Brahms Heelshire ("The boy" fan fiction)

Chapter Nine

Brahms tilted his head to the side, his exposed face made his expressions more readable. I clenched my fists as he walked closer to the bed. "Get away"! I yelled falling off the bed trying to scoot away from him. He didn't listen to me, and tried to help me up. I swatted him away which in turn made him angry. He didn't yell or hurt me but I saw in it his face, he wanted to. "Fine". Was all he said, and he walked out of the room. I sat on the floor for a long time replaying what had just happened in my head. Brahms didn't have any right to be offended by anything, he's ruined me.
~
The days following my attempt at escape were full of sleep and depression. There was no more "schedule" and I haven't done one chore. I never saw Brahms outwardly, but he'd leave trays of food at my door. I never ate them. I wouldn't eat anything he made. I knew he was watching me. That was my punishment, the illusion of being without him. As I thought back about all of the mistakes and regrets I had, my biggest regret was not stabbing Brahms the night he killed Cole. He was a monster and I spared him.

I rubbed my face with my hands and groaned. My stomach growled and gurgled, protesting against my food strike. I rolled over and shoved my face into the blankets. I needed food.

Finally giving into my body, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. The cold wood floor froze my exposed toes as I slowly walked across the room. My door was shut. I placed a shaking hand on the knob and turned and opened the door as quietly as I could. Due to the age of the house everything made a sound. As I walked out of the room and down the hallway, I hoped I wouldn't run into Brahms I wanted to be as far away from him as I could be.

I made it down the steps and almost to the kitchen before I saw Brahms standing in the doorway. Cold sweat began to surface on my face. His mask was off, so I could see every expression he contorted his face into. He seemed angry. I stepped back and instinctively put my hands up. Brahms walked towards me, his hands clenched in fists "Greta get upstairs, now. I never said you could come down here"! My eyes widened, since when was I confined to my room? "Go"! He yelled. Tears welled in my eyes as I ran upstairs and into my room. I slammed the door shut and locked it even though I knew he could come in whenever he wanted.

I buried my face in my hands. I couldn't leave, I couldn't do anything. Misery was all I felt. My stomach was no longer growling. I missed Sandy, I missed home, I missed Malcom.

~

The days became shorter and colder. I grew more and more dead by the day. Nothing excited me anymore. Nothing made me emotional. I was just a piece of flesh.

It was Christmas Eve. I managed to ignore Brahms the whole month of December. Although he still watched me all day, we never spoke to each other and all I did was eat the food he laid out so I wouldn't starve. I wasn't allowed out of my room, therefore I spent a lot of time daydreaming and sleeping. My legs lost their muscles and I lost my energy. This is what he wanted. He wanted me to be helpless. Sheep are easier to control than lions.

I drew shapes on the fogged window of my bedroom. Oblivious of the world around me who were celebrating Christmas with their family friends. My thoughts drifted to Sandy, and then to Malcom. My family. I didn't cry, I had no more tears. I only hated Brahms even more. I decided then, on that night, I wasn't just going to escape, I was going to kill him.
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Sorry for such a crappy chapter. Writer's block is real 🤣🤣 anywhoooo, I hope all of you have a very merry Christmas and a happy holiday!!! Thank you again for reading..... I'm hoping to speed up the book a little now that Greta has a new plan!
-Ri