08: Staring Contest
Three days... Four? Two? I'm not sure how long I've been here. Rationally, I know it's only been two to four days but in my mind, it's been an eternity. Because almost every second of each twenty four hour period is filled with one thing. Staring. He just stares at me. Doesn't talk. Just stares.
After my screaming bout, I had quieted down from exhaustion. My body was trembling violently from the stress. He could tell that I was tiring out and I refused to agree that he looked worried over me. My pills weren't helping to calm my nerves. I had even tried to convince him to let me have more than what I was prescribed. But he and I both knew that that wasn't the answer. He did not allow me to have the bottle in fear I would overdose. He hardly ever took his eyes off me in case I tried something. But I was too weak to do anything and I'm sure he recognized that.
After I fell asleep with his eyes on me, I had woken and the same thing had happened again. Then I fell asleep again. Now he was staring. As I said earlier. And it had been like this for an hour.
"Have you ever been in a staring contest?" I asked him. I looked anywhere but his eyes. He cocked his eyebrows.
"What makes you ask?"
"Don't play dumb." I hissed. My voice was hoarse from, first screaming, then not speaking for hours.
"In third grade I was bullied by this kid. I won't give him a name. He doesn't deserve one."
"You gave yourself a name." I interrupted, hostile. I wasn't sure where he was going with this. He pushed on, ignoring my comment.
"Billy, his name was Billy. And he bullied me all through elementary school." Luke paused. "In ninth grade I challenged him to a staring contest. I told him that if he won, he could keep ruining my life and I wouldn't try to stop him." He sighed. "And if I won, he would stop bullying me and everyone else that he was a jerk to." He explained. I finally met his eyes and they were on fire. "I knew Billy would keep his word." Luke ended.
"Did you win?"
"Different story for a different day." He responded shortly. I went back to looking at my lap.
"Why did you tell me this then?"
"Yes. I have been in a staring contest before." He answered two questions at once.
YOU ARE READING
Stockholm Syndrome
General FictionI didn't want to. I wouldn't. I won't. But suddenly I was doing it. I didn't even register my feet hitting the fourteen steps it took to get up the stairs. My brain ignored the ninth step and how creaky and loud it was. And then I was there. Finding...
