Stockholm Syndrome // sm

Chapter Four

"Are you feeling better?" He asked me and I gave him a half-hearted shrug of the shoulders.

"Are you hungry?" The boy questioned and I stared blankly at him. "You need to eat." He added.

"What's your name?" I asked him and he looked at me. "I want to know your name. You haven't told me."

"Shawn." He answered and I nodded though he couldn't see. "What do you want to eat?" He repeated me and I made sure to watch his every move.

"Do you have fruit?"

"I have bananas, apples, grapes, oranges..." He listed and I asked for grapes. "That's it?" He seemed more than just surprised.

"Yes."

"You don't want pancakes? Eggs? Oatmeal?" He asked and I shook my head as I looked at the table.

"I'm not very hungry." I stated and he was silent. "I don't have an appetite right now." I told him and he nodded.

"Okay." He caved in, opening the fridge. He pulled a bag of grapes out, taking a bundle and setting them in a bowl before running them under some water.

He handed them to me, but I couldn't help but grow paranoid. "I didn't poison them." He remarked, picking up on my hesitance.

"Eat one."

He rolled his eyes and picked one, placing it in his mouth. He showed me an empty hand when he finished and smiled. "They're fine. Please eat." He pleaded me and I reached for one.

"You say please a lot."

"It's more polite than me demanding you, or forcing you even." He retorted me I just looked at him as he just took a bowl of cereal for himself.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Are you being so polite to me?" I questioned curiously, wondering what game he was playing at right here. "Why are you being so nice? What do you want from me? What are you trying to do?"

"I want you to be comfortable here-"

"You're a lying sack of-"

"Listen." He spoke and lowered his voice as he looked around. "I don't like this anymore than you do. In fact, I'd rather not be in this situation, but I don't have a choice, just like you. So to make this less awkward and less painful, I'm trying to be civil so it's less a prison, more like staying at a friend of a friend's house. Awkward, but bareable."

"There is nothing you can do that can make this feel any different from being trapped in prison. I don't want to be here, and I don't want to be around you." I sneered, pushing the grapes he gave me at him and standing up.

"I'm not a bad-"

"Yes you are. That man sent me here, so you must be damn well as bad as him. Don't lie to me. Ever hear the saying, like father like son?" I fumed and walked away, running back up the room he let me stay in.

I slammed the door shut and leaned against it. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so the moment I saw you!" He yelled from the kitchen, and I could tell he was more than just frustrated with me.

What did he expect from me? Did he think I would just fall for his lies? Was he ready to see me to treat him like my friend? If so, he's dumber than I thought.

There's no way in hell that would happen.

-

"I need clothes." I told him and he looked at me. "If I'm stuck here, I need more than just one set of clothes. I want a shower."