You find yourself babysitting after running from an abusive boyfriend. What you don't know, is that the kid is actually a doll and the parents are never coming back. Ever.
Brahms came into the room, "Do you want to go to the garden?" He asked. I nodded wanting fresh air. He opened the back door and led me to the garden. He didn't speak to me the whole time. He followed me everywhere I went and kept a very close eye on me, making me uncomfortable. He got closer and closer with every second I waited. Eventually I'd moved away from him slightly.
I walked to the other side of the garden and looked at a rose bush. There was only one live rose on the bush. The rest were dead but in an eerie kind of way. The one that was alive was the most beautiful rose I'd ever seen; it looked as if fire had singed around the edge of every petal.
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I stood admiring the rose when I felt someone over my shoulder.
"Time to go inside." Brahms demanded catching my attention.
I walked back in the direction of the house without saying a word to him. I figured that if I obeyed him he wouldn't hurt me.
I sat on the couch in the study and waited for him to put all the locks back on the door. When he finally appeared in the door he was holding a book. He asked me to read it to him. As I was reading to him I found myself growing more and more impatient and annoyed. I didn't know why I was so angry but it showed through my tone of voice and forceful page flipping. Every word made me more anxious than the last until I finally marked the page and put the book down. "I think that's enough for today, Brahms. I'm going upstairs... I'll start dinner in an hour."
I walked up the stairs and to my room. The door was locked so I took a moment and sat on the edge of my bed. I gripped and pulled at my hair. Tears drippd down my cheeks at the frustration. He was so smart. He'd thought of everything. I felt so helpless. I'd die here. Well sooner or later I'd have to go out for groceries. That would be my ticket out of this place, of course! Why hadn't I thought of that before.
An hour later I was down stairs peeling potatoes and slicing as many carrots as I could. I was so concentrated I didn't realize I'd sliced through my finger until I involuntarily screamed. The blood was rushing out quickly. I felt like I was about to faint.
Brahms was at my side in a matter of seconds. He immediatley sat me on a counter and put stitches in my finger and wrapped it.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
I nodded. He then left the kitchen and was out of my view. I sat there on the counter wonderstruck until I saw the carrots steaming.
Dinner was on the table and Brahms was sat opposite of me. I stared at him until he met my gaze. I shot my eyes to my plate. I pushed my carrots around and mixed some with the other items on the plate. A dark haze suddenly surrounded me. I didn't dare to look up.
