cherry (h.s)

six

Charlotte Thompson

My eyes slowly flutter open.

I'm dizzy.

I'm confused.

Where am I?

I look up. My wrists are cuffed above my head to a headboard. I'm on a bed.

Memories flash in my mind.

I was walking.

I was grabbed.

Black car. Harry.

Harry kidnapped me. Now I'm handcuffed in his bed.

I immediately start to panic. I tug at the cuffs, of course it's no use.

I needed to find a way out of here. He's going to kill me.

I look around at the bedroom I'm in. It's very put together. It's sleek and mostly black. Black dresser, black sheets and blankets, as well as pillows. Even the curtains were black.

As I'm studying the bedroom, the door opens.

And he walks in, hands behind his back and a smirk plastered on his face. He had a bandana tied around his head, and he was in a black t-shirt and jeans. A cross necklace hung around his neck. His arms were littered with tattoos, I recognized some from when we met before, and he had rings on his fingers.

"Morning." he says. "You were passed out all night. Didn't think I drugged you that much, that's my bad." his smirk doesn't fade.

I was so scared, but I had to put on a brave front. "Let me go."

He tsks. "Sorry, baby. You're not goin' anywhere."

"Why am I handcuffed?" I pull at my wrists again.

He glances at the cuffs, and shrugs. "Couldn't have you running away. Besides, it's a good look for you."

Just his words made me feel violated and disgusted. "Fuck you."

He looks at the ground and chuckles under his breath. "She's feisty."

He walks over to the edge of the bed, then sits down.

"Alright, ask your questions. I cant promise I'll answer." he gestures for me to talk.

"Why am I here?"

"You told the police."

"Did you kill my family?"

He breathes in sharply through his nose. "No."

I didn't believe him.

"Are you gonna kill me?"

"That's all up to you, Cherry. Behave and I'll consider keeping you around."

"When did you start this whole killing thing?"

He laughs darkly. "Next question."

"How old are you?"

"20."

He's so young. Only 2 years older than me. Why is he so evil? He's barely lived.

"Can you untie me now?"

He smirks again. "I guess you've been locked up long enough." he approaches me.

"But," he grabs my jaw, making me look into his bright green eyes. "if you make a move, if you try to run...I'll kill you." he threatens.

He takes a small, silver key from his back pocket. He wraps one hand around my wrists, and unlocks the cuffs. My wrists come free from the harsh, tight metal.