I was truly fearful. Something that I wasn't when I first woke up. Sure I was scared then, but what I was now is different. I am shook to my core. He didn't want ransom, or to kill me. I was being subjected to a fate possibly worse than death. If I did not find a way to escape this man, I would be forced to live with him till the day I die. No real life, no real happiness, no real anything, and no jollof. Just day in, and day out. Pretending to love him. Probably forced to do things with him. I would rather die. And if I do, I'll take him with me. As booboo the fool ranted about our life together and how spectacular it would be, I raged internally. He's literally out of his damn mind. I'd feel bad for him if there weren't victims of his insanity. We walked through the corridor and up a set of stairs. It seems I was in the basement. How original. As I emerged I was almost breathless. I would smile if I wasn't here as the result of a kidnapping. Actually, that's not true, I couldn't even remember the last time I genuinely smiled. Still, you get the idea. Light streamed in from massive windows at each end of the hallway, illuminating the cream painted walls. Under my feet was a long rug that stretched the span of the long hallway floor, it was a pale brown with intricate black designs. The moron gestured for me to follow him and I did, as I followed him through the house he began to give me a tour as if I was moving in willingly. When we reached the kitchen I stopped him. It had granite counter tops that made me want to cry. I contemplated buying the house to spite him after I escaped, but then I decided to just burn it down instead.. In the meantime I would not deal with his bullshit on an empty stomach and if I was going to be forced to tolerate him until I figured out a way to escape, I'd need the energy.
"I'm hungry." I declared.
"I see you've decided to speak for the first time excluding when avoiding punishment. See, you're already comfortable here. I told you this would be-" Oh. my. god. Does he ever shut the fuck up?
"- Yeah yeah sure now can I eat?" I interrupted flatly. His eyes narrowed and he walked to the fridge. I made sure to follow in case he tried to spike the food.
"Is pasta okay?" I thought to myself that whatever he had was probably grossly under seasoned since his trifling ass was too busy stalking to learn to cook, but food is food.
"Yes."
As he retrieved the box of leftovers I wondered if he had pre-poisoned it yesterday.
"Will you eat with me?" I asked slyly, narrowing my eyes.
"No darling, I'm full." Ugh gag me.
"But couples eat together. We aren't going to be a real couple?" I fake pouted.
" Just because we aren't eating together now doesn't mean we aren't a real couple my heart, how about next time?" He answered tenderly. Hmm probably because by next time I'll be as doped up as you. Not gonna happen. I began tearing up.
"YOU SAY YOU LOVE ME BUT YOU'VE NEVER MET ME BEFORE, AND NOW YOU WON'T EAT WITH ME? IT'S ALL LIES. I DON'T BELIEVE YOU! TAKE ME HOME!" I yelled hysterically with fake tears flowing from my eyes. This man really thought he was the only crazy one in the house. A stellar performance really. I need an oscar. I hoped he'd reconsider the whole thing upon realizing I wasn't exactly mentally stable, yet to my dismay he picked up the pot and quickly dished out another smaller helping into a new bowl. He looked frantic. I let the tears stop flowing and they dried almost immediately as I grew frustrated.
"Love no, don't think like that. I love you. I promise. Let's eat." he cooed. There's a difference between love, and obsession or want. Very very rarely do they intersect, if ever. I rolled my eyes realizing manipulating him was going to be harder than I thought. I waited for him to take a forkful first, then slowly drew my own fork to my mouth with my eyes narrowed. To my surprise, the sauce was seasoned well. Interesting. I cut my eyes at him.
"Did you make this?" I questioned snarkily. I figured at least if he could cook I'd have a personal chef until I offed him.
"No, my friend did."
"Does he have a name?" I inquired, assuming he was referring to the voice from earlier.
"The names of other men do not concern you." He bit back. Whatever. I rolled my eyes for the millionth time. He attempted to resume the conversation.
"What if I'm a lesbian? " I asked in the middle of his sentence. He looked at me and decided he wanted me without even knowing if I liked dick. How did he think that would work?
"That just means you hadn't found the right man yet before. Now that you've met me, I am your orientation. Does the house please you?" I looked at him like he was absolutely batshit crazy. Not only was I positive that's not how sexuality works, I was also positive nothing he did could please me because I liked my own house and my old life better than anything he could give me. I continued to eat silently. I was already a very quiet and cold person, so giving this man the silent treatment when I didn't need information was very easy. After a few more unanswered questions, a bowl crashed against the wall behind me, the red sauce oozing down and making for a great Halloween horror scene. Without flinching I continued wolfing down my pasta and he glared at me as if I stole his firstborn child. Aw. How sad. I was at my limit with his bitch ass. No more fake niceties.
"Have you finished your little tantrum?" I remarked after finishing my pasta ten minutes later while he stared. He didn't reply and continued to glare. I shrugged and walked off to find possible escape routes. Suddenly I felt fingers close around my neck as I was slammed against a wall. The pictures and painting surrounding me crashed to the floor as my airways closed. Slowly I was gasping to find air but there was none. I was fading quickly, choking as my temples pounded, but I made sure my eyes never lost their hatred.
"Do it. Kill me. I'd rather die than be with you....." I mouthed out. From the corner of my eye I spotted my fork an inch away on the counter. I reached as far I could and finally gripped onto it and aimed for his stomach. To avoid being fully impaled he dropped both of us to the floor and when I tried to run my leg was pulled from under me. I crashed once again. So close!
"For the last time! You are not going ANYWHERE! I did everything you're supposed to do. The doting, glorification and obsession. I have tried to be accommodating and loving but you continue to be a fucking brat! I'm sick of it! That ain't me. If you hated me so much before, you're in for a real treat now that the real me is out. You are going to be mine no matter what you do, and that's just facts. Dead or alive. I get what I want. You aren't the exception. I'm going to work now. My friend will watch you to make sure you don't get any ideas", he boomed. I looked at him with an expression that could only be interpreted as two words. Fuck. Off.
"Well technically he can't stop me from getting the ideas, just executing them, but go off I guess."
"Shut up. I will be back soon to finish this."
I ignored him and the idiot had snatched me for the third time and attempted to plant a kiss on me. I curved my neck so far it cracked. I decided then and there to kill him, but just as I lunged my hands forward to choke him, my hand was caught. He quickly said goodbye and ran out the door.
"Yeah you better run, pussy! Cuz if I catch you, I will stab you."
"Are you done glaring holes into the door now? It's been almost ten minutes. " a voice echoed from behind me, I turned quickly to see a man leaning against the back door frame. Oh great, thing two. He was extremely tall, towering over me at more than six feet and four inches, which was upsetting because it took away my edge of being unusually tall for a woman at five foot ten inches. He was definitely younger than the other man too, dressed casually in sweats and slides. His skin was dark brown like mine but half a fenty shade darker, almost Asante's shade, and his hair was cut with the sides buzzed a little and a smidge of kinky hair left to grow on top, a straighter hairline could not be seen for miles. I narrowed my eyes. His face was built so his resting expression was stoic, all sharp edges with cheekbones that could cut glass. He looked like a statue.
"You must be the friend I've heard so much about. " I replied coldly, shifting my glare to him.