faded

36.0 - helpless

I'm not sure when I fall asleep but I can feel him slightly shaking me. He repeats my name over and over, but even that makes me cringe.

He opens the car door for me and I get out carefully, analyzing his every move. I have to make sure I have some sort of advantage over him at all times, especially if I'm going to escape.

We've pulled up to a large house surrounded by trees and countryside, how surprising. I realize that the house looks new, as if it were bought only to keep me in it recently. I'm not sure what I expect as he yanks me up the driveway and eventually into the house, but I can't allow myself to focus on the pain he's left on my arm or the one I feel as I realize I'm afraid.

It's a nice house, but strange in the way it's decorated. There are several locks on the front door and the windows towards the living room seem to be boarded up with some sort of black plastic that make it impossible to look outside. There's locks on what I assume is a closet door, the hall is dimly lit, and it just dawns on me he's arranged this house like this to keep me in.

But this isn't the way things should be at all. If you love someone and they love you, you should be together happily. Not on their terms. Not by force. I've relied too much on him before to watch over me and maybe it's made me numb, but I know in my heart I could never hurt anyone like he's hurt me. I can't wrap my head around how someone could just throw someone away or damage them to the point where they have no sense of what is real.

"Go upstairs," he says in that familiar tone.

Two words, a command, and I feel like that girl in the warehouse again. He shrinks me down to someone I don't want to be anymore.

"No."

He stops dead in his tracks and takes a good look at me, as if he's giving me a chance to follow his orders.

"You're getting a little too brave, Anastasia... I'm trying to be patient."

I scoff, taking a step back as if I'll be able to unlock a door that's locked on the outside as well as the inside. There's nothing I can do now except try to fight. Still, my brain nags at me and tells me there's no point. I have learned that there is no type of hesitation from Zayn. I think back to how I used to think he had a conscience, I thought he actually felt bad when he hurt me. It was so easy for me to give in when I saw him so down and wounded, even though I was the one hurting. I was the one broken. I learned quickly.

"What are you gonna do to me? What haven't you already done, Zayn? Just fucking KILL me if that will make you feel better!" I realized I was raising my voice when he approached me like a wild predator, "I'd rather fucking die than be here with you."

He grabbed both of my wrists and I squirmed, the murderous look in his eyes alerting me. "You're not going back to Harry, got it? Maybe I will kill you, maybe i'll keep you here, maybe i'll throw you out in the middle of nowhere like a dog. But you can forget about ever seeing him again."

My first instinct is to cry, but it becomes hard to follow through with that. Zayn slams me against the counter, the burning pain not easy to ignore at all when it begins to spread across my back. All I can really do is bite my lip hard and try to shake him off, kicking and screaming, but he's too strong and there's no one that can come and help me.

"You're not so strong now, not so fucking confident now," he whispers to me as he easily pins me against the counter, the edge digging into my already sore spot. His breath is scalding against my neck and my own breathing is almost silent.

"I'm gonna kill him. And you know what?" He taunts, "It'll be all your fault."

I don't want to be frozen, I don't want to be terrified. The thought of something bad happening to Harry because of me makes me sick. So many people have died because of me, I've been the cause of so much pain. Why am I not the one who's dead? Why do I have to drag people down with me because I make horrible choices?

"Please don't, he didn't do anything wrong."

He trails his hand down my thigh and then up again eerily, slowly enough to make me shudder. "What a surprise, you didn't fuck him?"

I shake my head no but that doesn't seem to be a good answer because he drags me off down the hallway with no word. I don't know why it's so hard for me to react. I know I have to do something, but what? I know he has a gun, I know he'll beat me. It doesn't fucking matter what I do and what I don't do, he's way stronger than me and he always has been. Maybe he always will be if I don't make it out of here alive. I know I won't. There is too much rage and too much hatred in him now, he's let it consume him. I find myself in the bathroom and I'm not sure why we're here. He locks the door and pushes me to the other extreme of the large room. The water is turned on and the tub begins to fill with water.

"Tell me the truth, did you fuck him?"

"No, I swear," I answer, voice shaking involuntarily.

He doesn't believe me. "How many times? If I had known you wanted to fuck other men I would have left you at the warehouse," Zayn says darkly, but it hurts my feelings.. It really hurts. "At least you would've made yourself useful and made me some money. Maybe I'll take you there, that's clearly what you want. Isn't it?"

I hang my head in shame.

"Not gonna answer?" There's that teasing tone again. "Alright, I'll teach you a lesson."

His hands lock around my wrists.

No, no.

"When I ask you something, you answer me."

Oh, God. Oh, God.

I can't think of any other reason why he'd fill the tub and go as far as putting a clear substance in it, like oil. It begins to smell like flowers and I'm extremely confused.

"Get in the tub."