Captivated

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

My eyes fly open and I gasp for air. I'm surrounded by darkness, apart from the tiny night-light in the corner. I take a few deep breaths and try to calm myself. It's then that I notice my palms are stinging. I bring my hands close to my face and squint my eyes. Once they adjust to the darkness I realize that my palms are covered in deep red marks. Nail marks from clenching my fists so tightly.

Another nightmare, yet again. But this one was much worse than any prior ones. I was back at home with my mother and father. We were sitting in our living room watching a movie together. All of a sudden there was a knock at the door. I found this odd because it was late at night, and no one usually comes to the door that late. My father stood up to answer the door. My mother and I focused on the movie. And then I heard it; gun shots. A dark figure came into the living room and shot my mother. I was trying to scream but I couldn't. Nothing would come out no matter how hard I tried. The figure put his finger to his lips and whispered 'shhh'. I stood up and tried to run but my legs wouldn't let me. I was running on the spot, infinitely trapped. I turned around and the figure was right behind me. And then I watched as they lifted off their hood. The figure was Avery. And that's when I woke up, panicking, out of breath.

I sit up in my bed trying to take in all that just happened in my mind. And then I feel the warm tears as they begin streaming down my face. I'm so scared and confused, and I still feel sick. I can't handle this right now.

__

I don't fall back asleep. I am too afraid of what lurks in my dreams, so I force myself to stay awake and stare at the ceiling. The tiny night light in the wall flickers, allowing bits of light to fill the room for a few moments, then dies out again.

Dane comes down eventually and brings me breakfast. I'm not even hungry; in fact, I feel sick to my stomach. I must have been lying there for three or four hours just trying not to fall asleep. And quite frankly I'm exhausted. It's a difficult thing fighting every urge your body is giving you. I tell Dane that I can't eat right now, so he leaves the porridge on the floor beside my bed. He fetches me some water, another cold cloth, and brings in another bucket just in case I'm sick. He tells me he has to go to work but he hopes I feel better. I thank him and he leaves. Now I wait until Avery makes his way down.

It takes him a couple of hours but finally he comes. His visits make my day, especially when I'm feeling like this. I manage to stomach some of the porridge without throwing up. I think drinking the water helped. Avery talks to me in a soothing voice and it makes me miss home. I miss when my mother used to tuck me in at night and tell me that everything would be okay. She'd kiss me on the forehead and I'd smell the fresh scent of vanilla. She always smelt like vanilla. And she always made me feel better. It's now that I miss her more than ever.

"Are you feeling any better? Even just a little bit?" he asks.
"I guess. Well, not really. But better than yesterday."
"It will run its course."
"Yeah."
"So," he starts again. "Christmas is coming up,"
"I'm aware, Avery. It's just another reminder of how I'm trapped here." I know he's trying to make me feel better but all he's doing is making things worse.
He looks apologetic. "Sorry. I was just trying to change the subject,"
"It's alright,"
"What's your favourite holiday?"
"Not Christmas,"
"Why?" he asks. I shrug. "What do you like then? Easter, Valentine's Day?"
"Ew, no," I laugh. "Valentine's Day is just a sorry excuse for industries to make even more money and for couples to get each other gifts that they probably can't afford."
"So you're not a romantic I'm guessing,"
"Not really... I mean, don't get me wrong, I love love. But celebrating it? Unnecessary."
"So what did you and Colby do on Valentine's Day?"
"We um..." I think about this. "I think we just hung out. Did regular stuff. We tried not to make it a big deal. Although he'd always bring me flowers and chocolate." I smile as I remember my Valentine's Days spent with Colby. Cuddled up on the couch watching movies and spoon feeding each other ice cream. I told him I didn't want anything but he'd always show up to my door with a big bouquet of flowers and chocolates. Then I'd feel bad because I didn't get him anything. But he told me he didn't care – that I was the only gift he needed. "I like Halloween," I say. "Because... chocolate."
"Valentine's Day has chocolate. And so does Easter. And Christmas," he pauses. "Come to think of it, all holidays have chocolate. So it's a win-win either way,"
"That is true,"
Silence. "I started reading a new book," he tells me.
"Oh yeah? Which one?"
"It's called Little Infinities by Jude Taylor."
"What's it about?"
"Well," he says. "The protagonist is this guy named William. And he falls in love with this girl Savannah. And he wants to be with her but she has a lot of issues. She was in a car accident with her family and she was the only survivor. She suffers from severe PTSD. She loves William but she just doesn't know how to express herself,"
"So what happens? Do they end up together? Do they all die?"
He laughs. "I haven't read that far yet. But I'm not going to spoil it for you. You can read it yourself,"
"One of them will die. I'm calling it."
"Why are you so cynical?"
"I'm not. I'm just saying, death makes a good story."
"Says who?"
"Uh, a lot of people? What are the most famous love stories of all time?"
"Um,"
"Titanic. The Notebook. Romeo and Juliet, just to name a few. Jack dies, Ally and Noah die, and Romeo and Juliet both die. They were young and stupid. But still. You see my point?"
He laughs. "You're crazy,"
"Whatever. You know I'm right," I smirk. He stretches out his arms and yawns. "Are you tired?" I ask.
"A little,"
"Did you not get any sleep last night?"
"Not really. I couldn't fall asleep."
"Oh. Do you have that problem often?"
"Sort of. I think I'm a slight insomniac."
"Me too,"
"Really?"
"Sometimes. I also have terrible nightmares. Well, since being here."
Silence. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.
I sigh. "It's just those dreams where you can't run or scream. You're trapped. And then I wake up, and I'm still trapped."
"I'm sorry," he says. I don't respond. I hate when he says sorry. "When's your birthday?" he asks.
"January 20th. Why?"
"Aquarius." He remarks. "Just wondering,"
"You know the star signs?"
"Doesn't everybody?"
"No."
"You don't know the star signs?"
"No. All I know is that I'm an Aquarius. I don't know anything else."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. When's your birthday?"
"June 14th."
"So what is that; Cancer? Scorpio?"
"Gemini," he laughs.
"Oh."
"You should really learn those."
"Why? It doesn't benefit me in any way,"
He laughs. "Okay Reign." Then he pauses. "Hey, is that why you're named Reign? Because Aquarius is a water carrier,"
"I'm not named after the weather," I say for what feels like the millionth time.
"Oh. What are you named after then?"
"I don't want to get into it,"
"Oh. Okay.
"Rain rain go away," I mimic.
"People said that to you?"
"Yep."
"Oh. That sucks."
"Yeah. Whatever though, I like my name now."
"That's good."
"What are you named after?"
"I'm not sure. My parents never said,"
"Avery," I say. "Odd name."
"Thanks," he laughs. "You're moody when you're sick, you know that?"
"No," I say. "I'm moody when I'm moody."
"Why are you moody?"
"Because I'm locked in a fucking basement and I'm sick."
Silence again. "Okay." he pauses. "I think Dane and I are going to cut down a tree this week."
"What day is it?"
"December 16th."
"Wow, already?"
"Yeah."
"Why do you guys get a tree?"
"To celebrate Christmas..? Isn't that what most people do?"
"Yeah but, I just didn't know... it's just weird, that's all."
"What? You think because he kills people that he doesn't celebrate Christmas?" I don't answer. He laughs. "Nope, we still celebrate Christmas."
"Oh. Okay."
"Did your family have any special traditions?"
"Yeah. A few." I saw meekly, fiddling with my fingers. He can tell that I'm sad. I don't want to talk about Christmas. "Don't worry," he says and places his hand on top of mine. "We can make our own traditions."