Colour Me Red

Chapter 6: Ellie

Chapter 6: Ellie

I awoke to the sound of draws opening and my dreary eyes scanned the room.

They landed on the dark haired boy who was currently standing before a set of dark, wooden draws. He was in nothing but jeans with his back to me and I couldn't help but admire the way his lean muscles jumped beneath his skin.

I heard the sound of a zipper and I gasped.

He swore under his breath at the sound of me before turning around. The sight of him was even more impressive from the front.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I thought you were asleep."

I just nodded in response, my throat far to dry to form words.

"There are pancakes in the kitchen if you're hungry. I'm just going to have a shower," he said to me, before picking up a pile of clothes and heading into the adjoining bathroom.

I stayed exactly where I was for several beats, only climbing out of bed when I heard the sound of running water.

I considered changing into the dress that I had worn last night, but I enjoyed the warmth that the over-sized tee my killer had given me provided, and it was long enough to pass as a dress anyway.

The first thing I noticed when I entered the kitchen was the pile of golden pancakes that sat waiting for me at the table, covered in what looked to be maple syrup.

I may have drooled a little.

The second thing I noticed was the gleaming knife that held refuge on the counter top.

I wondered what game he was playing; it was no coincidence that he left the appliance where it was.

He was testing me. He wanted to see what I would do with a weapon at my disposal.

I hovered in the middle of the kitchen for a short while, contemplating what to do.

I knew that I had no chance in fighting him; especially with a knife. It was his weapon of choice when it came to killing people and I had no doubt that he could wield that thing better than any butcher I'd ever seen.

I came to the conclusion that there was little I could do to defend myself if he finally decided that I had been alive long enough.

Then a thought popped into my head.

I made my way over to the front door and carefully turned the handle. To my surprise, it opened.

The metal was cool under my palm and I pulled on it so that the door opened a fraction of an inch.

Peeking through the slender gap, I saw that there was no one around, no one to stop me from escaping.

Anger suddenly flared inside of me like a soaring flame. He was so sure of himself, knowing that I wouldn't run away. It almost made me want to, but I knew that he'd only hunt me down and make my death even more insufferable if I did.

It was terribly frustrating.

So instead of taking a shot at freedom, I sat down at the table and inhaled the pancakes that lay before me. There was no holding back. My love for them was undeniable.

It hit me then, that he'd been feeding me all my favourite foods.

The spaghetti bolognaise last night, the pancakes this morning . . .

'I've been following you for six months'.

The words swam around my head viciously like a piranha set loose to cause havoc.