Captive by Hell

Senile

I walk slowly around the house in my dress and with my bruised ankle which didn't feel so bruised this morning. All I had to do was go in get food and avoid any signs of the devil. All very easy, then I could shower and lay in bed to hatch another escape plan. I continue to make my way to the kitchen making sure not step on any creaking floorboards.

I feel idiotic walking this way, on tiptoe, but I have no other choice. I just had to take one more step. I come to the archway into the kitchen and am just about to make my way in when I see him sitting there drinking coffee. I turn on my heel prepared to walk back to my room and try again another time.

"I'm starting to feel as if your ignoring me" my heart drops to the pit of my stomach and I scowl.
"Well you are a deranged sociopath so..yeah maybe a little" I hear a scoff at my words and try to walk away. I could just go back and starve a little longer. It wouldn't matter if it was either no food or losing an eyeball I would take no food.

"Aren't you hungry?" He asks his voice bouncing off the walls. I cower down. There was no way I was going to get out of this. I make my way into the kitchen.
"Yes" I answer feeling ridiculously sticky and nasty.
"So eat" he demands. I frown and open up the cabinet pulling out Honey Nut Cheerios and going over to the fridge to get milk.

I pull it out and lay it on the countertop reach up into the nearest cabinet and grabbing a bowl with a spoon from the drawer. I take everything in my arms bundling them together and make my way to the exit.
"Where are you going?" He says stopping me in my tracks.
"To my room" I say speaking through the bowl in my mouth. He gets up and comes around taking the bowl from my mouth.

"I didn't catch that could you say it again?" His smirk is evident and I huff.
"I was just heading to the counter to eat my breakfast" I turn around and place everything on the kitchen island while pulling up a stool. I snatch my bowl back and pour my breakfast.

Mmmmmm I sigh happily when eating the crunchy sweet o's. But the burning sensation in my back makes me uncomfortable. Did he have to watch me eat? I turn my head to see his tall figure leaning against the door post watching me. I turn back around and continue to eat. Oh well his loss now he has to hear me chew like a cow.

"Enjoy it, I'm thinking I'll give you ten more minutes to live" his voice is seriously impassive. And I spit the Cheerios out immediately getting up and backing away.
"Why? You've kept me alive for so long why change your mind" he shrugs.
"I guess you bore me" my heart beat escalates and I hate the sound of his immediate answer.

"No." I run out of the kitchen hearing him follow me. I just wanted to live. Was it so hard to ask for? My ankle screams under the pain and I run for my room. When I reach it I get inside running to close the door but he throws it open. I back away slowly my heart in my throat and my breath slowing. He comes closer, closer till my knees hit the edge of the bed.

"Do you like living?"I nod my head going up and down furiously as he gets close. His hand reaches out and clutches the back of my neck roughly holding it in place.
"If I move my wrist poof! No more!" A small squeal comes from the back of my throats and I refuse to move. I didn't want to be the one to accidentally make his wrist flick.
He brings his lips to my ear causing a shiver to go down my spine.

"So tell me, give me a good reason. Why should I let you live?" I think it over. I shouldn't have to but there was nothing I could really offer him.
"Because I'm nothing like you!" Confidence spikes through me and I find myself filled with adrenaline. Maybe because I was on the brink of death or just because I wanted to go out with a bang.

"Your a senile, angry, manipulative person who has never tried to be more than a a crazy, lost and afraid captor" his hand loosens on me as he stares at me his face still the same impassive look.

I push his hand away and move as back as I can. If being an original idiot didn't kill me yet then being a total complete and utter moron would. I think about what next to say. If I want respect it has to be earned, that was something my father always said.
"So go and have fun with your knives and go accessorize your torture toys. But as long as I'm stuck here with you again don't you ever threaten, touch or abuse me again!" I stand tall and keep my head up till I make it out the door and when I do I run for the bathroom casually locking it behind me.

I am so super duper dead. No joke. Once I leave this bathroom I'm dead, who would have thought my final moments would be while pooping. I sit on the marble floor and wait, he was probably sharpening a spoon as to kill me by scooping out my organs or something deeply terrifying like that.
I stand up reaching for the zipper of the dress and release it taking it off and getting into the shower.
At least I would die clean. Naked but clean. I turn the hot water on hesitantly listening incase he was coming anytime soon. But I hear nothing. No footsteps and no creepy wall scraping.

So I continue to shower the soap soothing my dirty rough skin and the water relaxing my muscles. When i finish I hop out and grab the nearest towel wrapping my hair up in it and then grab the other wrapping my body.
I scowl. The bruises on my body were visible now and I had no clothes to put on. I pick up the dress and the rest of my dirty bloody clothes and throw it in the trash.

Maybe I knocked some sense into him and he is having a mid life crisis or something close to that. He has finally realized he can't treat people the way he does. Confident I'm right I open the door slowly. I poke my head out scanning the hallway but see no one. Okay that was a good sign. Maybe I could just slowly make my way to the  room without any trouble and maybe later I could leave.

I come into my room closing the door behind me only to turn and see him sitting up right on the bed and his legs stretched out comfortably. His devilish red eyes catch mine and I feel my cheeks heating up and my knees becoming weak.

Senile or not he is still intimidating and extremely attractive.
"Get out" I say clutching my towel closer to my body. If he would just leave I could live my life of solitude. He stands up coming closer.
I back away. Could this moment get more awkward. He comes so close that his body is squeezing mine against the door and his eyes watch me.

I shudder my heart beginning to pound and my cheeks flushing red.
"Move" my voice comes out small and I try to shove him away from me. He won't budge and when I try again I feel the towel unravel and slip from my body.

I gasp picking it up quickly and covering myself. But he didn't look down surprisingly.

His smirk is evident and he moves me aside easily making his way out of my room.i was right. Completely and utterly right. He's extremely senile.