Stockholm Syndrome | H.S. |

Fourteen

Desiree thinks about that night. That night she practically begged Harry to take her virginity. She didn't think he knew that though but the way he was being gentle with her she thought maybe he actually did.

Desiree wanted to get out of this interrogation. She hated the confinement. All she really wanted though, was those tacos and Sprite. She hasn't ate in a while now.

***

September 22 4:14 am

Desiree's POV

"What now Harry? You've killed everyone I ever loved! Why don't you kill me next!"

"Don't speak like that! I love you!"

"Kill me!!" I screech. "I don't want to live on this earth anymore! Kill me!!" I fall to the floor in hysterics. "God Harry kill me!" I whisper. He takes me in his arms and I cry into his chest. I push him away. "I don't want your affection!" I stand and walk up the stairs to the same room I've been in for god knows how long.

I slam the door closed and face plant on the bed, the ever so soft bed. The only thing that makes this place feel normal.

I groan into the sheets. Why?! Whyyyyy?!

He's killed my parents! My best friend! Theirs no one left for me! No one!

I hear a knock on the door.

"Go away Harry. I don't feel like talking right now."

I hear the door creak open and I roll my eyes. I almost forget how persistant he is when he wants to make me happy. You can't make me happy. Not after being a murderer.

The bed dips next to me. I make it my mission to not look at him. Whenever I look at him I start to feel guilty for yelling at him.

"Desi, baby I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

"Harry how can I forgive you? You murdered my family and my best friend. Unless you can bring them back I can't forgive you."

"I-I don't want to hurt you. I want you to be happy. Please be happy," he pleads.

"I just can't be happy. I'm hurting. Killing the people I care about does not help at all. It didn't help me grow more fond of you or love you even more. If anything it made me hate you, despise you," I tell him in truth.

He forcefully rolls me over and climbs onto of me. Wrapping his soft hands around my neck and squeezing.

"You wanted to die! So here you go!" he yells at me.

I hit his hands repeatedly trying to make him stop as I feel my air intake becoming smaller. My mouth opens and closes trying to get more air, but it's no good.

"Ha-" is all I manage to mutter. My eyes roll to the back of my head and the pressure on my neck lessens. Air floods into my lungs causing me to cough.

I cough so much I heave but nothing comes out. He watches me with a blank expression.

"I'm sorry," I tell him but my voice is rough and raspy. It didn't even sound like my own.

He gets off of me and rummages through a drawer. He pulls out handcuffs.

"Har-" I swallow trying to gain my voice back. "I don't-"

He ignores me as he handcuffs my wrist to the bed post. I sit there and watch him rush out the room angry.

I sigh.

I've messed up really bad. I was just mad that he thinks everything can go to normal. They can't.

I try to get some sleep. It's pretty late. Soon enough the sun is going to come up.

(A/N: this is just a filler chapter to move everything a long. Hope you love this story. Don't forget to vote and comment)