The Butterfly Thieves

Chapter Three

When I opened my eyes, Thomas was patting my head with something. Once I started to get feeling back, I felt it stinging me, burning me a bit. "Ouch," I said, flinching.

"I know, Milly, it hurts, but we have to take care of this wound."

It was harder for me to move now, even moving my eyes resulted in my headache getting bigger and bigger, so I just laid there, letting him do what he wanted. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Milly, how is your head feeling?"

"Hurts," I groaned.

"I bet. That was a nasty fall."

"What are you putting on my head?"

He sighed. "Hydrogen peroxide, you cut your head a little bit towards the forward. You were bleeding for ten minutes, but it was under control. Nothing too bad, but you're going to need aspirin soon."

"I'm not taking anything you give me," I told him.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he spoke in such a soft voice that you could believe him.

"Why am I here?"

He took the cloth and squeezed it out into what sounded like a bowl. "You're here because I believe you're a good person. And with good influences, you can be an even better person."

I opened my eyes enough to glare at him. "That's shit."

He just smiled. "How do you feel, Milly?"

"Are you really a therapist."

"Yes, I am."

"Fuck," I said, closing my eyes. I just groaned and grabbed the pillow next to me, putting it over my head. My body was able to move more than before, but my head was killing me from the fall. "What are you going to do with me? I might as well know. I saw your face, I know your name . . .are you going to . . .you know?"

He shook his head. "I'm just here to help you, I just want you to be happy."

"I'll be happy if you let me go."

"Okay," he sighed. "After you get better. I'm not keeping you forever, I will let you go sooner than you think. I always do, I promise. I even have references. That was a joke, learn to laugh Milly. I want you to be healthy, how about that?"

"You don't even know me," I said, taking the pillow off my face, but still refusing to look at him.

"I've been watching you for a few months, and I can tell you, I know more about you than you think."

I shot him a look. "That's sick."

"I'm going to get aspirin and food. Wait here," he said, getting up, and heading out the door. Even if I wanted to escape and run away from him, my body felt like it had been beaten down and run over by a semi-truck.

When he came back, he had a bowl of brown rice that looked like it just came out of a microwave and some aspirin. "Here you go," he said handing me the pills.

He just smiled and gave me a water bottle to wash down the pills. Even if it knocked me out, I didn't care. I wanted to go back to sleep. Once I swallowed the pills, he took back the water bottle and took a seat in the old office chair.

Taking the bowl of rice, he started to swirl it around like the soup from earlier. "You have to eat, or you'll get sick."

"Maybe I'll get sick and throw up all over you."

"Wouldn't be the first time," he laughed.

I thought about it for a second. "You said you've done this before? How many times?"