bamboo doesn't grow in dark spaces. [80K Words / Complete]

chapter thirteen. 💚

Case and Hannah were the shining beacon of high school sweethearts. Lovebirds, people called them: rarely apart and usually referred to as a collective. Sophomore year, Case had started listening to garage punk and riding his skateboard, and Hannah had dyed the front streaks of her mousy hair bubblegum-pink and framed her eyes with black kohl. If they posted selfies, they got a decent number of likes and comments on how cool they looked; but if they posted a pic together, they went semi-viral with heart reacts and you guys r so cute! Couple goals. Make babies plz.

Hannah made sure their class schedule was identical, even if that meant he had to give up one or two classes with his friends to join her in English Lit or Music Theory. On lunch breaks, they sat in the quad with their friends—a converging of his and hers, a recipe that didn't necessarily blend well. Somedays, Evan and Miles would crave something different: a game of basketball, or sneaking off campus for lunch and cigarettes. But whenever Case tried to follow, even if he asked permission first, Hannah would remind him she didn't want to leave her friends.

How could he leave her? They were a couple, they were meant to be together always. And if he got too pushy, too unreasonable, she'd warn him: if you're not there at lunch, I'll break up with you. It was fine to be this codependent, because they were sixteen and they were in love. And wasn't this what love was supposed to be?

* * *

Case was woken by the mechanical rattle of the dumbwaiter. Disorientated and half-asleep, his first instinct was to reach for his phone to check the time, until his surroundings crystalized (a bare mattress instead of his Space Jam bedsheets; an open shower made of iron and pipes instead of his bookshelf full of games and photo-frames he'd turned around instead of thrown away) that he remembered where he was and scoffed at his own dumbness.

The drug must have still been in his system. Wearing off, but sending him on a comedown. He opened the dumbwaiter, expecting the same bare essentials chicken-and-rice Sir had been feeding him for the last few days (Case had already determined that Sir had him on a schedule, giving him the same pre-prepared and microwaved meal once a day). Except this time, he found a bowl, made from the same toddler-friendly plastic, and a shallow spoon instead of a dull fork. Steam wafted toward him, and Case caught the smell of warm milk and honey.

Case took the still-hot bowl, his stomach already grumbling with interest. Inside was a serving of oats, sticky and swollen like lumps of craft-paste. His mouth watered: finally, something different to eat. Case settled himself on the bed, eating spoonfuls of oatmeal that either burned his tongue or were still cold in the middle. Not that a few microwave issues bothered him. His deprived taste buds were singing from the hit of sugar. How long had it been since he'd eaten something sweet, or had the freedom to raid a fridge whenever he wanted?

How many days have I been here? Case wondered as he chewed, the flavour in his mouth turning acridic. Seven days? Ten? Over a week, missing, presumed dead . . . Milk curdled on his tongue, turning his insides sour. His family thought he was dead. They were planning his funeral . . . Wait, had they already held it? Already mourned him over an empty coffin?

No—no, there was a crime. A murder. Police were investigating. And when police found Sir, they'd find Case. And he'd be alive, unharmed and untouched, and he'd get to go home to his family. All Case had to do was wait, survive until he was rescued.

Case swallowed. There were still a few mouthfuls of oatmeal left, but he'd lost his appetite and pain in his throat was creeping back. Hangover clamping over his head. He put the bowl and spoon back in the dumbwaiter, then stripped back down to his underwear for a shower. As steaming water hammered against his back, he reassured himself that he was fine. All he had to do was keep this up and survive a little longer until someone came to his rescue.