stockholm syndrome | styles

chapter eleven

MISSIE

"You told him!" Derek yelled at me. "We trust you and this is what we get?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said smoothly, keeping my eyes focused onto the book I was reading. I wasn't following along, and, honestly, I already forgot the title. I was only holding it so it looked like I was busy.

"Don't give me that shit." He scoffed.

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about." If I learned anything, it'd have to be lying.

"That's not what he told me." Derek muttered.

I looked up from my book, slightly in shock. "Sorry?"

"He told me everything you told him." He angrily said.

I stared blankly at him. That couldn't be true.

"Come with me." He growled and grabbed me by the wrist, causing me to drop my book. He pulled me along, downstairs to where my parents were.

No, no, no. He was going to tell them.

I tried pulling myself from his grip, but failed repeatedly. "No, please." I begged.

"No what?" He stopper suddenly and looked back at me. Derek was angry. Really angry. I stayed silent to avoid any physical harm I didn't doubt he'd cause.

"I'm-" Scared. I finished in my mind. "Sorry."

"You're sorry?" He hesitated before he sighed, "Go. You're not allowed to go down there unless to feed him or I will tell them."

I nodded quickly in agreement, rushing to my room. I shut the door behind me, leaning back onto the door and slid down to the floor as I let tears fall from my eyes. This wasn't fair. Derek was my boyfriend–kind of. I didn't know what we were, but boyfriend is simpler to say. But, either way, he shouldn't have any authority over me.

I buried my head between my knees. My life was a mess. How did I end up here? Sometimes it seemed like death was my only option. Maybe it was, but I couldn't actually go through with it.

It was like I was trapped in my own home.