How to take a hostage (Johnny Depp fanfiction)

Chapter 6

And again I woke up in a bed which wasn't mine. I was getting used to it. The room was very dark, although it seemed to be day, not night. Looking out of the window was beautiful.

Trees as far as I could look. I liked it. I've never been a city kid. I wanted to leave the room, but the door was locked. A piece of paper was pinned on it:

'Sorry if you wake up and read this, I'm getting some food and stuff, I'll be back soon. x' 

Great, being locked in a room for who-knows-how-long. My imaginations of a hostage were being fulfilled more and more. I guess it was only a bit later when I heard the key at the other side of the door, but it felt as I've been waiting for hours. My arms folded and with a pissed view I looked at him. At first he was confused, but then he started to laugh. Moving out of the way he said "You can go having a shower if you want, I'm gonna make some food."  Nodding I wanted to go to the bath room when I remembered I had only the clothes I was wearing. Oh. That was embarassing. "Uuum, I only have those clothes with me", I countered looking at the ground. "Oh yes, I forgot that, wait you can have some of mine", he went into another room, coming back with a towel, a huge hoody and some jeans. 

Having a shower was great, the water was warm and I felt mentally and physically clean. Wearing his clothes I got out of the room. They smelled a bit like cinnamon, it reminded me of Christmas. "Looks great, dear", he smiled, pointing to the table where I could see roasted potatoes. During the meal he told me he has been buying food for next time, because we were in a large forest and it was difficult to get food here. Wow. Another place where I couldn't escape easily. As if he has read my thoughts he grinned "so you can stay with me a little longer". 

After the meal he asked if I wanted to go out, because I won't get that chance too often. "Sure, why not", I shrugged my shoulders. Outside he he grabbed my hand, adding "I don't want you to run away, darling". Twisting my eyes, I grabbed his hand. It was warm, the complete opposite of my ice cold hands. They were always cold. "You're a fish blood", he grinned, rubbing my hand to warm it. Annoyed I nodded. The walk was good, it was autumn and the leaves were about to turn orange. My favourite season. Talking about this and that, I suddenly asked why he became a robber. Shocked I looked at him, expecting him to flip out. I didn't want to ask that question, it just popped out of my mouth. As usual. "It's okay, I've wondered when you would ask this", he calmed me down.

And then he told me his story. 

About a mother who left and a drunk father. 

About younger brothers he had to care for and a father who bet the hell out of him. 

About school he always missed, because of his family. 

About the desperation, that no one let him work and the need to feed the brothers. 

About a life that had only one possibility left when he was 21. 

I understood. It was the only path he could chose. I felt sorry for him, but didn't want to show it. It would make him angry, I knew it. So I just nodded concerned. Chained in my thoughts I didn't realize we were at the house again. He released my hand. I could feel the cold wind blowing and cooling it down again. I shivered. His sentimental and open mood was over, briskly he opened the door, asking if I'd like some cacao. The cacao and the hoody I was still wearing heat me up again. After the cacao he wanted to shower, so he turned on the TV for me and left the room. I knew I couldn't escape and he knew it as well, so he didn't have to tell me. 

The TV program bored me, so I was wandering through the house. One room was full of books, there were so many book shelves, I've only seen that much in a library yet. With my finger tips I went through the books, looking at the titles. My finger stopped at Ken Follett's 'Pillars of the earth'. Slowly I took it out of shelf, opening it and smelling at the first pages. I loved the smell of books. It told a lot about how it was treated what it has gone through, which tells a lot about the owner as well. 

Suddenly I heard someone clearing his throat. Fast I closed the book and took it back, turning around to him.