⭐️His Secret

7: Lucy

He had gotten in the shower with me earlier, and said how we were going to be together forever. I lay on my bed now, wondering how the hell I'm going to get out of here. I don't swear ever, so that's just proving how serious I am.

As much as I hate my family, I wish more than anything that I could be with them right now. Anything would be better than this. I already feel violated. Who knows what else he will do to me.

The door is locked, I already tried that, and the windows must me glued down because they won't open either. I'm stuck here. I don't want to die here. I know I will eventually die, everyone does, but I refuse to die here.

———

I was in there for another hour before he opened the door. He came in and sat next to me on the bed. He didn't touch me, and I was thankful for that.

I looked at him, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall, and succeeded because I had to. He will not see me cry.

"Hey, baby," he said. He smiled at me and I must admit, if he wasn't my kidnapper, I might a have a crush on him. His green eyes stood out with a shimmer, and I felt the need to touch his cheek, but I didn't.

"Hi, Tommy." I said back. I smiled but I'm sure it didn't reach my eyes. He probably couldn't tell, anyways.

"How are you?" He asked.

I thought about telling the truth, hoping he would take pity on me and let me go, but thought better if it and just said, "I'm fine, how are you?"

"I am well. Would you like something to eat?" I nodded in response and followed him into the kitchen. I sat that the table, waiting patiently for my food and thought, what if he poisoned it?, but he wouldn't do that, no, not when he treats me like his girlfriend.

He sat a plate down in front of me, eggs an bacon, with a cup of milk on the side. But I don't eat meat. I usually don't even eat, but I'm not talking about that right now.

"Um, Tommy?" I said nervously, "I don't eat meat."

He nodded in understanding, sitting next to me and whispering in my ear, "You do now," with a giggle— yes, a giggle— and then said, "You are too skinny anyways. You must eat."

"But Tommy—" he cut me off.

"Eat or I will make you. Do you not remember what I said about not talking back?" I nodded an picked up the bacon, not feeling hungry at all, and bit it, grimacing. It want because it tasted bad,—it was amazing if you must know— it was because it was from him. I didn't want anything from him except for him to take me home.

But I guess we don't always get what we want.