Stockholm Syndrome | H.S. |

Eight

"Did it ever occur to you that your faking turned into something more?"

Desiree knew this question was coming, she just didn't know how she would answer it.

"Everything I did in those 5 months were simply to help keep myself alive," she answers Jamie's question.

***

August 4 4:27 pm

Harry's POV

I watch as she laughs at my lame joke. I know they're lame but I can't help but tell them especially if I could hear that beautiful laugh.

Kill her. She's obviously fake laughing at your stupid jokes.

She loves his jokes. Leave him alone.

"Wanna hear another one?" I ask her. She nods. She's sitting criss cross in front of me and I, her. "Okay so knock knock."

"Who's there?" she smiles.

"A cow goes," I say stiffling a laugh.

"A cow goes who?"

"No silly a cow goes moo," I chuckle.

She giggles and shakes her head.

"Harry you're too funny."

I smile at her and look down into my lap.

"I love you," I tell her looking up into her eyes.

You're an idiot for falling in love with her.

She loves me she said it herself.

She's a liar and a bad one at that. How can you not see it?

"I love you too," she tells me. Suddenly a wave of angriness washes over me and I slap her.

"LIAR!"

There you go! Get angry! Get mad!

"I'm not lying Harry."

She's such a horrible liar. I'm surprised you haven't killed her yet.

Leave her alone Harry! She hasn't done anything! Don't let your anger get the best of you.

Slap her again!

I bring my hand up and slap her again.

Tears well up in her eyes as she looks at me with shock.

"Harry..."

Punch her.

I ball my fist up and obey the voice. Her nose starts gushing blood and I realize what I'm doing.

"Oh god Desiree!" I yell and try to touch her. She tries to move away but her chained feet stop her.

"Don't touch me," she tells me pinching the bridge of her nose trying to stop the bleeding.

"I-I didn't mean it. I promise," I tell her desperately. "Don't be mad at me," I plead.

She gives me a death glare.

Told you she was faking it.

Harry it's only because you hit her. She loves you.

I tug at my hair like I always do when I'm conflicted.

"Harry stop." I continue without realizing she called me out on it. "HARRY!" she yells and places her bloody hand around my wrist stopping me.

I stare at her.

Don't do it Harry. If you do it you won't have nothing to live for.

Do it Harry. Then kill yourself. You know you want to.

I shut my eyes.

"Go away!" I scream at my voices.

But we can't go away Harry.

"I don't want you here!"

"Harry what's the matter?" Desiree questions still pinching her nose. I watch where the blood lands. All on her and some on the bed.

Clean it up! Now!

I get off the bed and walk out to my car grabbing the cleaning supplies from my trunk.

I head back inside.

"Get off the bed!" I order her.

She gets off well as much as you can when you're chained to the bed posts.

I scrub and scrub trying to get rid of the blood stain.

Her shirt. That's bloody too Harry.

I look at Desiree and throw the sponge down.

I walk to her and force the gown off of her. She's still wearing the same bra and underwear from the night I took her. She looks uncomfortable as she tries to cover herself up. I peel my Teenage Runaway sweater off and throw it at her.

Coward. You don't get to be nice to her!

You did the right thing Harry.

I continue scrubbing for the rest of the night.