Abducted

Drunken Regrets

I wake up to a crash and then the buzz of my door opening. A leap of hope bounces in my chest as I consider the chance that someone had found me.
I pull the covers off of me and jump up to see that it's only Brandon.
A very messy uncoordinated Brandon.
A very drunk Brandon.
I gasp in fear, backing up towards my dresser. He has a goofy smile on his face and his eyes are glazed over.
He walks straight towards me with a few wobbles along the way.
"Brandon-" I begin, trying to keep my voice steady.
He kisses me right on the lips without warning. I push him away and wipe off my lips. He furrows his brows before trying to kiss me again. I block him this time easily, preventing his lips from meeting mine.
He forcefully kisses my jaw, and I begin to cry.
"Brandon, please no, please." I beg, sobbing.
He's holding my wrists with one hand above my head now.
"I love you, Crystal." He mumbles.
I rip my hands out from his grip. I hold both of his wrists, one in each hand, firmly so he faces me.
"I know, Brandon. I know that." I tell him honestly, facing him.
"I want to show you how much I love you." Brandon explains, his eyes big.
"You don't need to show me. Brandon, it's me, you know me. Think about what you're about to do. I don't want this, Brandon, you don't need to show me because I already know. You're drunk. Go sleep." I say to him in a soft but shaky voice.
He nods shakily and goes to turn away. I ruffle his hair and push him playfully towards the door.
Once he's gone, I wipe my tears and lay back in my bed. That was so close that it's scary. I cry myself to sleep, thinking about what could have happened.
     Brandon could have raped me.

     I wake up in the morning and instantly regret my life. My face is sticky but dry from all the tears I had drenched myself in last night.
    I don't want to knock on the door. I don't want to see him right now. He may have been drunk, but that doesn't change what happened last night.
     I groan and run my hands through my hair, pushing it back. I roll out of bed and go to the dresser.
     I put on a pair of joggers and a plain white tee shirt. I quickly run a brush through my hair and throw in up in a ponytail with a scrunchie. Sliding into my slippers I stand in front of the door.
     I stand there for almost ten minutes. I don't want to knock on the door. I raise my hand and put it back down again.
     I raise my hand once more, when I hear a buzz.
     I step back as the door opens in front of me. There stands Brandon, who's looking at the ground, seeming sad.
     He looks up at me, and I can see his eyes water. "Crystal..." Brandon begins, but I turn my head slightly just so that I don't have to look at him.
     "Please. I was drunk..."Brandon pleads, his crying clear in his voice.
     "I'm so sorry. I regret it so much, and I'm so so sorry. What I tried to do is terrible, I can't forgive myself..." Brandon cries before turning my head to study my expression.
     I feel empty somehow. I feel emotionless which makes me sad. My feelings, my thoughts, it's all so confusing. I'm mad, but I'm not. I'm scared and depressed, yet I'm neither. I don't understand any of it.
     "If you couldn't tell already, I have a drinking problem. I will fix it, for you. For myself." Brandon promises, holding my wrists gently.
     I nod numbly. I need someone to hold me before I fall, but I don't want it to be Brandon. Yet I do.
I feel so childish and confusing.
     Brandon pulls me into a hug but I don't hug him back. I can't see him as a monster anymore, even when I try, but that doesn't change what he did. Brandon needs to stop drinking.
     I've seen what drinking does to people, other people besides Brandon. I get an idea, knowing that he won't be able to stop alone. I'm going to do this for him.  No, for myself.
     "I'll help." I say in just above a whisper as he pulls away.
     Brandon looks completely confused, "With what?"
     "I'll help you stop drinking."
     Brandon smiles happily and thanks me before pulling me into another hug. Except this time I hug him back.
~
     I really don't know who I'm more ashamed of. Him or me. He almost raped me, a terrible action that is very close to unforgivable. If Brandon was a worse person or if he wasn't drunk at the time, it would be unforgivable. Me on the other hand, I have a terrible case of Stockholm Syndrome. I kissed him, my kidnapper for goodness sake! I must be crazy, someone needs to lock me up.
Maybe when I get out, the Stockholm Syndrome with wear off. I just need to see Noah and all.
I'm sitting at the table outside with Brandon, talking to him about his drinking.
"Why do you drink?"
"It helps me forget things and cope."
"Maybe you should try coping without forgetting. If you have any issues just talk to me and spend some time thinking."
"I don't know- I don't want to bombard you with-"
"Seriously, I don't mind." I put my hands on him arms and look into his eyes, "and it's better than the actions you make while intoxicated that you end up regretting. Those impact both me and you more."
"You're right. I'll try."
"And no more just having a beer or just having a sip. It reminds you of getting drunk. This is an addiction, you need to use your willpower to stop completely. It will take time, but you can only accomplish this with hard work and determination.
"Thanks."
Brandon hugs me tightly and I hug him back. I want to help him so badly. I pull back from the hug and look at him.
"I love you." Brandon says.
"I know." I smile at him.
"I'm sorry for being so selfish. I'm sorry for everything, really." Brandon tells me honestly.
Normally I would be excited that it seems that he's trusting me more. I would be happy that he's sorry because maybe he'll let me go. But right now this just saddens me.
Then I say something that I don't mean to mean, but I realize I mean it. That's a lot of means.
"I forgive you." I say to him in just above a whisper.
His face lights up as he embraces me and thanks me. He's so sweet, too.
      Damn, I really need to snap out of it. I'm scaring myself.
     "Stockholm syndrome..." I mutter under my breath unknowingly.
     "Huh? Do you say 'Stockholm syndrome?"
     I suddenly look like a deer caught in headlights. Did he hear that?
     "What? Um-" I stutter.
     "Crystal, you don't have Stockholm syndrome just because you're nice to me- Stockholm syndrome is different. It's when you're captured into an abusive environment and you mistake lack of abuse for kindness. I don't like to think that I abuse you." Brandon explains.
     So I don't have Stockholm syndrome? He's right, he's not abusive.
     "You don't abuse me." I agree, still shocked.
     I pull him into a tight hug before kissing his cheek. I ruffle his hair to make it even messier. "Thanks, I needed that." I tell him.
     Brandon smiles brightly at me.
"Anyway... Race you to the water!"