Jane and Jeff the Killer

Chapter Three

I've been waiting in this room for a while now. I can't hear any sounds. You'd think for as old as this house seems you'd hear something. Right? Oh who knows.

The moon outside lets in just the faintest amount of light, so I can at least see some of what the room had to offer. There's a closet, but no door. I can't see inside, it's too dark for that. This room isn't nearly as clean as the one downstairs. There's dust everywhere I can see, floating in the moon beams flowing in from outside. The wallpaper is starting to peel, and the plaster and boards underneath are starting to splinter and crumble. The floor has carpeting, but it looks dingy. Probably molded. The ceiling has a few water spots, and places where it's starting to sag. Great. I can make out a painting on the other side. It's not old, but it's not well kept either.

I don't see anything around except maybe a sharp piece of wood that might cut my bindings. I think if I reach my leg out just far enough and kick a shoe off I can get it. I stretch my leg out, shoe lying on the floor. I make an attempt to grab it, but instead I end up shoving it farther away. Damn.
Out of the quietness I start to hear noise penetrating from below. I can't make out what it is. The sound grows nearer, sounding as if it's coming up the stairs. Jeff. I didn't know he listened to music, let alone any like this. I should reevaluate my musical tastes since he prefers the same heavy metal as I do. Maybe I'll convert to classical or something.

The door opens. I was expecting him, but it still made me jump a little. He holds out his hand, a plate full of food. A sandwich, some chips, and an apple. I feel like a kindergartner at lunch. Great.

"What's on the sandwich?" That's the only thing I ask. I might as well eat while I can, it might be quite some time before my next meal, and I don't want to get sick.

"It's just peanut butter and jelly. I don't have much else." He says looking down. I can see he looks a little ashamed, but because of the incisions he made on his face, he cannot frown. Only smile.

"How am I supposed to eat it. I'm not an animal." I'm trying to coax him into possibly removing my bindings.

"I'll feed you. I don't need you attacking me again." This time his smile was bigger, and he gave a chuckle. Odd.

I don't say anything, I glare at him and nod. I actually allow him to feed me. He's gentle about it though. Like a mother tending to her sick child. Why? Why doesn't he slam it into my face? Why is he treating me so well. I've done nothing but try to harm him, and yet he still is treating me with this weird kindness. What did he suddenly grow a heart?

My contemplation is interrupted by him, "So I'm guessing you're wondering why you're here." His face turned away from mine, his stare met at the window with a crow I hadn't noticed before. Thinking too much probably.

"That's not the only thing I'm wondering." I finish my bite, and sneer at him. I refuse his offer of more food. I'm satisfied with his disgusting meal. It's enough to keep me strong.

"I saved you. If I can understand... Or even believe me.. I'm not what you think I am. I want you to see that. See me... And I guess if that means by doing it this way, having you bound in a room, well so be it." His reasoning, he's speaking... I can't place it. This is not at all what I expected from a psychotic freak. Mr. Go To Sleep. Before I can make a remark, he lays the plate down beside me. Promises he'll bring more food later, and leaves. Damn.

Maybe if I smash the plate, grab a piece and cut my bindings. I turn around as best as possible to get a grip on the plate. It's plastic. Of course it's plastic, why would he dare leave me with glass. I've also noticed the wood on the floor is farther away. I hear my stomach start to rumble, and a hot sensation. I need to use the bathroom. I'll be damned if I go in my underwear. Maybe he didn't think this all the way through.

I muster up enough courage to yell for him, "Jeff! Jeff! Oh Jeff! Mr. Go To Sleep!" I hope that was enough to get his attention.