Stockholm Syndrome

4. Breaking News!

The day seemed to go by fast yesterday. I woke up the next morning with pain on my ears, remembering my newly pierced ears. I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair, it didn't take as long to run through because it was short. I sighed and let out a small smile because I really did like my new haircut. Something more than that seemed different though. Oh, that's right, there was no smell of breakfast this morning. J always makes breakfast. I got up, brushed my hair and walked downstairs to see J sitting on the couch. Not just any J, an angry J staring at his TV. "J?" I asked softly. He turned and looked at me, but then looked back at the TV without saying a word. "Emily Miller, age 18, has been missing for 4 days now," the interviewer explained. "We have her parents right here to speak," he continued. I rushed to the couch J was on and sat on the opposite end, as usual. I saw my parents appear on the screen. My dad spoke while my mom was right by his side crying. Tears fell from my eyes immediately as I put my hands over my mouth. "Our daughter means the world to us, she's our only child. If you've seen her PLEASE contact us. You would be doing us all a huge favor," my dad finished speaking. I noticed all my friends and family in the background. There was a crowd of people. My sobs got louder as I saw how many peaople cared and missed me. "Oh my gosh," I said between cries. "Emily, if you're watching this... please come home. We miss you." Lexi spoke while Tanya and Ashley cried. "My friends!" I cried out and got up from the couch. "This is all your fault J! They need me there! Let me go, take me back!" I cried and cried. At this moment I didn't know what to do with myself. I gripped my hair tight and screamed at the ground finding it harder to breath the more I cry. "I wanna go home! You're putting me through hell!" I yelled in his face. What was happening to me had not happened in a long time, I was having a panic attack. "Shut up, Emily, just shut the hell up!" He screamed in my face. His face turned red and he turned off the TV. "J! I want to go-" I started. "Shut up, Emily!" He stormed out of the house followed by a loud slam of the door. I watched as he left, I sat on the couch and cried for as long as I could remember, I don't think I've ever cried this much. I lied down on the couch and cried myself to sleep.

I wake from my sleep with a terrible migraine. To my surprise, the first thing I wanted to do was call out for J... but he isn't here. Has he been gone all this time? I check the clock. 2:57 in the afternoon. Where could he be? Interrupting my thoughts my stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't eaten today. Even though I don't have much of an appetite right now, I should still eat. I get up from the couch and make my way to the kitchen. I look in the refrigerator and get out a carton of strawberries. They remind me of my mother's garden, I smiled at that thought. After about 5 or 6 berries the door swings open, to reveal an emotionless looking J. I stare at him waiting for any type of reaction. He simply smirks, stumbling his way towards me. J is only about 4 feet within me and I can already smell the alcohol reeking off of him. "J?" I ask. For a second he just stares back at me, then replies, "I think I'm gonna go nap," then stumbles up the stairs. I almost want to see if he's okay, but I'm too frightened. I continue eating my strawberries, wondering if I should turn back on the news. I know I can't, I can't stand to see all of those people like that. I need to take my mind off things, I put the strawberries back in the refrigerator and wondered what I should do. I looked around the kitchen and noticed how untidy the place was. I guess I'll clean, I'll do him a favor. Hopefully, this clears my mind.

The next time I look at the clock, it's nearly 5:30. I had finished cleaning the whole house. I then hear steps coming from upstairs. I look at the stairs noticing a messy haired J. I couldn't tell what emotions were running through him, but I knew that he was not happy. "Sorry for screaming at you," he replied with a soft voice. His eyes red from all the drinking he'd done before his nap. He's actually apologizing for the first time ever. "Also, sorry that you had to see me drunk," he looked down. Honestly, I don't want to see him drunk ever again. "It's fine," I whispered. "See, this is why I hate apologizing because whenever someone apologizes the answer is always, 'it's fine' or 'it's okay'. when it's really not." He has a point there. I didn't know what to say to him so all I could do was shrug. "Nice hair," I commented. He lifted a hand up to feel. "Ha, very funny." he said rolling his eye. I giggled lightly while he showed no smile. Did he not like my joke? He knows I'm joking but whatever. I watch his eyes look around the room, "Did you clean my house?" he asks. I give him a small nod. He then looks around again with a satisfied look on his face. "Nicely done."

