Why Should I Tell You Anything? COMPLETED

A New Type of Normal

I slip on my black sweatpants, relief washing over me as I am soothed by the feeling of being normal. I stand in the washing room for a moment, relishing the silence that surrounds me. Drawing a large breath, I scan the washing room oddly anxious to be back here. The amber lighting flickers for a moment before returning to their normal state.

A basin of heavy porcelain sits upon a white pillar near the thick door. The floor slick with white marble that reflects the lights. A large tub sits against the wall with a large mirror set on the wall next to it allowing on to watch themselves while they took a bath. In the far corner is a glass rectangular that resembles a shower but instead, the showerhead hangs directly from the ceiling and there are two levels built into the wall to control it. In the other corner is the toilet which thankfully, is much like the ones at home except it is silent when flushes and made of shiny silver.

The room is odd but comforting at the same time. Bits and pieces of this bathroom are like home which I have begun to miss terribly. My heart aches for my warm bed and Mom's smiles. My hope sinks as I remember my predicament, reminding me that it may be a while before I am able to escape from this place.

I used this earlier to take a heavenly shower but it felt awkward to take a shower here. I had hoped it wouldn't come to that. But considering the fact I still had blood on my skin from days ago, it was time to accept the fact that I need to use their shower. They gave my regular clothes back, turns out they were washing the blood out of them and had to let them dry before they gave it back. It's very sweet but I still uncomfortable with the fact they are acting so nice. I'm paranoid that it's going to all going to end leaving me to face their darker side. The killers inside them.

I can't shake my strong sense of sympathy I've developed for each one. Even Adrien. I'm slowly understanding and feeling bad for all the pain they've been through. A small part of me wants to stay here if I knew Mom was alright only to help them escape this place as well.

My perspective is changing with every story they tell me. I am slowly respecting their decisions to kill even. What is becoming of me? Am I a sadist too for thinking that way? Why can't I continue blaming them for their evil deeds? Why can't I see them as the villains they truly are? Is this a bad thing? Or is this a type of self-preservation? Could this... be Stockholm Syndrome?

I take a deep breath sharing a look with my reflection. The space under my eyes smudged as my hair takes on a fizzy state. A faint red line cuts across my face from when Adrien threw his knife at me to force me to stop running from them in the beginning. My fingers brush across the line as my eyes remain vacant. They told me it's almost noon yet I'm exhausted. I could collapse at any moment.

I break my own stare before scooping up my black tank top off the floor as well as the loose-fitting grey shirt that went over it. I had asked if they had my phone after briefly explaining what a phone was but they said they couldn't find it confirmed my fears that it fell out somewhere. It was an old phone but I still feel bad about losing it. It costs money to replace phones and I hate the fact that Mom has to pay for something I lost.

It couldn't be helped. I was being chased by a bloodthirsty monster after all, what could I do?

The door suddenly opens.

I shriek and leap back, shielding myself with my arms and shirt I have yet to put on. My face bright red as Shiloh looks inside with a vacant look in his eyes seeming bored. I stumble back ready to yell at him for not knocking until I remember they probably have no sense of privacy anyway. I do my best to shield my upper chest specifically as I muster up a glare, "Shiloh!"

He only looks at me with a questioning look. Shiloh's eyes trail down for a second before he begins to blush to make matters worse. I grimace and continue to cross my arms tightly over myself, scared he can see. This only reminds me of how he put me in Tressa's dress when I was unconscious. I groan as my stomach builds up pressure from pure embarrassment.