Stockholm Syndrome

37: Submissive

37: Submissive

Luke had me shut up in the bedroom for four days after that, only coming in to check on me at times and to bring me food. I was still rebelling with the whole eating thing but he was getting more forceful about it.

Then, on the sixth day I was in the room, when Luke came in, I knocked the hot bowl of soup over. I told myself it was on accident and acted like it was, but I was slightly pleased it had happened.

A short gust of tears slipped out when the soup burned me and I was scrambling to clean it up. Luke watched me bending below him for a moment before kneeling to help.

For a while we frantically cleaned. Once the majority was cleaned up, Luke said it was fine.

"I'm going down to fix another bowl." He said, not losing his patience like I thought he would. I jogged after him to the door, not enjoying the dizzy feeling I felt as I did so.

"Wait!" I said, trying to make my voice boom confidently like his did. "I want out." He didn't turn to me.

"Stay here." He told me softly.

I watched the door closing but made a stupid impulse move and shoved my fingers in between the door and the frame to stop it. Luke had shut it rather harshly and I made a loud whine of pain. My fingers were red but they were easy to ignore once I realized I had succeeded in stopping the door.

 Luke had stopped, turned around, and was staring at me. He seemed about ready to push me back into the bedroom. But, when I gave him a defiant look, he waved his shoulder in a reluctant gesture for me to follow him.

 He waited for me to catch up and continued to the kitchen.

When we got there, he grabbed onto my wrist and I yelped. He stayed silent and dragged me to the sink. I was scared until I realized he just wanted me to put my fingers under cold water to help the pain.

"At least the door wasn't being closed by a rebellious seventeen year old who was running outside without permission." He gave me a hard time about my running out when he noticed me flinch at the contrast in temperature.

"At least you don't have to ask permission to go outside." I fired back.

"You know, for all the 'stinging' retorts you whip out, you're way more submissive than I thought you would be." He informed me quietly. That's when I lost it. I started crying. Crying because it was true. I didn't want to obey Luke like a dog, but here I was, letting him force feed me and keep me locked in a room that wasn't even mine.

 But I couldn't get away.

 The front door was locked and not from the inside.

 I cried. And after I did that for a while, Luke only staring at me, I stomped on his foot as hard as I could. I dug my heel in. Then I ran. I left the sink still running and I ran. Around the kitchen island, through the maze of living room furniture, up the stairs, down the hallway, and into the bedroom.

 I slammed the door before Luke even moved an inch.