Tonight I had to decided to sleep on the couch, for J's sake. Again, I couldn't sleep, but this time it was because I had 2 nightmares. I had a dream of multiple men keeping me hostage, they hurt me. I don't even want to think about that. Followed by that was one from a scary movie I'd watched with my friends. I couldn't help but look around the living room, seeing faces in every direction. I hear something fall and I jump up from the couch, I run up to J's room almost tripping over his sweatpants that are to big for me. I walked into the room, "What are you doing?" J woke. Stupid, light sleeper. "I don't want to sleep alone," I admit. "Why?" he sounded annoyed, but that's just the way he is when he's woken from sleep. "I had a couple bad dreams." I look at the ground. "Come here," he speaks, leaving his eyes remained closed. I shut the bedroom door and quickly get into the bed. He put his arms around me like he did on the couch that one night. Does he do this when he's tired? I wish he was always this tired. I find myself falling asleep better and quicker when he does this. Is it wrong to think that?

Hands. Big, strong and muscular hands on my waist. Tighter than when we fell asleep. He's usually up by now. He's probably got a hangover, I should make him tea. I try to get up but feel the hands pull me back. "No," he mumbles. Is he dreaming? I try again. "I said, no," he grips my waist and makes sure I stay close. I sigh and face towards him. My face meets his chest, I look up to see his face, but also a sleeping J. I couldn't help but smell his shirt, but it does smell good. I could smell the cologne he'd been wearing, I put one hand to his chest. As I moved my hand his shirt lowered, on his chest I could see writing, it was a tattoo. I want to see it. I tried to lower the shirt more. "Stop," he said, which made me jump. I slowly let go of the shirt. He yawned and opened his dark brown eyes that looked at me. I looked up at his face, "What?" I questioned. All he did was shake his head as if to say nothing. He took the hand that was around me and moved pieces of his hair that were in his face. I could feel that as soon as he moved his hand, I got cold, he was warm. "Do you have tattoos?" I asked. "Yep," he replies nodding his head. "Can I see them?" I asked smiling and biting my lip. He hesitates for a minute, "I guess." He then took off his shirt. The first thing I noticed was how in shape he is, very impressive. On his chest were 2 names, one on the right, and one on the left. "Who are they?" I wanted to touch, but he might be weirded out by that. "My parents," he simply said. I nod, very nice. He turns around revealing his back. His back was filled with names that formed a cross. I didn't think he was religious, I don't know and I'm not going to question. I couldn't help myself this time, I had to touch. I lifted up my hand and stroke the cross that went down his back. He almost told me to stop, but let me keep going. "Wow," I admired how unique it was. "Okay, that's enough looking," he says putting his shirt back on. "You have scars on your back, what happened?" I felt them as I was touching his back. "I fell," he lied to me. "Don't lie to me," I say in a stern voice just like him. "It's no buisness of yours anyway. I'm going to pick up some breakast." I watch as he gets up from the bed. "Can I come?" I was curious. I was tired of sitting inside this house all day. "No," he simply states. After that, he knew what was coming, begging. I begged and begged... and yelled. Guess what? I got my way. But the only way I can go is if I stay in the car, good enough for me. J and I both get in his car. "J, I need clothes," I insisted. "You have clothes," he replied keeping his eyes on the road. "More feminine clothes," I didn't want to look like a slob all the time. "Fine, what size?" I tell him a size medium with a big smile on my face. "Do your parents live around this town?" He asks, desperately wanting to know for his sake. "No, we live about a half hour from here," I look down and hear him speak again. "THEY live about a half hour from here. YOU live with me now, Emily." I wanted to cry again but I knew I shouldn't. I keep my feelings inside.

After a long morning of getting breakfast and buying clothes, it'd been 1 o'clock. I haven't even ate the breakfast yet because we took it as a take out order. But I do have to say, J did a very good job at picking out some clothes. We got out of the car and back into J's house. I quickly grab the food and run to the kitchen because the last thing I ate were strawberries... yesterday. I scarfed down my half of the break fast and left the other half for J, who came down minutes after I ate. "You ate that already?" He asks. I nod shyly for being such a pig. He doesn't seem bothered by it but continues eating his half in peace. I hear a pounding on the door, "I'll get it," I insist. "No!" J rushes up and tells me to stay in the kitchen. He runs to the door, and opens it. "Nice to see you again," J speaks to the other voice. I peek in the doorway of the kitchen. Who is that? "Do you have the girl?" The other voice speaks with a boston accent. Tattoos covering every inch of his body. The girl? Me...?