Trust [h.s.]

III

I spent two days cooped up in that stuffy bedroom, only leaving to take necessary trips to the toilet, and to occupy myself with time-consuming showers. The clothes that I wore were what I found in the dresser in my room: black boxer shorts, and oversized t-shirts. I assumed they were Harry's, but seeing as I had nothing else to wear, and the fact that I was being held in his home against my will, I knew he wouldn't mind. I avoided Harry in that time as well, far too fearful of him, and also feeling a complete unknowing of what to even say.

However, on the second day, the grumble of my empty stomach proved to be too persistent to ignore, and as much as I disapproved, I needed to eat. I hadn't eaten since the day before I'd been taken, and I was beginning to feel weak and lightheaded. I knew I couldn't continue to go on in such a manner, and begrudgingly decided to fulfill my body's needs.

Hesitantly, I opened the door to my room, sticking my head out, and peering into the hallway to make sure I was alone. When I was unmet by Harry's intimidating glare, I pranced down the corridor, and down the stairs, where I wandered around until I found the kitchen. Its modern design surprised me, its granite countertops and stainless steal appliances looked high-tech and in style. I began to wonder what is was that Harry did for a living to allow him to afford such luxuries.

I aimlessly pulled the door to the refrigerator open, and searched for something appetizing to suit my stomach. The cold air wafting through the appliance burned the exposed skin of my legs, and I hopped from one bare foot to another in an attempt to heat my body up.

"Hungry?" Harry's deep voice startled me, causing me to jump and produce a small squeak. I turned around, meeting his intense emerald gaze. He wore a white v-neck, the splotches of ink on his chest were peaking out from beneath the fabric, and his black jeans hung dangerously low on his narrow hips. I gulped. "I said: Are you hungry?" He tried again, taking a step towards me. It was then that I realized his advantage over me, his towering height looming over my small body, and his broad shoulders held his incredibly defined muscles in tact. He raised his brow. I said nothing.

He sighed, maneuvering around my petite frame to obtain access to the contents in the refrigerator. As he pulled differing ingredients out, I awkwardly made my way to the stools that lined the bar at the far end of the room. I picked at my fingernails, not wanting to accidentally make unwanted eye contact with this terrifying stranger.

Eventually, Harry had finished his task,and strolled over to where I sat with a plate in hand. He set it down in front of me, and I inspected the sandwich laying before me, wondering if he had poisoned it. As I assumed it was okay, and was just about to dig in, Harry snatched the plate from beneath my fingers.

"If you're going to eat this, you need to talk." He warned with a furrowed brow. I simply stared at him, desperately unwilling to give him the satisfaction that he so desired. I didn't want to talk, I didn't want to be there. I couldn't comply to his ridiculous demands, and I was most certainly not going down without a fight. "I'm waiting." He smirked, hoping to crush my strength. The aggravating grumble of my stomach sounded in the noiseless room, reminding me of how badly I was in need of food.

"I want to go home." I answered lowly, offering him the dirtiest glare that I could muster.

"You can't." He spoke loudly, eyes growing dark with anger.

"Why am I here?" I retaliated in an equally harsh tone.

"I already told you why! You live here now, and you're going to respect me, dammit!" He dropped the plate forcefully onto the countertop, the ceramic edges tattering and echoing against the granite. Harry stomped out of the room, tugging at his hair in utter infuriation.

~*~

I didn't know what to do with myself. Surely I would go crazy if I remained in that stuffy room any longer, and I knew that talking to Harry was out of the question, so I wandered around the house, exploring and familiarizing myself.

I was confused. My brain was confused and contradicting and just flat out boggled as to what was going on. One minute my life was normal, and the next I'm held hostage in a stranger's house for an unknown reason. I was angry and scared and sad and home sick, and the more I thought about my current predicament, the more I felt like crying. I found myself wishing to be able to turn off my brain, and let my clouded mind rest, at least temporarily.

As I came to the end of my third time wondering around the house, I heard the dreadful noise of footsteps. Harry's footsteps. Nearing me at a rapid pace. My eyes speedily searched the area, hoping to find a small place to hide from him, but unfortunately, his arrival was faster than expected.

"We need to have a serious conversation." He told me with a tight jaw. The previous strength that I felt had diminished, leaving me with nothing but fear towards this man. I studied the floor, too unwilling to meet his harsh stare. "Ellie, look at me." His rushed words were impatient and mean, but I reluctantly did as told. He sighed, running a hand through his voluminous curls.

"I need to establish some ground rules." He explained, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "First, no going in my office. Ever. Second, do as I say, or you'll regret it." I shivered at the thought of his venomous threat. "And third," He caught my attention once more. "If you go outside without me, you will die. So if I were you, I wouldn't try to escape."

"What?" The shriek fell out of my mouth before I could push it back in.

"The men that wanted you dead before are still out there, and if they catch you, which they would, they will kill you." His eyes showed no remorse or sympathy as he said this, they just displayed a green, empty void. A few silent tears slipped from my eyes, before I furiously wiped them away.

"Take me home!" I pleaded with a shaky voice. "I can call the police, they won't let anything happen to me!"

"You'll do no such thing!" Harry roared furiously, his jaw locking in place as his dark eyes narrowed upon me.

"Please," I cried, not bothering to wipe the tears away this time. "Please just let me go."

I hated Harry. I hated him, and his house, and his rules, and his anger. I hated all of it, and I wanted nothing more than to free myself of his suffocating clutch, and return home.

It took a few moments of calming myself down before I realized that it was my chance. Harry was gone. I was going to escape.

I first tried the front door, but as it didn't budge, I assumed that it had been locked from both the outside and inside, and if I was going to simply walk out the door, I would need a key. I tried every window on the first floor, they were all securely locked, and in place. I needed to break them. A turquoise vase sitting on a side table caught my attention. I picked it up, examining its beauty momentarily, before taking it to the window in the front hall. I took a half-step back, then with all of my might, flung the object towards the window. The two collided instantly, shards of glass exploding, then sent flying through the air. The pane of the window had a substantial hole in it, its rough edges looking unwelcoming and dangerous.

I kicked at the window, the excess shards dangling unnecessarily fell to the floor with a clank. The hole was big enough for me to fit through. I shimmied my frame through the opening, holding my arms above my head as I crawled army-style out of it. Sharp pieces of glass poked at my sides, most likely breaking skin, but I didn't care. I was going home.

Straightening my back, and arising from the dirt, the cold hit nipped at my face. I was without a jacket, and without an exact location of my whereabouts, but I was free.

Without a second thought, I ran. I was unsure of which direction to go, but I assumed that I could find someone to help me along the way. I ran and ran, pumping my legs, and urging my body to go faster. I ran until Harry's house was out of sight. I ran for what felt like hours. I was free. I was going home.