Side.

Side. - Chapter 17

Chapter 17.

I knew I was being wrong, being a dick, a horrible guy. Nobody shouldn’t actually treat a girl the way I did. But I didn’t do it to hurt her, even though I did and I knew it, I did it to hurt Harry. I knew what I did was worse than Harry did to me, and I didn’t even have a prove that Harry stole my mother’s necklace. My whole plan was insane, really. I was a sick, pathetic man, I still am. But on the other side, I didn’t care. I didn’t give a fuck about Kimberly, neither did I about Harry, yet I still was planning on hurting him, by hurting ‘his girl’. 

I had treated the young lady not in a good way. Most of the time I kept her in my cellar, keeping her away from the outside of the house. I couldn’t take the risk of Harry seeing her, since he lived so close. I brought her food and drinks, even warm clothes for during the night, because it would be freezing down there in a room with a concerte floor and no light or heater. At night I could hear her cry and during the day she begged me to let her go, but I knew she’d tell someone what I had done to her. 

After a few weeks I started to regret my plan. Not the part where my idea was taking revenge on Harry, but I regretted using Kimberly. She didn’t do anything wrong, yet I blamed her for being with Harry, every time I saw her while she begged me to let her go. It sounded like I was jealous at Harry for having Kimberly, but that wasn’t true at all. I told her that this, what I did to her, was her own fault. “Then you shouldn’t have been with Harry” I scolded at her. But just because I regretted what I did to her, I couldn’t let her go. I knew that she’d go to the police and tell them everything, and she’d tell Harry of course. 

One day Chris, my old friend who took me to my first party, called me. I was totally surprised because he hadn’t called me in a long while. He asked me how I was doing, and why I hadn’t called him since I left my old hometown. I felt a bit angry, because he asked me why I didn’t call him, but he hadn’t called me either. On the other side, I was glad we talked again. After a short while he asked me if I wanted to hang out again, and before my brain could make a decision for me, I spoke. “Sure” I replied and in a minute we said we’d meet each other a few days after. 

The days passed in a blur, despite the days were exaclty the same as the days and weeks before. I sometimes let Kimberly come up from the cellar to the living room and kitchen, so she could have some normal daylight. She’d make her own tea and I let her watch some TV. “If you scream, you know what will happen.” I reminded her everytime she came up, threatening her. She knew exaclty what I meant, and I knew she didn’t want me to get in her pants again against her own will. Kimberly kept quiet all the time, she only talked when she was in the cellar. When she was in the living room, I closed all the curtains and if the doorbell rang, I forced her to stay quiet, even though I already knew she wouldn’t dare to say anything anyway.

I remember waking Kimberly early in the morning, placing a plate with food and a bottle of water on the cold floor. Her sleepy eyes slowly opened, instantly looking confused by my appearence in the early morning. I told her I’d be at home in the evening. She just nodded. Somehow, I felt guilt going through my chest. I had to watch the poor girl living here in my cellar. She hated it, of course she did. She missed home, she didn’t want to be here. She trusted me, not anymore. She saw me as a friend, she thought that I’d never hurt her. Honestly, I wished I could let her go and make her forget everything that happened. But I couldn’t. She’d go to the police. 

“Is there anything wrong?” Kimberly sweetly, yet afraid, whispered, pulling me out of my thoughts. I sighed and shook my head. Why would she care about my feelings anyway. A voice in my mind told me to tell her my thoughts though, that I wanted to let her go but it wasn’t that easily. She didn’t deserve any of what I had done to her. She was a sweet person, she cared about everyone, even about me.