Sadistically Sweet (Watty Awards Finalist 2012)

Secrets Revealed

Two weeks. Two long, dreadful weeks past before I finally got alone time. That meant I had to deal with Francis's antics for fourteen days until I found the right moment to run away.

It was well past midnight, but my eyes were still wide open. I rarely got much sleep over the last couple of weeks. Every night I laid awake as long as possible; trying to slip away. With no prevail, I waited. Some nights Francis would sneak out of bed, but was back too soon for me to make a break for it. Other nights he would hold me so tight that I thought I would suffocate. 

No matter how much I stood up against his stunts, he didn't seem to understand. His delusion was so thick that he couldn't see how much obviously I hated him. I had even yelled it to his face and he still didn't seem to understand. I should have pushed him away more forcefully, but the first few days I was still too traumatized of him to do much. 

It turned out he didn't just have one 'gift' for me on my birthday, but two. Apparently, he didn't believe in abstinence before marriage either. I should have known that the first time he took me to his bed, but I just didn't expect him to torture me again so soon. 

I cried the second time. I don't know what he thought about it, but it didn't make him stop. In the beginning I tried fighting back, but he was ruthless. His normally gentle touch was replaced with a rough, hurtful one. 

That night I tried running away, but I was unable to. Not only was I physically exhausted, but also emotionally and mentally unstable. With all my will power I still couldn't muster enough force to pull myself out of his cold grasp. Another night spend in his arms.

Those two weeks dragged by with a pace I never knew possible. I thought the last month was slow, but waiting for escape gave slow a new meaning. Tonight, though, I would have my chance.

I awoke from a short soundless sleep to find Francis no where in sight. To be safe, I waited half an hour until I found the courage to slid out from under the covers. In the back of my mind I was afraid he would pull me back into the darkness, but I knew he wasn't even in the room.

I crept slowly and as silently as humanly possible to the closed door. My heart just about pounded out of my chest as I placed my hand to the cold know and turned. This was too easy so far, he had to be waiting outside the door for me; ready to take me back in at a second's notice.

Yet, when I opened the door, I was met with welcoming darkness. Well, I shouldn't say welcoming, more like threatening. I couldn't see but an arm's length in front of my face, though it was enough. 

I slid my bare feet across the wooden floor, holding myself against the wall as if walking on a ledge. Metaphorically, I was on a ledge. If I stepped off the ledge then I would fall back into my worst nightmare, but if I stayed on path then I would find freedom. It was a small beam of lightness in the dark that enveloped me since the moment I was carried in through that door.

Now that I think of it, how I was brought into this house was almost symbolic. Francis carried me over the threshold like newly weds do. Could he have planned this all along? Had he already known he would propose from the moment he took me? Did he plan on it being me or was I just a random piece he stuck into his puzzle? 

So many thoughts clouded my mind that I almost didn't notice a drastic change in the hall since this morning. The fourth door had a small stream of moonlight trickling through a crack. No, not a crack; the door was open ajar. 

This simple difference caused me to come to a sudden halt. Could what be in that room answer my questions? Did I want to possibly give up my escape to sneak around a room? 

I glance back towards the staircase. Could one peek really hurt so bad? I knew the answer was yes, but I couldn't hold back my curiosity. That door and room had been taboo since I glanced at it. I just had to know what was inside.