He woke up with a dull aching in his side. It had been bandaged, but it was probably infected. Green hadn't cared to use alcohol or a disinfectant on it. Of course he hadn't. Green was stupid, in more ways than one.
Purple sat up, he had a headache too. When was the last time he'd had a drink? He was dehydrated.
After using the restroom and cleaning himself up, he walked downstairs. He didn't see the other, but he wasn't sure where he could be. So Purple didn't bother to try and escape. But he did briefly look at the front door. The hairpin was still tucked by it. Good. He'd have to use it somehow later.
Purple poured himself a glass of water. He could try and find the knives, but once Purple took a glance, he noticed all the cabinets were locked. God dammit, Green!
Purple sniffed at the water, just a precaution, to make sure Green hadn't drugged it or something, and then he chugged it down, letting out a satisfied sigh when he finished. He let it clatter in the sink. Like hell he was doing dishes for Green.
Purple sat down on the couch, turned on the television. Boring stuff. He switched channels several times until he came across a News Channel. Purple saw his own picture.
'Nineteen year-old Purple is reported missing. He'd been gone for four days, and all search attempts have been vain so far. We come to you with a quick interview with two of Purples close friends...'
It showed The Second Coming. Purple smiled, watching his friend look so worried. At least he cared. The second one was Green.
Purples smile quickly faded and he turned off the TV. He did not want to hear whatever Green had to say about him. Bastard!
Purple spent the rest of the next couple of hours pacing and sulking and trying the lock again. Eventually, Green came home, with McDonald's.
Purple huffed and snatched the food and stomped back upstairs, leaving Green downstairs, confused.
Purple sat against the bed and ate his food eagerly. He was hungry, too. Green walked in the room, tilted his head. "I have to go back out— I thought you would want some food. I see I was right." Green laughed as he grabbed a raincoat. It had just started raining.
"I'll be back later."
"Go away."
He did, not without a frown.
Purple sat in bed for a few minutes after hearing the front door shut, then he realized... his phone!
He needed to call someone. He opened his door and peered down the stairs, making sure Green did really leave, then ran back in the room and looked under the bed. He pushed away other objects hiding his phone and the charger, then yanked his phone off the charger. He made a call to the police.
"911 what's your emergency?"
Purple took a breath, what should he say?
The person over the phone sounded female, so Purple responded with, "Ma'am, my 'friend.' He hit me and knocked me out cold, and won't let me leave his house." Purple decided on that. That was okay. Right?
The lady took a moment to respond. "What's your name and age, sir?"
"Purple, nineteen. Please help."
Silence again.
"Address?"
"I... don't know. Can you trace this call?" Purple asked, desperate.
"Yes, sir. Please wait. Is your friend home?"
"No. He just went out. But he won't be long, I assume."
"Please wait. We'll send a team."
"Thank you."
He hung up.
—————
WARNING— Will not be active over the weekend. Next chapter will come out slower.
YOU ARE READING
⚠️|Truly, Deeply, Madly
Fanfiction⚠️|DISCONTINUED|⚠️ SOME mature scenes. Purple was late. It was pouring, and he missed his stop. Shit. Luckily, Green pulled up in grey truck. "Need a ride?"
