Captured (Jeff the Killer)

I Want To Try For Her

~Charlie~ 

"It's so hard--to lose the one you love; to finally have to say goodbye.

You try to be strong, but the pain keeps holdin' on; and all that you can do, is cry. 

Deep within your heart you know it's time to move on, when the fairy tale that you once knew is gone."

I quickly look around to see where the sound is coming from, when I notice I have my headphones in and that I'm in my own bed... at home. When The Last Teardrop Falls by Blaque. Memories of yesterday's fight with Jeff start flashing through my mind, my eyes tauntingly watering, trying to make me cry. And with success, a tear streams down my cheek, another one following in suit. I shake my head quickly and look down and notice that I'm in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Mom must have changed me. I think to myself, putting my hair up into a bun with a hair tie that was around my wrist. 

I walk over to my drawer and pull out a pair of sunglasses to hide how puffy my eyes are. I start looking at my reflection in the mirror, my background changing to Jeff's room, Jeff sitting up in the bed smiling at me. I slowly move my finger to the mirror, tracing where Jeff is sitting, only for his figure to disappear. I turn around quickly and see that he's gone. I sigh and let another tear fall, grabbing my half charged phone and walking downstairs, seeing that mom and dad are off at work. 

I start looking around the house, forgetting all of the details that were here since I've been with Jeff for so long. I manage to make my way into the kitchen and see that all of the dishes are dirty. I sigh and press shuffle on my phone while plugging it into a speaker, not caring that Jacob is upstairs and most likely sleeping. I turn the radio up all the way, causing the dishes to rattle a little. I shake my head and start them, ready to make breakfast... hopefully. 

I start to sing along to Amy Pearson's song Tell Me since it's one of my favorites and that it reminds me of Jeff. "Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me. Say that you love me, and heal me tonight. 'Cause I am wounded; my heart is bleeding. Stop this aching, and heal me tonight. Tonight." I watch as another tear falls from my face and into the hot water where my hands are located. 

"Listen sis, I don't know what happened between you and Jeff or whatever, but just know that you're going to get over it eventually. I've gotten over all of my relationship problems and everything." Jacob says from behind me, a small smile gracing my extremely pale face. "Thanks for trying to cheer me up Jacob... But, Jeff and I weren't really in a relationship... I don't think. It's a long story." I sigh, washing a kitchen knife. How ironic... 

As I go to dry the utensil, I end up cutting my finger, causing me to drop the knife on the floor. "Ouch." I hiss, running my finger under the cool water. "Cut yourself I see? At least it was the last dish." Jacob chides, picking it up and look at the side confused. "What?" I ask, wanting to know what he's staring at. "Since when did mom and dad get things engraved?" he asks, looking up at me curiously. I quickly grab the knife and look at what he's talking about. 'Sometimes the demons win'. 

I feel my eyes widen and my hands start to shake as I stare down at the blade. "What's wrong Charlie? Are you okay?" Jacob asks, suddenly taking way to much care into me. "This is Jeff's knife..." I whisper, setting it down carefully. "What do you mean? Jeff has his knife." Jacob laughs, before looking at my serious face. "I'm not kidding. That's Jeff's knife... If this is Jeff's knife, what knife is he using?" I whisper, knowing that Jeff's original knife is the one he's used to kill his family and the majority of his victims with; plus it brings him good luck. 

"Woah really? You mean this is the knife that a really popular killer used?" Jacob freaks, grabbing it and throwing it into the wall, trying it out. "Don't fucking do that!" I shout, running over to the knife and pulling it out of the wall like a professional. "Why are you so protective over it? And how do you know how to pull it out like that?" "I lived with a killer. The owner of said knife. Not to mention, if anything happens to his knife, he'll literately kill me."