Trapped: Kidnapped With Patrick Stump

Chapter 7

Liz's POV

Thursday. I've been here nearly a week with Patrick. I barely slept last night. I heard Patrick saying things in his sleep. Something about "not good enough", "I can't help her", and "she's stronger". If that's about me, he couldn't be farther off. I've always been the quiet type, so I try to keep things bottled up, unless I get really angry, sad, or happy. Truth is, I want to die. There's nothing either one of us can do against Alec. But the worst part is that Alec won't kill us. He keeps mentioning things about "needing us". I don't know what that means, but it can't be good.

Patrick tries to stay positive, but I can see it in his eyes. Hopelessness. Fear. Anger. Sadness. It's the same look my brother had before he killed himself. I never understood why he did that, until now. The feeling of not being good enough. Always being sad. Not finding joy in anything. It didn't make sense to me a year ago, but after the last two weeks, it's all I'm feeling. Along with the constant physical and psychological pain.

Who knew a person could change so much in just a week or two? We've both lost hope. We both have families. We both will never see them again. We both will never be the same again.

I hear steps getting closer and lightly shake Patrick awake.

"Huh? What?"

"Alec." I reply in a voice barely above a whisper.

Patrick is fully awake now.

"Ah! Good morning! No time for introductions, girl, come with me." Alec says.

I give Patrick one fleeting glance and get up. Patrick also gets up with me.

"No no no. Just the girl. You stay."

"Bu-"

"No buts! Sit down and wait patiently like a good little boy."

Alec grabs me by the scruff of my neck and drags me into another room in this seemingly endless torture basement. On one wall there's a mirror and the rest is concrete. In the middle is a table with restraints for arms, legs, and head. He roughly shoves me into the table and attaches all the straps, leaving me completely helpless. Then he twists a knob on a faucet above my forehead. A drip of water lands on me. A few seconds pass. Another drop. A few seconds pass. Another drop.

What is he doing?

"Now, judging by the look on your face, you're only mildly annoyed by the water. So, I'm going to leave and get your little friend and I'll be back for some questions."

I don't understand what he's doing. This water is only annoying. I don't have to answer any questions that he has.

He come back into the room empty handed, besides some...blood...please say Patrick is okay.

"I thought you were bringing Patrick?" I ask softly. Then remember one of the rules and add, "sir?"

"Don't worry about him, I don't need him for this."

He grabs a small pocketknife from his back pocket and traces my face with the blade, only slicing the top layer of skin. I squirm, but to no avail.

"Sit still you little slut. I don't want to use this." He says shaking the knife.

Then he leaves. I wait. He doesn't come back. The water keeps dripping.

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Drop.

All I hear is the small splash of the water and the beat of my heart. I don't dare make a sound.

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Drop.

Seconds turn into minutes. Minutes turn into hours. Hours turn into days. Days turn into weeks.

The walls feel as though they're closing in on me. My shoulders and knees spasm at repeatedly.

"Help! Patrick!" I sob. "Someone! Anyone!" I sink into the bed and hear a doorknob turn.

"Showtime!" Alec says in his over enthusiastic voice.

"Get me out! Let me go!" I yell through tears.

"I will! But first, you must answer my question."

"Fine! I do anything! But please! Let me go!"

"Where do you parents live?"

"What!?"

"Tell me where your parents live!"

"I-"

"WHERE DO THEY LIVE? GIVE ME AN ADDRESS!"

I swallow and through choked sobs reply. "386 West Brookenson Road! Now let me go! Let me go! Let me go!"

"Thank you." He leaves the room, with me still trapped on the table and the water droplets pounding into my head. If I'm here another minute I feel as though the drops will go through my skull.

He shoves Patrick into the room, who has a broken nose and a tear stained face.

"Patrick! Please! Please undo these!"

Patrick rushes over and undoes the straps with shaky hands.

I step onto the floor and nearly fall over, but Patrick catches me.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" He asks.

"I-I-I'm okay. H-he strapped me to the t-t-table and water dropped on my forehead. It doesn't s-s-sound that bad, but oh Patrick is was horrible! The walls were closing in on me, I was sinking into the table, I would spasm and it hurt so much!" I say while crying.

"Shh, shh, I know. I know. It's okay. He left. Let's go back to our room." He says stroking my hair.

I nod and we walk back to our room.

"H-how long was I gone?"

"I'd say 3 or 4 hours."

"It felt like weeks."

We sit there for awhile and eat some bread. I hear screaming upstairs, but, honestly, at this point, I don't care. It's not me. I'm down here with Patrick. The screaming stops and we eventually fall asleep. 

Ayyye looked who finally updated again?!??like!?!!what???!!? Anyways, I'd like to get back into the habit of updating, buuuuuut who knows.