Love In Death

3: A Stranger's Daughter

I woke up in my own room. The walls had a dark grey base, and graffiti. Posters of bands were stuck on the walls. My black dresser had makeup lying around in a mess. I lay on the bed, which was in a lump. This was my room.

Only that it wasn't. It seemed to be, on first glance, but I had plenty time to look around. All my photos were missing. The ones I took with Lou, the ones I had with Chris, and even ones with Rock Revival. And there was an air of uneasiness. Something was off about the place.

It's a little like when you come home from school, and you know someone has been touching your stuff, even though face-value looks all the same. It was my room, but it wasn't the one I lived in.

And that scared me.

I knew I couldn't be home. I recalled Rock Revival's band practice. I recalled my muscles going slack, and blacking out. I couldn't be home.

For the first time, I wished I were home. I would take any amount of sass from Donny. I would spend time with my parents. I would play with Annie and her Barbies. Anything. I just wanted to be home.

Just then a man opened the door and approached me. He has short black hair and deep, black eyes. His face was clean shaven. He was dressed in a polo and jeans. He didn't look particularly scary. He was relatively normal. I was scarier than him, but I was terrified of him, because I knew it was his fault that I wasn't home.

"Hello, my dear. Did you sleep well?" the man asked. I breathed heavily. I crawled away from him and cornered myself up the wall behind the bed.

"Who-who are you? And what are you doing to me?" I stammered, fear taking over every fibre of my body. I wanted to go home, to be safe.

He shook his head. "You don't have to be afraid, Ariadne. I don't want to hurt you. I want to take care of you. I want you to be my daughter."

The only thing that I could think, despite my situation was 'Who the hell is the nutcase?' He kidnapped me, so that I could become his daughter? Who does that? That's disturbed. This guy probably belonged in a mental hospital.

Of course, I didn't want to die then, so I kept my trap shut.

"Who are you? And why does this look like my room?" I questioned.

He smiled at me creepily. A shiver went down my spine, but not in the good way like when Chris kisses me. "I'm Norman Isaac. This is your new room. I modelled it after your old one so that you'd be used to it."

"Why me?"

"Because you're perfect," he replied. When an attractive boy your age tells you you're perfect, he's probably trying to get into your pants. Either way, you'd be really touched. When an old guy who trapped you in his house after knocking you out with what I'm pretty sure was chloroform, you get mortified and terrorised. Not to mention that the guy, Norman, talks in a really creepy way.

I decided to drop it. "What day is it?"

"Saturday afternoon."

I nodded. It had been a day since I'd gone missing. I was positive that my parents had called the police by now, notifying them of my absence. While I had no idea where I was, with a crazy man who wanted to be my father, I took comfort in the fact. They could find me. They would find me.

I could be saved.

"What's for lunch, Norman?" I said, putting on the strongest front I could muster. I didn't want to show my fear to this man. I wasn't sure where he was coming from, but I wasn't about to give him that satisfaction.

He looked relieved. "I made you fish and chips. I know it's your favourite. I put coleslaw, so you get vegetables. I hope you'll settle in well. If you want anything, just ask. I only want to make you happy."