Relations on Canvas

Chapter Twelve.

Day 1.

This couldn't be happening.

It was a reality I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge. I wouldn't accept one where the kid who I had grown up with since birth was now a maniac. The same kid who'd braid my hair with flowers, and cover my medication in powdered sugar so I wouldn't taste the bitterness. Now had grabbed my hair, covered my mouth and dragged me into a basement to rot.

He had to see at least some familiarity in me. Even if Elia didn't know I was Monet... and I was horrified that that would be my downfall.

.    .    .

Leaning against the stairs, I hadn't slept for even a minute as I listened for anyone. My eyes stung more than they ever had, and each time I tried to say even a word, my voice proved to have left me. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, the sight of his ax falling against Lancelot's skull plagued my mind in graphic visuals. And just remembering how Elia had looked at me sent painful shivers down my back.

    I didn't want any of this. For the first time I fell in love, the first time I had ever kissed someone, the first time I was told I love you. This is what I got. Yet as my head sank against the wooden steps, I looked up at the trap door above me, a line of sun projecting against my face. It was morning...

I had very little faith in anything at this point, but I did the best I could to press my palms against the door, my body going still when it was loose...

It didn't feel unlocked, but certainly not well shut. And knowing the force it would take to get it open would have to be loud had me leaning back, processing how fast I could be... Just to the street... It was morning... someone would see me.

I just needed to pass his hallway- I couldn't be upstairs, it wouldn't make sense. But how fast he could get down was the concern.

    He said he wouldn't hurt me... But how he had grabbed me implied otherwise... Elia wouldn't hurt me, but whoever that was last night, I wasn't so sure. And as I leaned up, I pressed my back to the door. One try. I had one try. Straight to the door. Even if my voice was dim, if only one person heard me it was all that mattered...

    My shoulder ached the second after the impact, but I didn't think about it as I swung the trapdoor back, the sudden light, even if it was dim in the early morning, had me momentarily disoriented. But I wasted no time as my heels pushed off the floor, moving into a run before to my horror, Elia quickly moved out from the kitchen, blocking me from the front door.

I couldn't focus... A million thoughts of what to do ran through my head, and before he could say a thing, I turned sharply. Panic built in my chest under each fast pace I made up the stairs, and I could feel my breath growing short when the sound of his running footsteps were close behind.

He had a phone in his bedroom. I was making every decision as I ran. And as I reached the top of the staircase, I didn't let myself catch my breath before darting into his room, the door slamming behind me right as I could feel Elia's hand reaching out.

    There was no lock... And when I knew he could surely get in if it were just me leaning against it, I pulled a chain under the handle, his words a blur in my mind as my hands began to shake. I was too tired for this. My eyes couldn't even stay open as I found as much manageable furniture as humanly possible to barricade the door, rushing across the room and finding the landline by the window.

"Mary, open the door, please. Open the goddamn door." I froze at not only the sound of his voice rising, but the aggressive banging against the door, but when it fell silent, I began to dial the police with trembling fingers, "Mary... please. Open the door. I don't want to scare you."

I tried my best to ignore him, but his voice alone had me in tears... He sounded bipolar. And I was just supposed to trust that he wouldn't hurt me? My finger slipped up on the two, and I cursed under my breath, picking up the phone and moving so I wasn't directly across from the door as I tried again. "I don't want- If you just let me go! I don't want to do this!" My voice cracked so aggressively that I was worried I'd lost the rest of it. Why was I hesitating!?

"Mary, just open the door. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. I just need some time, alright? Just open the door." I couldn't trust anything he said. And as the phone began to dial, I paced to the bathroom, the sudden voice of a dispatcher bringing overwhelming relief to my chest.

"Yes- yes! Hello!? I live at-," I froze, staring back at the cord that had come unplugged by the side of his bed. No. I flinched at each sound of Elia getting closer to opening the door as I sprinted to the outlet, leaning under the bed frame to find the stupid socket, the door, thrashing on its hinges as I did.

There wasn't a single chance that he wasn't capable of hurting me... And right as I plugged the phone in, sitting up to dial the number again, the sound of the door falling had me paralyzed. And I quickly held the phone to my ear once more as he proved how easy it was to get past his desk blocking the entrance.

In horror, I watched as he grabbed a hold of the cord, not only pulling it from my ear, but ripping it from the wall with so much force it tore. And as he stared down at me with heavy breathing, there was nothing kind in his eyes...

    Taking my wrists, I thrashed away to no avail, falling forward against my knees before he picked me up, holding me tightly enough it almost hurt even while I struggled in his arms, tears blurring my vision as I protested to my fullest extent. "There's no point, Mary. I don't want to hurt you so don't struggle, please." Elia walked back to the door, and I stared in horror as he kicked it open, letting my feet fall onto the first step.

    "I'm not going back down there! LET ME GO!" I panicked, the images of Lancelot's body laying in blood and stiffness traumatizing my head. And as I twisted my wrists free from his grasp, I took a step back to avoid Elia grabbing me again.

One step. That's all it was. One step, and I lost my footing.

The last thing that flashed in my vision was his hands outstretched to me, my shirt tearing under his abrupt grip... I thought it couldn't get worse.

.     .    .

It felt like only a blink. But as my eyes opened, I cried out in pain against the cold ground, not knowing where the pain was coming from as it spread across my entire body. But as I moved my arms to wrap around myself, the sharp and aggressive burning sensation had me screaming out till my voice rasped. 

    I knew Elia was beside me, but everything he said went unclear as I choked on saliva, throwing my head back as I failed to steady my breathing. All I could do was repeat how much it hurt. And when my eyes found the stairs above me, I grew nauseous at the distance I'd fallen. When I felt Elia move my arm, the speed I nearly ran out of breath had him moving away. But when I felt him lift me, I had no grounds to object, only crying as he rushed up each flight of stairs till his bedroom.

    My head fell to the side as I was laid on the bed, and I could barely see him as he began to pace back and forth, his hands frantically running through his hair. But when he left for the bathroom and quickly returned with bandages, I tried my best to move away from him, panting into the sheets when I could no longer move my arm.

    His apologies were endless as he raised it, and I fought back unconsciousness from the pain while he wrapped my arm in what I could only imagine to be a brace, leaving right after.

And I was left alone... feeling nothing but panic as I tried to look down at my arm, nearling gagging at the sight of seeing the swell. It wasn't his fault... I couldn't find a way to convince myself it was. He had forced me here, yes. He had killed a man and locked me away... But I took that step.

    And as Elia rushed back into the room, he set an ice pack to my arm, clearly just as distressed as I leaned back sobbing like a child.

    I hated that I wanted his comfort. But it wasn't him. I didn't know if it had been for years. He didn't want this to happen... It was clear on his face. But as I struggled to breathe, I couldn't say anything to him...