My Peace and Serenity (A Jeff The Killer Story)

Chapter 20

The next few days went by slowly, my time with Jeff being spent getting acquainted to my new lifestyle in hiding.

In those few days I learned that after my mother died Jeff had been balancing a double life. One half was spent watching over me and making sure no one knew I was alive. Since everybody my mom lived with knew she was pregnant, a guy by the name of Jack--who had helped my mother give birth to me-- told everyone that I had died with my mother due to her complications.
The other half of Jeffs time was spent working for his old boss, he had to balance his time staying there and here at the house watching me to make sure no one got suspicious.

Over my time here, Jeff and I have found ourselves on good terms one minute and then the next we're at each other's throats. Our relationship is like a roller coaster, and soon I found myself abandoning my usual instinct of crying. After living with Jeff I've started fighting back.

However, today is different from our usual staying in days. Today, Jeff is going to start training me.

I ask him all the time why I have to, why it's so important after I'm finally a little more bulky and toned.

"I can take care of myself!" I yelled at him for the millionth time today. "And why do I need to know how to fight when I'm probably never going to leave this place?!"

Jeff was across the living room, teeth gritted and his cut smile rigid with rage.
"There are certain expectations you have to live up to, we've been over this several times!"

Yes, all the things I have to live up to. Ironically, I have no idea what exactly those things are.
Jeff refuses to tell me, says I'm "not ready".

"How can you expect me to train with you when I have no idea what I'm training for?! That's a new level of being a hypocrite, asshole!"

"You call me an asshole when you're the one who keeps fighting me!" He snaps back, getting in my face as he usually does when he's on the brink of violent outbursts.

I've gained a few bruises from those outbursts but I don't help by encouraging him. And it's not like he beats me, it's more like school yard fights. It never escalates to extreme, thank goodness.

However, I do nothing to stop it. I keep shoving at his buttons, twisting my thumb and jamming them to their brink.

"Well, you're the one who keeps fighting back! If you hate arguing so much just tell me what I'm trying to accomplish here!! Answer my damn questions, it's not that fucking hard!!!"

And here we are again. In a loop of tug of war.
I don't know what changed in me the past week. I've just found myself tired of being a pushover and letting Jeff walk all over me. Even when we have our good moments, they last like our bad ones.
We've gotten closer, but we always end up this way.

"Oh, whatever!!!" Jeff snaps.

"Don't 'whatever' me!"

"You're not my fucking mom!" He jabs a finger at my chest but I don't budge.

"If you guys are done with you're couples counseling, I'd really like to discuss business" a foreign voice rasps from the front door.

Jeff and I both look at the owner of the outburst. Jeff seems embarrassed but I still have no idea who this person is. They wear a dark blue mask with faded streaks of black coming from the eyes, and dark clothes perfect for an undetected midnight stroll.

"W-We're not a couple!" Jeff responds, face turning red. "We were just--"

"Fighting." The man finishes, "As to be expected after your time together."