I Need a Hero (Stolen sequel)

Chapter 1

Darkness. 

That's all I could see. That's all I could feel. Just when I thought my new "life" couldn't get any worse. I wasn't a person anymore; I was an object that everyone assumed was their property. 

My eyes were closed, and I had no intention of opening them any time soon. I thought that if I kept the closed long enough, I would enter an eternal sleep, where I would finally escape this new hell I live in.

I had no idea what time it was, how long I've been asleep, let alone what day it was. I wasn't sure if knowing the answers would be better or not. Maybe living in the sweet bliss of naivety would make this easier. 

I was too lost in my own thoughts to hear footsteps walk over to me. I was startled by the touch of someone's hand rest on my shoulder. I still kept my eyes shut in hopes to not have to accept reality.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just me"

The familiarity of the voice made my stomach drop. I closed my eyes tighter, wishing I would wake up from this horrible nightmare. I would even settle for waking up in his old room, where Gerard would hear me scream and come in and rescue me. 

"Come on sleepyhead, you've been sleeping for a while now. I think you should get up and eat something," his hand was still on my shoulder. I wanted to shake him off of me, but was paralyzed in fear of how he would react. 

Should I just become a complacent zombie? Do what he tells me to do so I can live another day? Or do I fight back and possibly put my life in more danger than it already is? I don't think I'd win either way. Because no matter what, I'll always be a prisoner with no say in anything I do. 

I waited a few seconds before forcing my eyes open. I stayed in the same position while I adjusted to the light, with my back facing him and the wall towards my face. 

I reluctantly turned to lay on my back. I couldn't bring myself to look in his direction. 

"She's alive!" He jokingly exclaimed. "Do you want breakfast? Or, I guess I should say lunch. It's pretty late in the afternoon." 

I didn't realize how dry my mouth was until I tried to respond. I was so dehydrated. Probably from the amount of crying I've done recently. 

I shook my head. I stared at the ceiling because if I looked around, the reality of this would be too real, too quick. Even though I was up all night, it still hasn't registered that I had been taken away from... everything. Not only my home and my family, but now from Gerard and everyone else who had proof I was alive. The thought brought tears to my eyes.

"Oh, come on, don't cry yet. You still haven't seen your room." Frank rubbed my shoulder in attempts to calm me down, but it only made it worse. "I know this is hard for you, but this is harder for me. I didn't want to have to bring myself to do this, but you left me no choice. I'm here to show you how you should be treated." 

He couldn't be serious. If he wanted to show me how I should be treated, he wouldn't have let me be taken in the first place. He should have spared me, even if I did "ruin their perfect get away." 

I hid my face with my hands so I could weep in peace. I felt the bed sink as he sat down next to me. He tried comforting me, but he didn't realized how much worse he was making it.

"I promise, I'm going to take care of you. The second you look around, you'll understand how much I'm going to try and make you happy here." 

That was the second time he mentioned the room, which made me grow curious on the importance of it. What did he do to make him think a room would change this situation?