Stockholm Syndrome // sm

Chapter Eight

- slight trigger warning : mentions/occurance of forceful advances -

"For someone forced to be in this house, you're awfully complacent here." Emerald commented as she took the fake nails I had on, off.

I swear the girl had some kind of bipolar disorder, or a personality disorder. When drinking her coffee she was popping some kind of pill, so maybe she did have a disorder. I wouldn't know, and quite frankly I didn't have the balls to ask.

Regardless, disorder or not, I hate her.

"Not really." I muttered. "I'm not crazy about being here... but it could be worse, right?" I rationed and she shrugged as she filed my nails down a bit.

"Totally. Shawn's sweet, almost boyfriend material." She suggested and I rolled my eyes. "If you weren't forced to be here, would you go for it?"

"No, I have a boyfriend. Or... or had." I mumbled and she smiled sadly, pushing my hair behind my ear.

"It's alright dear." She whispered, seeming worried that if she spoke any louder, it'd seem like a tear in the mood this moment had created. I'm surprised she hadn't hit me by now, telling me to 'suck it up' or whatever. "This feeling won't be forever."

"I know, but everything feels like forever until it passes." I told her and she nodded, agreeing with me.

"You're too young to stress over this. You don't deserve this."

"I guess." I sighed and looked at my hands, pulling them anyway from here. "I'm here getting closests fit for celebrities and manicures for free, while my family and friends are at home thinking I'm dead. How selfish and disgusting of me."

"That is not what I meant-"

"No-No it isn't, but that's the thing, words can have millions of different interpretations." I reasoned and she looked dumbstruck, almost like a deer caught in headlights.

"Jennifer-"

"I'm... I'm going to go to my room..." I muttered and she told me I was already in my room. "I'll uh go somewhere else."

"You were stripped from your life, and thrown into this lifestyle, the least you can do, the very least - is accept that Shawn is trying to make this as comfortable as he can for you. Even if it means pampering you as if you were some kind of a princess." She insisted. I shook my head, unable to think rationally about this. I don't think I wanted to.

"I can't do this." I said and ran a hand through my hair. "I can't." I repeated and she held my hand.

"You can-"

"My family thinks I'm dead Esmerelda! My best friend is probably dead! My boyfriend most likely thinks I'm dead aswell! I'm very much alive, and getting all this special treatment while they're drowning in tears that shouldn't have even been shed!" I nearly sobbed to her.

"You're so fortunate to have Shawn here. Listen, yes it's horrible that your family was given false information, but think of yourself. It's okay to think of yourself only. You could have been sent to some aggressive, sadistic, merciless dude here. Someone who couldn't give a second thought whether you were comfortable or not. If I were you, I'd relish in the fact I had someone like Shawn here." She exclaimed, seeming to slowly return to her old self.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Almost as if she was trying to keep from going bezerk.

"Maybe then I wouldn't feel so bad." I dared to utter. She was silent and I took a deep breath. "Because I don't deserve all of this! I don't want this!"