EMLYN | 18+

Chapter Two

I had been awake for some time now, though I was smart enough to know that there was a little camera planted in the corner of the room, of all the rooms actually. As a result of that, I refrained from moving, trying my best to act as if I was still sleeping. He liked to replay the footage.

My eyes were trained on him, Samael. My very own angel of death, who threatened to send me to the void abyss if I refused to obey him. His dirty looking copper hair was tousled and I could see his age catching up with him. Frown lines decorated the corners of his mouth and between his forehead making him look even older than the forty-four that he was.

He was disgusting, sleeping with a woman twenty-one years younger than him who he was supposed to consider his niece. To think I grew up calling my captor uncle. That's what got me stuck here in the first place. He was so willing to help, to take me under his wing and care for me. Who would've thought that meant robbing me of everything that was supposed to be sacred.

He stirred and I gently closed my eyes, squinting and stirring as if his movements had woken me up. I settled back into the pillow as if I were going back to sleep and I felt his hand come to caress my cheek, "Good morning, my love. Don't bother waking, just go back to sleep."

I felt him lean over to plant a kiss on the side of my lips before he groaned and removed himself from the bed. I listened as he got ready to start his day, and when I finally heard the front door shut and the alarm beep I stirred once more.

I rolled onto my back, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I stared up at the ceiling. Today was the day. Today was the day. I had to repeat it to myself a couple times just to ensure that my brain registered what I was saying.

It was just a matter of how.

I moved myself to the closet after brushing my teeth and combing through the curly mess on the top of my head. I pulled on a tank top and threw a hoodie over it with some sweatpants. I roamed around the house aimlessly before I moved to make myself some breakfast.

It felt as if he were watching me now, figuring out the little plan in my head like he always did. I felt as if he would come bursting through the door daring me to do what I had planned. My heart was pounding in my throat. By trying my best not to look suspicious, I was pretty much about to give away my entire plan just by thinking.

He would figure it out, he always did. He would come back and I'd get punished. I always did.

My eyes glanced at the knife in my hand as I sliced the green onions I was using for my food. I stayed hunched over, moving my hands even when there was nothing left to cut. I moved forward as if I dropped the knife in the sink, when I actually picked up the one he left covered messily in butter.

I slipped the knife I had into the band of my underwear, tucking it under the tank top and ensuring it was safe. My heartbeat was erratic, as if I was suddenly diagnosed with arrhythmia but I continued as if nothing had changed using the decoy knife and ate my breakfast peacefully for the first time in a long time.

When I was finished and cleaned up, I moved over to the piano he had in the dining room that was too big for one person. So empty, and lifeless. Almost how I felt as I stared at the instrument I once adored. He seemed to turn everything I loved into something I now hated. It was as if the person who I was growing up never existed. There was no memory of her. Nothing except a corpse who walked and talked like a remade version of herself.