the cap off. Relief flowed through my heart, and I swung the bottle to my parched mouth carelessly.  The sting from my cheek was barely noticeable while the cool liquid slid down my throat. Water dribbled from my chin into the mattress, and I laid down. The wet spot was cold and uncomfortable. It soaked into my skin through my sweater, and I shuddered. The cold pierced me like a knife, but I relished in the fact that I at least had water.

After I finished off the water bottle, I turned to my side, temporarily content. A small piece of paper that I hadn't noticed before in all my excitement was set next to the wet patch where the water bottle was originally set.

I rolled over once more, so I was close enough to get to it and snatched it cautiously. Cradling my head with my hand, I held the paper up to my face with the other hand.

"Don't try anything. I can see you. I'll be down soon. We'll tall then.", I read the note aloud.

The note must have been from Pete. His handwriting was horrendous.

A prick of hope pierced my heart. Maybe Pete wasn't all that bad. Maybe things will turn out okay after all. In that moment a seed of deadly hope was planted into my heart. Though it was surrounded by dead shrubbery, at least that small seed of hope was there.

While I was lost tending to the garden of my mind, an all too familiar door slam, played as a peaceful melody to my thoughts. A set of footsteps approaching kept the time.

Something smacked me in the head, locking the picket fence, and throwing me out of my garden escape. I whipped my head around to see Pete, completely clothed now. The mattress sank down an inch when he plopped down onto it. The hood of his red jacket flopping behind him. He set his feet on his thighs covered in black skinny jeans, and his red converse were stained, and one was spray painted black.

I glanced at my lap where the object that assaulted me fell. To my surprise, it wasn't a torture instrument, but a protein bar. Caramel flavored.

"Thank you.", I managed to murmer before I devoured it. The caramel stuck to my throat, and I regretted chugging all the water at once.

"You need clothes.", he simply stated, and headed to a cabinet in the back corner of the room. "It's not exactly your style, but it'll have to do.", he called back to me. A pair of baggy jeans, and a long sleeved shirt slapped me in the face.

"Was that really necessary."

" Of course it was honey."