The Price of Love

◆ 18 ◆

"She's been crying all day. How many tears can one little body hold? It's ridiculous-"

"And now she locked herself in! We can't open the door short of knocking it down, and I don't want to intrude on her when she's in such a state. It's volatile and it's dangerous to even go into the room right now."

"I agree with Lee. Caius, she hasn't eaten in three days, much less had any water. And Daphne's not going to fall into her temptations- she's going to carry on like this until her body finally exhausts itself out. She isn't stubborn by nature, but this is one battle we can't win. The first few days was acceptable, but it looks like there's no end in sight to such theatrics."

"Yeah, and she's in such a goddamn mood. I walked in with a glass of water the other night...she threw the water in my face, cracked the glass against the side of the bedpost, and then she tried to use one of the broken shards to stab me. Almost got me too. I didn't want to leave her with the pieces, but she wouldn't let me get within five feet of her."

"Damn, Phoenix."

"Shut up, Lee. She's going to die in there. What a headline that would be."

"It's been four days since the kidnapping, but the story's getting bigger every second. The police commissioner of New York sent out a report of the progress the investigators have made, and it isn't much. The reward for any proven sighting of Daphne has gone up a few thousand more since we last checked, and the ransom video was made publicly available online. If anything, the rumors are getting worse. We have to return her sometime, Caius- that's one fact that we need to straight."

"The statement came out last night from the manor that they are willing to pay the ransom."

"We have to make the next move."

"I know."

This conversation, spoken outside of the locked bedroom doors, didn't befall deaf ears. I listened in quiet contempt as Caius, Lee, and Phoenix discussed the next course of action. My actions, on the other hand, was a whole different story. Three days wasn't quite enough to bring me to the point of starvation, but at the same time, I still wasn't desperate enough to face Caius Kennedy after he fed Tommy to the dogs.

God, how morbid. A bullet wouldn't have been half bad. There were worse ways to go, of course, but being eaten alive certainly sounded horrible enough. At the time, shooting Tommy seemed like the end of the world- inconceivably awful and definitely the worst thing to happen- but now, as I reflected on relativity, I wished with all of my heart I had done it. A marginalized opportunity to avoid the most grotesque death I'd ever experienced, and I let the time run out.

The calm reflection on Tommy Bridges's death didn't come without a battle. On the first night, I simply lost my mind. I couldn't remember doing anything other than screaming into the pillow until dawn broke the clouds, and then the rest of the day was spent in a sobbing fit. The next night I attempted to bring the memory back to think it over, but I quickly found myself in hysterics. It was at this point that Phoenix tried to intercede, but everyone was my enemy by then. And last night, after crying myself out, I settled into a state of numbness in which I found myself attempting murder on anyone who tried to help. Barricading myself in the room was only a tiny source of relief. 

I could think of Tommy now, but only superficially. His death hung like an axe over my head, ready to swing down as soon as I tried to delve in too deeply. I needed to think about Tommy...thinking about him was the only way to heal. If I could reflect on him and his death properly, I could move on. But I couldn't do it properly. I could only bring back the memories a tiny bit before shoving it back down. Maybe, with time, I could remember. Perhaps after 50 or so years had passed, I could think about Tommy without crying. For now, it was impossible. 

Like self-preservation, this prolonged rebellion against the men who kidnapped me was a coping mechanism. They needed me more than I needed them, so if my suffering brought on even a little bit of panic to them, then I'd gladly starve.

Lying facedown on the bed, I tried to muffle out the conversation still being carried beyond the doors. It wasn't easy when every fiber of my being was still wired to escape at the next given opportunity. Staying alive was my number one priority, getting home was second. Even with Tommy's death, I was already planning another break. If not for Tommy, then for my parents. They still mattered, if nothing else did.

If I looked as hideous as I felt, then I was no longer one of the prettiest girls in the world. There was some strange comfort in that- being the object of jealousy was rather exhausting. Rolling onto my back, I caught a glimpse of myself on the shiny metallic surface of the bedpost. No, even distorted, I could see the beauty I had been taught to look for. Raising my hands, I touched my face, feeling the soft healthy skin as the product of countless beauty merchandise, the full red lips girls got lip injections to achieve, the slim Grecian nose, the full eyelashes...what did it all matter, truly, if the person wasn't pretty inside? Why did everyone value my looks so much? They were spread across magazines, published on billboards, envied by all...and what for? What did I gain from flaunting my beauty? 

A kidnapping and a dead best friend. But I suppose my luck had to run out sometime.

A feeling of pure recklessness washed over me. The glass shards were still on the floor...I could ruin the beauty that was worth so much. All it would take was one cut on the right spot, somewhere that wouldn't be missed, somewhere that would dominate my features. It was unbelievable even to me to go so far, but I needed to do something to change my life. My heart was irrevocably different now, but my world still wasn't. As soon as I got back, I would be shoved into the vapid Barbie mold I was meant to me, but I absolutely refused to leave without changing at least one noticeable aspect of my godforsaken life. They would have to notice I was a different Daphne now.

Before I could even lift my head, the twist of the doorknob caught my eye. With an extra heavy thud of my heart, I watched as Caius stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

And then locked it.