K Caverly - Shards of Us

After a few minutes, I slump to the ground, defeated. My body crumples up. I'm hurt and aching and I can barely see my own hands, and all I remember is the look in Sebastian's eyes when he told me to save Ash, the look of a true fear.

I loved him. I cared for him. I trusted him.

And look what he did.

He… he knocked me unconscious. He held a gun to my head.

I thought he wanted me too. But he almost killed me… and now he's just gone. I don't know where he is. It occurs to me then that I don't even know where I am, or why I'm here, or even who brought me here. Was it Sebastian? Did he lock me up? Did he bring me here just so he could kill me like he killed those men?

And then another thought hits me: what if it wasn't Sebastian who captured me? What if it was those men who he said were after him, the ones who would've given Ash something worse than death? What if they killed Sebastian and now they're here for me?

I bury my head in my hands. Oh god oh god. I can't die yet. I can't die. I take it back. I want my life. I want my crappy job and annoying friend. I want my loneliness. Anything is better than this. My eyes feel hot and puffy from the tears, but I keep letting them slip out, tasting their bitter saltiness, the unmistakable feel of defeat.

I'm done.

It's over.

I'm locked in here with no food or water.

I am never going to get out alive.

The defeat rushes in quickly and painfully. I'm going to die here. I'm going to die alone and the dark. No one is here, no one is coming to save me. There is no way I'll make it.

I crumple up, crying harder, when I realize it. My throat is as dry as it is raw, but my hair and body feel clean and soft… I sit up suddenly.

My whole body is clean . I smell like soap--that's what I was smelling! My hair feels newly wet and my skin is cool and relaxed, like I'd just gotten out of the shower.

But I didn't take a shower.

Then, I look down. I realize I'm wearing a dress. Not just any dress, but the black dress I didn't wear the night of what happened to Ash. My heart pounds faster. I feel for my lips. I'm wearing lipstick again too, but there's no way my lipstick stayed intact the whole night. Which means…

Someone showered and dressed me.

The thought makes my stomach churn and more tears come to my eyes. There's only one reason I can think of for someone to dress me like this, and the result is not pretty.

My body quivers. I don't know what's happening. I don't know why I'm here. All I know is that I just want to leave, with my life intact.

I haven't felt this hopeless in two years.

I wake up to the sound of the shower running. My eyes shoot open right away.

A shower.

Someone else is here.

I look around desperately for the sound as soon as I sit up in bed, until I finally pinpoint it as coming from the small bathroom off to the side I saw earlier. I stand up, but my legs still feel weak. I realize then that there's a blanket around me. I know for a fact I didn't leave it there. The room is cold, though, and the blanket feels nice and warm against my skin, as if whoever put it there was actually doing me a favor.

I throw the blanket off of me as soon as the thought crosses my mind.

I'm not an idiot. I know all about Stockholm Syndrome. It's sure as hell not happening to me.

So I stand up. My body is still shaking, but at least I can walk without stumbling now. I take one small step after another toward the open door and the sound of the shower, the cool tile making the toes on my bare feet curl. I try to breathe evenly, to open and close my eyes and focus on the light streaming out of the bathroom, to do anything but let this fear that's clinging to me take over.

Someone is definitely here, and that someone may be my one key to getting out of this place, whatever it is.

My head throbs as I make my way over, but I ignore it, focusing on each of my tiny steps instead, on making sure I don't make a sound as I move across the room. Finally, I reach the wall beside the open door, and I stop, catch a breath. My heart is pounding again. I don't even know what I'm doing--I most certainly don't have a plan--but I know I need to get out of here. I can't be locked up like this. I can't be dead.

I have to go home. I have to tell the police what happened. I have to--

I look down, searching for anything to use as a weapon. I don't know who locked me up here, but I'm certain they're dangerous. My eyes lock on an empty plate left outside of the bathroom. I pick it up slowly, careful not to make a sound, and I inch along the wall until I'm just beside the open door where the yellow light pours out of.

I take a deep breath, holding up the plate in attack position. The shower is still running, but I can't hear anyone in there. I hesitate. What if they overpower me? What if this gets me killed? What if it doesn't well?

I push away the thought immediately, because for all I know, this is my only chance at freedom. It's now or never.

My heart races as I lift up the plate, turn into the open door, and charge the shower. I burst through the curtains, prepared to hit whoever over the head with the plate, but no one is there. The shower is empty.

My stomach drops. My chest heaves. I take in one last defeated breath, and I'm about to collapse into the corner and cry some more, cry for being so stupid and foolish, when I hear the click of a gun behind me.

I whirl around, and every muscle in my body freezes at once.

A gun.

Trained on me.

My body has already started shaking as I turn to see what is going on, praying whoever it is doesn't kill me in the process. What I find instead hurts more than anything in the world.

"Care for a drink, angel?" Sebastian says in his usual singsong voice. The rage courses through me as soon as I meet his gaze. He is still wearing his business suit, his jaw newly-shaven, his grin huge and toothy. One hand holds a gun pointed at my head, while the other holds out a champagne glass for me.

Sebastian.

Sebastian is here.

He locked me up, and now he looks like he wants to kill me.

I want to scream. To cry. How could I be so fucking moronic? How could I fall for someone who would do this to me? How come once I feel even the slightest bit of happiness, it all goes to hell?

"Take it," Sebastian says, moving the wine glass closer, but I refuse to take it. My hand whips out and before I know what's happening, I knock the glass out of his hand and it goes flying, smashing against the bathroom wall, shattering into a million pieces.

"That works too," he says, looking at the glass with amusement, but I'm not even listening. My whole body shakes.

"You bastard!" I scream despite myself, tears burning into my eyes. "I trusted you! And look what you do! You betray me!" My throat is still sore, but it feels good to let it all out, even if the only result is my voice breaking out into a fit of coughs.

Sebastian's blue eyes are fiery and passionate at my words. "Betray you?" he roars. "I fucking saved you, angel!" He reaches out his free hand to grab my arm. I try to struggle out of his grip, but he's too strong and he doesn't let go. His eyes burn into mine, anger and intensity rushing out of him. "What do you think those men would have done to you if they caught you? Because let me tell you, they sure as hell wouldn't have let you off scot free. They were after you, angel! They were after both of us! I brought you here to save you!"

I shake my head slowly back and forth, not believing it. The trembles keep on coming. "There's no reason for them to come after me," I whisper. This can't be real. None of this can be real. Sebastian would never do this to me. Sebastian would never lock me up like this.