18. English diamond

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The first morning, the monster behaved disturbingly normal. He behaved almost like the man who had lured him, but he was still a monster and could not fool Michael any longer. The previous night's roughness would not let him forget it. So even though the man that the monster pretended to be laid out a beautiful-looking breakfast for him, Michael was wary and exceedingly uncomfortable in his presence.

He took a seat down at the table like the monster instructed and gazed out into the gray morning. The man set a glass of orange juice on the table in front of him, drawing his attention to it, then a couple of toasts and some pieces of fruit; apple and grapes. Hesitantly, Michael reached to take a piece of an apple.

"Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?" Ricky asked. Michael was silent, observing him. Why was he so polite now? Why was he serving him breakfast like this, like he was a lover and not a prisoner? It made no sense after the violence of the previous night that still made him feel discomfort being seated down on the hard stool. "Well?"

"T-tea," he replied hesitantly, "please," he swallowed nervously when the man smiled.

"You English love your tea, don't you?" He asked, amused, and Michael didn't know how to reply so, instead, he nipped on the piece of apple in his hands.

"I will go to the office today," Ricky said after pouring him some tea and taking a seat opposite him. Michael gazed at him and nodded. "You can't go outside while I'm gone. The front door will be locked. There are security cameras and I have men ready to check on you if I see anything out of the ordinary. Understand?" He asked, with a casual voice like all of it was normal.

There was only one room in the apartment that was locked and forbidden for him to enter. Michael imagined that was where the phone was. Before Ricky left him alone that day, he assured him he would be quite safe. He reminded him once more of the security personnel that would come to his aid if they spotted anything out of the ordinary.

Aid. What a joke it was...

 Safe was such a relative word. He was far from safe, far from secure. He was a prisoner, they both knew that. And the man had made preparations; all sharp knives were kept in a locked cabinet, and all medicine as well. Of course, there were ways to end one's life without sharp weapons or medicine, if that was what the monster worried about. He could choke himself for one, or bang his head to the wall maybe ,if he did hard enough and in the right angle... But death was not what he was really after. He had not lost hope entirely, and perhaps the monster knew that. Perhaps was more worried about Michael attacking him with the weapons and to be fair, he did dream he could find such a chance and such courage to do so.

He hadn't reached that state of mind yet. The monster had warned him enough of all his associates whose connections would reach his home as well and the punishment would fall on those he loved.

Michael felt relieved when Ricky was gone. He spent hours looking at the world through the windows. They were so high up that if a person would fall, they'd surely die.

Michael wondered if the fall would be enough to kill a person, or if would one still feel when your body would smash against the asphalt below. The thought made him shudder. It was useless to ponder, though. He really had no intention of ending his life, and besides, the windows weren't the ones that a person could easily break from the inside. Still, he had silently wondered about the easiest way to end it if he'd lost all hope. It caused him some distress. It was too early to lose hope, much too early. And... Suicide is a sin. The words of a priest echoed in his mind, from somewhere years ago.

He didn't exactly believe that, or perhaps he didn't want to. In the opinion of that priest he had already sinned enough, but he needed to keep faith that God would be forgiving, God would be understanding. He had to focus on positive. No matter how difficult it was to find any rejoice from that small measure of positive.

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