Brahms Heelshire ("The boy" fan fiction)

Chapter Eight

I opened my eyes. My head was spinning and throbbing at the same time. I immediately remembered Malcom and began to panic, did he make it? Did he get help? Did Brahms kill him? The questions in my mind were spiraling. I closed my eyes to try to relieve some of the pain in my head, but my efforts made no difference.

My arms and legs were still tied up, and were losing blood circulation. The gag in my mouth was drenched with saliva at this point. I didn't see Brahms in my room, but I knew he was close by. If he was clingy before, now he'd be inseparable from me. I let my head gently rest against the wall. I knew my chances of escaping were now even smaller than before. Tears made their way to my eyes, threatening to spill out at any moment.

Defeat, and hopelessness filled my stomach. Here I had thought Brahms changed because he really did care about me, but he really didn't. I thought about our moments of affection where he had kissed me, his apology, his kindness. I felt used. Dirty. Naive. I didn't change him, he just changed me. Changed me into trusting him even in the slightest, tricked me into thinking he had good left in him. Manipulated me into caring about him enough to want to help him. He was a monster. A sociopathic monster.

A fresh tear escaped my eye, and ran down my cheek dripping on my dirt covered jacket. I'll never let him in. Never.

Footsteps told me Brahms was near my bedroom. I sniffed, and wiped my eyes on my shoulder sleeve. Brahms walked in carrying a tray of food. I could see his smug grin through his disgusting mask. He made me sick. As if he read my mind, Brahms stalked over to me, and knelt down to my level, "why are you so disgusted Greta"? He purred in my ear. I scrunched my nose up at him and broke eye contact. Brahms didn't like that. The less I payed attention to him, the angrier he became. He slammed the food tray down on the ground and growled, "look at me"! I forced myself to make eye contact, my eyes began to burn with tears. Brahms chuckled, "eye contact isn't your strong suit is it Greta"? He squinted his eyes through the mask, I assumed he was smiling.

He shook his head and stood up. "Since your little escape plan last night, I've had to take extra precautions in confining you in the house, oh what fun that has been"! He paused with effect, "so I suppose I could untie you since there's not a place in the house you could run off to without me finding you, nor a place you could get out from, but I feel like you could use a few more days to think about your actions.... I mean in all honesty, you killed a man". My eyes grew wide. Malcom? It couldn't be? He didn't get away? He had to of gotten away! The tears that had been built up, threatened to spill out with every second that I thought about Malcom but I refused to allow that. Brahms would never get the satisfaction of seeing me be upset anymore. He wasn't going to get to see me phased.

When Brahms saw my reaction, his eyes seemed puzzled through the mask. On the inside I was in complete shock and despair, but Brahms couldn't mind read, so he would never see it. On the outside I was stiff, and emotionless. He ran a hand through his hair, and continued to star at me, waiting for some type of reaction from me. I looked away, staring out of the window hoping to get lost in the sky and be taken far away from the room and far away from Brahms.

Brahms' voice broke the silence, "weren't you happy here"? I turned towards him, my eyes were burning from the dry air. He looked at me hopefully, his eyes were intensely waiting for my answer. I looked down and shook my head. I shook it for a long time making sure he'd see it. I expected him to be angry at me, hurt me, or yell at me for being honest but he didn't. He just stood there, watching me with a confused concealed look. "You confuse me Greta". I looked at him, his eyes were looking at the ground. Was he upset by my answer? Didn't he expect it? I hoped with that answer he would finally leave me alone.

He sighed. His shoulders slumped and he looked back up at me. His eyes seemed almost glassed over like he was about to cry. I looked away before he could register I was paying attention to him. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall again. I just wished I could disappear, disappear from this awful never ending nightmare. I heard a 'flick' like a knife being switched opened. My eyes flew open and I stared at Brahms, his hand clutching a knife. Was he going to kill me?! I began to take deep breaths as he neared the bed, holding the knife at me as if he was going to stab my throat. I squinted my eyes shut not wanting to see him thrust the knife into my skin. Just as I accepted death, I heard the unexpected, a cutting noise of the rope.

I looked down at Brahms who was cutting my restraints. It surprised me to no end, he just said I was going to be staying in these ropes for a few more days. My eyebrows knitted together, perplexed, I stayed still until he was done. Why was he cutting them away? Does he not remember my "punishment"? Brahms yanked the last of the rope off of me, and removed the slimy gag from my mouth. Without a word, he stood up and walked out leaving me alone on the bed. I moved my arms and legs all around, and watched the discoloration in my limbs begin to disappear. He really was crazy. Why was he being nice all of the sudden? Does he feel bad? Could he feel bad? All of these questions swirled around my head again. I rubbed my face and stood up from the bed, immediately falling back down. I was weak, really weak. I needed water, food, and sleep.

When I was finally able to stand up, I limped into the bathroom, where I stared at my tattered reflection. "Jesus Gret you look awful" I said slightly humorously hoping that, that would keep myself from breaking down. I turned on the shower faucet and stripped the clothes off of me like a snake with it's skin.
I stepped into the steaming water and exhaled feeling the scalding water hit my body. I wanted so badly to wash the memories away. I came to terms with my reality. Brahms no longer made me blush, he made me cringe. Brahms would never make me feel safe, only alone and afraid. I lowered myself onto the shower floor and slumped into a ball. My life was nothing. There was no meaning in it anymore, there was no purpose to live. Brahms killed my only friend. Someone who loved me enough to try to fight for me. Someone who never abused or used me. Someone who was good and kind. Malcom didn't deserve that, he deserved a happy full life. If it wasn't for me he'd have it. Fresh tears glided down my cheeks as I thought of Malcom being slaughtered by Brahms. It made me loath Brahms even more.

He took away my freedom, and my personality. He took away my passion, and my dignity. He erased me.

I'm not Greta anymore. I'm a shell. A fragment. Greta Evans is gone.

~

I opened my eyes, the water falling on me was now cold. I had fallen asleep in the shower. I rubbed my forehead and stood up slowly grabbing onto anything to help stabilize myself. I turned the faucet off, and carefully stepped out of the tub. I grabbed a towel out of the cabinet and wrapped it tightly around me. I walked out of the bathroom, and flopped on the bed. My head was cloudy and gray. I sighed loudly. "Greta"? I shot up from the bed. Brahms stared at me, his mask in his hand, his face completely naked. What did he want?
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Chapter nine eight of officially done! This chapter was a little hard to write since I had to close some plot holes I feel like I had. The chapters will get better as the book comes along. With the holidays coming up, I'm not sure how much I'll be updating but I'll sure try to! Thank you so much for the reads and favorites !!
-Ri