Our Lives feel so new

Ticking by

Tamara awoke with a start, her heart pounding as she instinctively tried to move, only to find her wrists and ankles tightly bound to the chair. Her mouth was dry, her body stiff from sitting in the same position for what felt like hours. As the memories of the previous night came flooding back being forcibly pulled out of the car, dragged into this room, and tied up she felt a wave of panic rising in her chest. Her eyes darted around the dimly lit space, taking in the concrete walls, the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling, and the small, grimy window high up on one wall that allowed in only a sliver of light.

It was then that Tamara noticed Rosemary sitting across from her, watching her with an unsettling calmness. Rosemary was the last person Tamara had expected to see in this situation. They had met at the academy, where Rosemary had always seemed quiet and reserved. Tamara had thought of her as a casual acquaintance, perhaps even a friend. But the look in Rosemary's eyes now was something entirely different intense and unreadable. As if sensing Tamara's rising panic, Rosemary stood up and approached her, a strange, almost tender expression on her face.

"Good morning, Tamara," Rosemary said softly, her voice devoid of the usual pleasantries. "I know this is all very overwhelming, but I need you to stay calm. I did this because I love you."

The words sent a chill down Tamara's spine. Love? How could this be love? She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but the fear and the shock rendered her silent. She watched as Rosemary crouched down in front of her, her expression shifting from soft to pleading. "I know you don't understand right now," Rosemary continued, "but I've been watching you for so long. I've seen how lost you feel, how people take advantage of your kindness. I can protect you from all that, Tamara. Here, no one can hurt you. Only I can."

Tamara struggled against the ropes, the coarse material biting into her skin. "This isn't protection," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with anger and fear. "This is kidnapping. You're hurting me, Rosemary. This isn't right."

Rosemary's expression hardened. "No, you're wrong," she said, her voice taking on a steely edge. "I'm the only one who truly cares about you. Everyone else... they just want to use you. But not me. I would do anything for you." She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Tamara's face, her touch lingering in a way that made Tamara shudder. "You'll see," she murmured, almost to herself. "In time, you'll understand."

The day dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. Rosemary kept a close watch on Tamara, only leaving the room occasionally to fetch food or water. Tamara's attempts to reason with her captor were met with a chilling mix of affection and firmness, as if Rosemary truly believed she was doing the right thing. At one point, Rosemary left the room and returned with a tray of food simple sandwiches and a bottle of water. She untied Tamara's hands just enough to let her eat, but the bindings on her legs remained secure.

Tamara considered refusing the food, but the hunger gnawing at her stomach was too strong. She ate slowly, trying to gather her thoughts and think of a way to escape. But the window was too high, the door too solid, and Rosemary too vigilant. She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, a mix of frustration, fear, and despair. How had this happened? How had she ended up in this nightmare?

As the day wore on, the atmosphere in the room grew increasingly tense. Rosemary seemed content to sit in silence, occasionally breaking it with soft, almost wistful comments about their "future together." Tamara couldn't bear it. Every word felt like a twisted knife, reminding her of the reality of her situation that she was trapped with someone who had crossed the line from infatuation to obsession.

When the afternoon sunlight began to fade, Rosemary stood up and walked over to Tamara, holding a small box in her hands. "I have something for you," she said, her voice oddly gentle. She opened the box to reveal a silver necklace with a delicate heart-shaped pendant. "I bought this for you a long time ago," she explained, her eyes fixed on the necklace. "I was waiting for the right moment to give it to you. I thought... maybe it could be a symbol of our new beginning."

Tamara stared at the necklace, a lump forming in her throat. "You can't be serious," she whispered, shaking her head. "This isn't a new beginning, Rosemary. This is a nightmare. Please, let me go. We can forget this ever happened."

Rosemary's eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, Tamara feared she had pushed too far. But then the anger faded, replaced by a look of deep sadness. "I can't do that, Tamara," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't understand yet, but you will. I'm the only one who can keep you safe." She placed the necklace back in the box and set it aside, then gently re-tied Tamara's hands.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur for Tamara. The fear and confusion had drained her, leaving her feeling numb and exhausted. She listened to the sounds of the house the creak of the floorboards, the distant hum of the refrigerator, the occasional rustle of leaves outside. All the while, Rosemary sat nearby, her eyes never leaving Tamara's face. It was as if she was waiting for something, though Tamara couldn't imagine what.

As night fell, Rosemary brought in a blanket and draped it over Tamara's shoulders. "You should get some rest," she said softly. "It's been a long day." Tamara wanted to protest, to fight back, but her body betrayed her, the exhaustion overwhelming her senses. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the reality of her situation, but sleep was elusive. Her mind raced with thoughts of escape, of how to reach out for help, of how to survive this nightmare.