A Few Weeks Ago
Run. Run. Run. Those were the only thoughts going through my head. My escape was imminent, and I could feel it. All I had left to do was pack the rest of my belongings, put them in the car and escape. Suddenly, the door was slammed open, which caused my heart to skip a beat as I froze and silently prayed. I prayed to whoever was listening that it isn't him because if it is, I'm doomed. A sigh broke from the person's mouth, letting me know it wasn't him. I resumed my packing. The voice went on, saying, "You know he's eventually going to find you, right?"
"I know, but at least I'll have the resources to prepare myself better, and if the worst comes to the worst, I'll just end my life."
"Is it really worth it?" the voice asked, then continued to say, "He'll find you; eventually, he always does."
And then I became angry. I turned and looked at Jake, my only friend, in this hell and asked, "So should I just let myself die slowly because he is infatuated with me? I want to live Jake and live life as a normal mundane person" and I wiped away the tears on my face that I hadn't even realized had fallen. His gaze then suddenly changed from its original blank cold stare to one filled with sympathy and pity, which caused me to look away. I was not too fond of that look that I got from him, the maids, and butlers around the compound, but at this moment in time, I decide to use it to my advantage.
So I plead, "Let me go, Jake, please."
"You know I can't do that, Jessi," he replies with a look of contrition and a nickname that I haven't heard in God knows how long, which brought a wave of nostalgia. But still, I persevere and beg, "Please, Jake, let me go, let me live," and for a minute, I see him waver. I think he'll grant my request, but he finally sighs as he shakes his head. Seeing I know this would be my only chance to escape, so I muster up all my anger and tell him, "Let me go, Jake or God, so help me, I'll kill myself." The look of sympathy he had on vanished from his face and was once again replaced with that cold blank stare that could freeze hell. He then cooly assess my body posture and language and says with confidence, "You wouldn't," then delicately lifts an eyebrow in the provocation.