When he opens the door to my room I’m determined to resist him this time. I can’t go on like this. It’s too much, too confusing. I feel as if I’m losing my mind, losing myself. I already lost my connection with the rest of the world weeks—or is it months?—ago.
“Hey babe, I’ve got a surprise for you?” His voice is soft and gentle and for a moment I dare to hope that this time….
“Close your eyes and keep them closed.”
Knowing better than to resist, I do as he asks. When he takes my hand and pulls me along, I follow. I’ve walked this route so often; not being able to see doesn’t make a difference anymore. If he let go of me I’d still find my way without walking into walls or furniture.
I don’t count anymore, but I know the numbers. Four steps from where I stood to the door. I lift my feet so I don’t stumble across the threshold and am already turning left when I feel him pulling me that way. From now on I’m not entirely sure. It will either be five steps to the kitchen, seven to the living room or ten to…But I don’t want to think about that. He won’t take me there, why would he? I’ve done nothing wrong.
As always my heartbeat grows erratic when I take my sixth step. I hate not knowing what he has in store for me. He knows that, and thrives of it. It makes him laugh whenever he sees my anxiety.
Step seven and then we turn. I swallow the relieved sigh before it can escape.
“Now look what I made for you.” He sounds excited.
I open my eyes. A fucking blanket fort. I nearly say the words out loud. “That’s great”, I say instead. I turn my head to face him while hoping the forced smile on my face will convince him.
“Get in. Sit down.”
He pushes me towards his construction and I silently admit to myself that he’s done an amazing job. His fort looks like one of those tents nomads in the desert live in. The fairy lights are a nice touch. He’s trying to be nice and romantic.
As soon as we sit down, he presses his lips against mine and claims me…again. I wrap my arm around his waist, where I know he likes and expects to feel it.
He pulls back, leaving his hand on my cheek and softly stroking my face and neck. “See babe, I take care of you. Aren’t you happy to be here? Aren’t you grateful for everything I do for you?” His voice still sounds gentle, but I catch the edge, I hear everything he doesn’t say, I know what will happen if I don’t appreciate his efforts enough.
I stay quiet for too long and his grip on my cheek grows tighter, his fingers pushing hard into the side of my neck.
“You’re mine.” His voice is harsh.
He’s right, I’m his.
I couldn’t have known that accepting his offer of a nightcap would mean the end of my freedom. Weeks—or has it been months?—ago he brought me to his home. I haven’t left it since. No matter how pretty he tries to make it, this place is my prison, and he’s my jailor.
562 words. And before anybody asks; yes I do have plans to do more with this particular flash. J
As always other stories based on the same image will be posted in the Monday Flash Fics Facebook Group. Make sure not to miss them! And check the group next week too. I’ll be in Southampton for the MM UK Meet, so there definitely won’t be a flash from me.