Madhouse | Ethan Dolan

9

Octavia's POV

Things changed.

The 2 mystery rooms belonged to us. One for me. One for Ethan. One for Christine.

There was one difference.

He made Christine perform.

Everyday until she had nothing but a shred of dignity left.

"I feel really bad." Ethan mutters suddenly, rubbing my arm as we sit on his bed together, my head on his chest and his head resting over mine. "It happens every day."

"I don't know why she doesn't say anything...." I mumble, holding onto Ethan together. "She needs to protest."

"Octavia, we've been kidnaped. What good will protesting do?" Ethan asks, his tone sharpening slightly.

"Relax." I defend, pushing myself off of Ethan slightly. "I'm just saying she shouldn't brag about being raped if she hates it so much. This kind of stuff, rips into people."

Ethan pushes me away, red in his eyes. "Are you saying this is her fault? Octavia, this happens to her everyday and she doesn't even complain!"

I furrow my eyebrows at his sudden outburst. "Where's this coming from?" I ask. "Why're you so....." I trail off.

"Because you're being fucking stupid." He rolls his eyes.

"What?" I exclaim. "Seriously, where did this come from?"

"From you acting so heartless. We don't comfort her or anything."

"I don't know what to say anymore! She seems so happy about it!"

Ethan slams his hands against the bed. "You're unbelievable!"

"How're you bringing this up now?" I question. "What's gotten into you?"

Ethan clicks his tongue in annoyance, getting out of the room and leaving me there confused.

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Ethan's POV

"What was that about?" Christine chuckles behind me, taking a sip from a mug.

"Just a fight." I sigh, running my hands through my hair. "I don't even know why I got so upset." I mumble to myself.

Only one thing was going through my head.

I couldn't help but imagine: what if Christine was Octavia?

I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that Octavia was being raped. I just..... I took it all the wrong way.

"Go apologize." Christine says unreadably. "Before she just hates you."

I nod, walking back up. It's been about half an hour and I already feel bad.

Octavia sits on a recliner, her legs up as she reads a book.

"Hi." I whisper.

"Hi." She replies nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh." She says non interested,