Captive{ated}

Eleven: Delusion

The next few days were strained and monotonous to say the least. You didn't say much when you were around, and naturally I wasn't in the mood to talk to you much either. It wouldn't have taken much for another fight to break out between us. We were walking on ice, breaking, cracking.

Everything was.

I was angry at your proposal, but more than that, I was worried. I had so much time to reflect on the night of your proposal, and the more I thought about some of the things you said, the more anxious I became. It was almost as if you didn't want to propose yet but felt pushed to. Sure you were hopeful at first, but rather than simply accept my rejection and try again later, you were desperate.

And I don't think it was because you were impatient.

You did, however, say that others were.

It was almost as if that by trying to persuade me to say yes, you were trying to protect me. It wasn't as much for you as it was for me.

But maybe I was just crazy. Maybe it was just you growing impatient with me. Maybe you were being dramatic, making up details to deceive me into marrying you. All I knew was that I refused to be tricked into doing something I really did not want to do, no matter how many times you asked.

Even when you asked me the same question every night for over a week, becoming less romantic and more and more desperate each time you did so. Promising you wouldn't hurt me. Confessing your devotion for me. Pleading perilously for my hand. Saying no and thinking of ways to reject you was exhausting.

I didn't understand your hasty need for my approval. If you really planned to keep me here for the rest of my life, what was your hurry? Why couldn't you just take a no for its worth? Not only that, but why ask at all? You were already forcing me to be here against my will. So many things did not make sense.

On the tenth day you asked me, though, I finally got the answer to my questions. You did not return from your daily tasks alone. Issac followed closely behind you, a shadow. Seeing him chilled me, making my resolve shrink and wilt like a flower in a frost. The last I saw him, he gave you permission to drug me. He smiled with so much pride as I panicked and became so weak I passed out in your arms. Though he appeared a hearty warm man on the outside with his ever present smile and eyes the same as yours, I knew he was not who he appeared to be.

Still, it was strange being by anyone but you. In any other situation, it would have been nice, but your father was the exception. I regretted not staying in my room but hiding wouldn't have saved me. "Evelyn," he pronounced, "how good it is to see you."

I stood from my seat on the couch very defensive. You locked the door behind you and your father. In this meeting, I didn't have to play the role of the perfect significant other for someone's child. No, when it came to Issac, civility was replaced with hostility. I crossed me arms, "I wish I could say the same about you."

This earned a good laugh from him, but I could tell from your expression, this wasn't good. This visit wasn't one made lightheartedly. "You're feistier than when we first met," he commented. "I actually like that. It's amusing."

"I'm glad to entertain," I said sarcastically.

"Evelyn," you spoke coming closer to me. You said only my name but there was so much meaning in it. There was warning in your voice, but there wasn't animosity. I think you didn't want me to get myself in more trouble than I was already in. I eyed you closely as you neared. Your movements weren't like that of a predator moving in on its prey. You were putting yourself between Issac and me, a barrier.

Heeding your warning, I bit back another retort. Perhaps Issac was the last person I wanted to anger. You wouldn't touch me no matter how much I antagonized you. Him, however, I wasn't so sure about. Being brave and being stupid are sometimes so similar that they are difficult to distinguish from each other.