Stockholm Syndrome

Stockholm Syndrome II

I woke up excited for my rendezvous with Evan. Noticing that it was almost 12 o'clock I frantically jumped up out of bed. As I looked around the room, another wave of panic shot through me. This wasn't my room at all. The walls were pure white and there was scarcely any furniture, apart from a bed, a night table, and a lamp. As memories of last night came flooding back, my dead parents, my broken house, my own kidnapping, I found myself screaming as Walters came into my room.

"What's wrong princess?" he asked.

The moment I saw him, I broke down, my sobs echoing around the tiny, empty room. The man who had just killed my parents, ruined my life was standing in front of me and I couldn't do a thing about it. My knees buckled as I began to fall to the floor. I expected to be face planting again, but instead I was caught my

Walters' arms who moved me onto the bed.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his hand on my back moving in small circles as he tried to comfort me.

"Sorry, that's all you can say?! You ruined my life and the one word you say is sorry?"

"Look princess, it had to be done. You wouldn't understand."

I shrugged his arm off my back, infuriated by his words. "I wouldn't understand?! You know what you're right. I don't understand why a deranged man came into my house and ruined everything." I stood up and I began to walk away. "Oh and by the way, my name is Hope not princess!"

I turned leaving through the doorway as Walters sat on the bed, immobile. The hallway my room led into was bright and sunny. It was welcoming and exactly what I didn't want to see. The hall lead into a small foyer, the ceilings were tall and there were stairs leading up. I ignored the stairs and continued walking straight into a sitting room. There was no door outside anywhere in this house. I flung myself down face first on the couch, not caring if my tears were going to ruin the expensive looking upholstery. I was trapped in god knows where and things were not okay. Eventually, I noticed an elevator a little down the hallway. Making my way over, I pressed the only button there, down. I listened to the noise the elevator was making as I waited for its doors to open up. When they eventually did, a big burly man was standing there, holding a brown paper bag in his arms.

"Where do you think you're going?" his voice was confused and I immediately recognized it to be Giles from the night before.

"Home." I said as I attempted to push past him.

Being as big as he was there was no way I was able to get by. He stopped me with one hand. "No you aren't. You're staying here. Now, are you hungry? I can get someone to cook you some lunch."

My attempts to get by were not coming with a reward and being the little baby that I was, I fell to the ground arms crossed. "I hate you, both of you."

Giles squatted down so he was eye level with me. "That's not very nice." His eye brows were meshed together and I finally got a chance to look at him. Like I noticed before he was a big man, not fat but extremely muscular and tall. He had dark brown hair and matching brown eyes. His eyes moved down towards my nose and a solemn expression displayed on his face, "I'm sorry about that by the way."

My hand shot up to my nose and I grimaced at the pain that followed. I jumped up and walked over to the end of the hall, where a big floor length mirror was located. I looked a mess; my strawberry blonde hair was unruly, knots covering the whole thing, my green eyes looked lifeless and sad, my nose was slightly crooked and covered in brown, dry blood.

"What the hell happened?"

"It's probably broken." I watched Giles through the mirror; he had returned to his full height and was still holding the brown bag.