Charlie's Web

Charlie

There was no more knocking. So I sat in the corner like a scared animal, cowering. Towels and soaps had been thrown around, and drawers had been rummaged through. There was nothing, nothing I could use as a weapon. I was truly trapped here. No one was coming to save me, and he was so smart. Earlier when he'd sliced me a piece of that chicken pot pie, he'd pulled the knife out of a locked drawer. It was obvious he'd been planning this kidnapping for years, but why? So he could date me? Was he that fucking delusional? The guy was not in high school, I mean he had a house. My stomach lurched. Was he going to make me into some kind of sex slave?

My tears had dried long ago, though I had no concept of how much time had passed as I sat there. It didn't seem like asking him to let me go was going to work, in fact, it had the opposite effect. It enraged him. He was acting as if I had proposed a breakup. That wouldn't make any sense, considering we had never started dating in the first place, but he obviously had some kind of sick fantasy about me. He knew things about me that not even Ben or C would've known. How had I gone about my life for the past few years, not realizing that someone had been watching my every move? The thought caused a shiver to run up my spine. I felt disgusted with myself. He'd probably watched me while I slept, knowing I was completely defenseless and unaware. What a freak.

The bathroom itself was quite nice. It had blue tiled floors and white walls, and two large mirrors hung next to each other above the sink. It wasn't a small space by any means, and I'd realized earlier as I had scoured every inch of the room. He had stocked the place with all of my favorite toiletries. The shampoo and conditioner he'd provided were the kind I only got when I had worked up the nerve to attempt shoplifting. Each bottle was at least thirty-five dollars. He even knew what kind of tampons I used, and I truly didn't want to know how he found that out. Every product in the shower was catered to me, the only thing missing were any types of razors. He had thought of every possibility while planning this. It was meticulous. He was trying to make sure that I would never have the chance to escape.

Maybe, just maybe, if I could earn his trust, he would slowly give me more privileges around the house. If I played along with his sick twisted fantasies, I could get out of here. My heart palpated in my chest as ideas flooded my mind. I would cozy up to him, make him think I would never even dream of leaving. Then I'll offer to cook dinner for him, make it romantic, make it seem like I'm falling for this insanity. He'll have to give me access to the knife drawer, and then, when his guard is down, I'll carry out my attack. If he ended up dead, so be it, I would be getting out regardless.

A loud knock pulled my attention to the door.

"Can we talk?" His voice was stifled as it traveled through the wall, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Just come out and we'll talk, please."

This was my chance to start gaining his trust. My legs wobbled and shook as I stood, my whole body felt clammy and numb as if my muscles hadn't been used in weeks. I stood frozen at the door. A sense of dread loomed over me, causing my stomach to sink. I never wanted to face this man, yet here I was going to have a conversation with him like this was normal. Like we were just a couple in an argument.

There was no other option. If I was going to get out of here, this was the only way. I kept repeating that sentiment in my head, hyping myself up as my shaky hands reached the doorknob. I fiddled with the lock, my heartbeat was so rapid, that the rhythmic sound filled my ears, causing my head to pound. After stalling for a few more minutes, my fingers slowly turned the lock, getting rid of the only protection I had from the psychopath that was currently holding me captive.

Immediately, the door swung open. I jumped back and gasped as he rushed towards me, enveloping me in a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh, baby. I'm so sorry for scaring you," his voice quivered as he spoke, the words were faint as he buried his head in the crook of my neck. I had no time to react as he pulled away and began to attack my lips. His mouth moved against mine aggressively as my lips stayed tightly pressed together. Tears sprang to my eyes as his large hands found my waist, their grip tightened into my flesh causing me to gasp in pain.

