New York- Where Dreams are Made

Chapter 97- Holding Out For a Hero

I roll my head back and stare up at the ceiling, mold and water damage staining the old paint.

I pull my arm up to rub my eyes. I can't. My wrists are bound to the wooden chair I'm sitting in.

Jon stalks into the room.

"You are fucking psychotic." I throw at him.

He laughs to himself about a joke I'm not let in on.

"I really do love your voice Charlotte. Too bad I can't hear it for a while."

He walks over to a dresser. It's too dark in the corner to see what he's doing. I hear a drawer open and tape being ripped.

Shit.

He came back over to my chair, fingering a strip of black tape.

"There is a way out of this." He cocks his head to the side like a dog.

"Sing to me. Anything." He leans against the wall and sits on the floor.

"How about I sing you a song called fu-"

He holds a hand up.

"No. A real song. I can always use the tape."

I roll my eyes and scowl at him.

"Fine. You're lucky I like music you psycho."

His eyes light up like a child in a candy store.

"Where have all the good men gone and where are all the guards? Where's the street wise Hercules to fight the rising odds?"

I force myself to sing it loudly and obnoxiously so he couldn't tell I was about to cry.

"Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need..."

He folded the tape and set it aside.

I roll my eyes again. I act like this is just a nuisance. Like it's just going to stop.

"I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero till the end of the night. He's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta fresh from the fight."

I was lying. I don't need anyone to save me. I can handle this.

My mind wandered back to Darren.

Truth be told, I don't care if I die. I'm worried that if I die, Jon might succeed. He might get what he wants.

I shiver at the thought.

"I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero till the morning light. He's gotta be sure and it's gotta be soon and it's gotta be larger that life!"

He holds up how hand. I must have kept singing mindlessly because I don't remember the rest of the song.

"That's good, Love. Save your voice for another time."

I scowled at him.

"Don't call me love." I growled at him.

He backed up.

"I would be nicer to me if I were you. I'm the only thing keeping you from leaving."

He trudged out, his boots hitting the tile loudly.

I leaned my head back again, scanning the ceiling.

Tears spilled from my eyes.

I'm not scared for me.

I'm scared for Addie.

I'm scared for Darren.

I'm scared that I won't be there to help.