"Stop, please stop," his lips moving against mine muffled my desperate pleading, still I continued to struggle against him. His touch felt needy and wrong against my flesh, his hands squeezed me against him, knocking all of the air out of my lungs. I let my body go limp against the wall as he pulled away. His breathing was heavy and his dark eyes were distant. He stood there for a moment, his hands on either side of me still, prompting me to press myself further to the wall. Neither one of us uttered a word as we made eye contact. It was frightening, watching as a full range of emotions flashed over his face.

What did he see when he looked at mine? Could he see my despair and fear? Did he even notice how terrified I was?

"Oh, Charlie. I-I'm so sorry," he brought his hand up to my face, gently wiping away the tears that stained my cheeks. "God, you drive me so fucking crazy," his lips tugged into a lopsided grin as he dragged his fingers down my cheek.

"Please stop touching me," the quiet words fell quickly from my mouth as I jerked my head away from him. That damned pout replaced his smile as if I'd just scolded him for leaving the toilet seat up. Still, he took a few steps back, allowing the breath to return to my burning lungs.

"F-fuck, I'm sorry Charlie," he ran his hands through his messy hair, a look of remorse apparent on his thin face. The whole interaction had given me whiplash. It was like he had multiple personalities, and even Vivian never acted that crazy, which was saying something. "Let's go back to our room, okay?" Ugh, "our" room. Blegh. He reached forward to grab my hand, making sure to keep a tight grip. I followed behind him as he left the bathroom, knowing that he wasn't about to let me go anyway. I continued to mull over my options as we sat on the bed. Every single conversation we'd had up to this point had not exactly been...constructive. I needed to hear him out, or at the very least pretend to.

"Charlie," he let out a deep sigh and laid his hand over mine. "I know that this is still so confusing for you, sweetie, but you can't keep misbehaving. I love you so much, and of course, I'll always give you grace, but I don't want to hear one more word about you leaving. This is your home now, you belong here, with me. We're in a relationship, and I won't let you ruin it before it's even started," his tone shifted from light to somewhat harsh as he continued to lecture me. "The sooner you accept that this is what's best, the happier you'll be, I promise. I know what's best for you, sweetie," I cringed at the pet name as tears pricked at my eyes. This man was insane. He really thought we were dating. My face burned red in shame as I thought back to just a few moments ago when he'd forced his lips on mine. The feeling of his disgusting, grubby hands on my body made me feel nauseous. There was no way I could allow him to touch me like that again.

"I'm sorry," I looked down and picked at my fingernails as if I were a scolded child, "I'll be better, it's just... this is all so new." His face seemed to brighten slightly at my words. He just needed hope. Hope that I would come around eventually, that we could be the happy couple that he'd always dreamed of. He was fond of me, and I needed to use that to my advantage. I had to convince him that I had fallen for him.

"I'm so glad to hear you say that," he let out a deep sigh of relief, "You have no idea how excited I am to start our new lives together. Once spring comes we can go on hikes and if you want I could help you start a garden. We could grow our own produce, and I'll cook for you every single day if you want. I've got tons of books for you, too! Even some from your collection," his voice was fast and animated as he spoke. His eyes held such a look of admiration, it made me sick. I felt hot and faint as he continued his psychotic ramblings. Nothing he said made sense. It was like we were living in two completely different realities. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. There was no point in getting worked up again. Letting my emotions get out of hand would not help me escape, I needed to stay level-headed.

"That sounds amazing," I said, not entirely sure how to respond to his delusional fantasies. He smiled and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling my stiff body onto his lap. His arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, making sure there was not even an inch of space between us. I almost broke down as his nose brushed my ear, I could hear him inhaling deeply, savoring my scent. A shiver ran up my spine, causing me to shake.

"You're so sweet," he spoke softly into my ear, "My sweet girl." He began to rock me back and forth in his arms, probably thinking it would comfort me. If only he knew how I truly felt, how much his touch repulsed me. I sat like a doll in his arms, trying to drown out his voice with my thoughts. I tried to imagine that I was with Ben and Caroline instead, their voices rang so clear in my mind. I could only hope that one day we would be reunited.