There's been many days before this one that I've claimed to be the worst of my life.
The day I lost my favourite doll in the playground after school.
The day my first crush started dating another girl from our class.
The day we lost my mom and pop pop, altho that one still holds true.
But if I had to pick a day that could compete with that one, today would be it.
When Jamie left, I continued to pointlessly fight for freedom. The ropes rubbed against my wrists so badly that they bled, but I didn't stop trying. I figured if I could get loose that I could somehow kick the door down, but I couldn't get the ropes to budge. And with the little strength I then had left, I certainly couldn't kick that door down.
After I had exhaused myself, I ended up in a heap on the floor, crying into the emptiness. The cloth Jamie sealed into my mouth made it impossible to do much else. I tried to scream, but it was so muffled that I doubt I'd even be heard inside the apartment, never mind outside it. I was also afraid that if I kept taking in sharp breaths to try and yell, that I'd suck the cloth in further, so I had to give up on that too.
Now I find myself wishing that Jamie would come home early. As much as I can't stand the idea of him coming back here, there's not a soul in the world who knows I'm here besides him.
I know that Will won't risk calling or messaging me, but Annie or Sarah might, and if either of them mention Will while Jamie has my phone, it's going to make things so much worse for me. It's hard to imagine how that could happen, but that's a talent of Jamie's, he always finds a way to make it so.
I should have told Will I'd call him today. Or that I'd see him somehow. I know he'd become suspicious right away if he didn't hear from me. I know he'd try to find me. I swear to god if I get out of this, I'll never do a single thing without a back up plan again.
I torture myself with all of the things that might happen as I lay on the floor. Afraid to close my eyes incase I fall asleep and choke. Afraid to move too much incase the rope cuts into my wrists anymore than it has. Afraid of what else is coming my way.
My only concept of time comes from watching the light under the door way like I did last night. It goes from bright to dim, and then I hear some rain falling against the window of our bedroom. I lie watching the shadows so long that my body aches from only having the cold floor to cushion it.
My mind runs wild throughout the time that passes, imagining the worst.
I picture Jamie crashing his car. I have to fight off thoughts of him lying in a ditch or a hospital somewhere, unable or unwilling to tell anyone that I'm here.
I wonder if he'll just decide not to come back at all. Will he leave me to rot here?
I long for him to come home, hour after hour. If he does, I'll do whatever he asks to keep him from doing this to me again. The mental torment of being here feels much worse than the punches he threw yesterday.
Eventually, after feeling like it's been days, all traces of daylight begin to fade away from the crack under the door, and I settle into the darkness.
Where is he?
♾️
My eyes feel heavy as I battle to stay awake. But they snap wide open when I finally hear the front door of the apartment close, swiftly followed by footsteps coming toward the bedroom.
Jamie is in such a rush to get to me that I can hear the key shake as it hits the barrel.
Flicking on the light, he hastily pulls open the door, physically flinching when he gets a look at me. My forehead has been weeping trickles of blood all day, it's streaked the floor wherever I lay, and has likely left bloodstains down my face too.
Rushing to me, he attempts to pull me upright. I cry out to him through the gag and tape, hoping he understands that I need him to remove it.
"Okay, it's alright," he says, "calm down, I'm going to take it off okay?"
Jamie rests my body against the side of the toilet and starts to pull at the tape. The glue has burnt my skin, and I feel it come away with the tape in some places, but the relief of feeling it all loosen is the only thing I focus on.
"One more layer," his voice soothes, "nearly there..."
Jamie pulls the last of the tape from around my head, taking clumps of hair with it before taking the final piece away from my mouth, allowing me to spit the cloth out.
I suck in the air so hard that it hurts my throat and makes me cough.
"Shhh shh, it's alright, take it slow," he says, stroking my hair like I'm a small child. I know it shouldn't, but after being left here all day, it comforts me somehow. Tears fall heavily as I beg him not to leave me like that again.
"Where were you?," I cry, "Why were you gone so long?"
"I got held up, I came back as soon as I could."
He continues to run is hands over my hair as I clutch at him with the tips of my fingers through the rope, weeping into his shoulder.
"Don't go. Don't leave me here again, please Jamie, I'm begging you! Don't do that to me again."
Pressing his forehead to mine, he does his best to sooth me. "Don't worry. Everything's fine Iz, I'm here."
I clutch his hands, keeping him close, terrified that he'll leave again. As he rubs his thumb over my fingers, he notices the damp coating on the rope. Leaning back, he takes a looks down at my wrists, pressing his mouth into a fine line.
"I warned you not to fight it," he says, "Now look at what you did."
"Can you take them off? I won't do anything, I swear."
He looks to be fighting some sort of battle in his mind before he moves back away from me towards the bedroom.
"Wait! Where are you going?" I cry, making a desperte attempt to follow him, but I'm met only with the resistance of the rope.
"Relax, I just need to get something to cut that off of you, I'll leave the door open."
I move as close as I can to the doorway as he steps away, I'd do just about anything right now to get to the other side of it. Kneeling up like some sort of chained animal, I wait for him to get back. He talks to me the whole time he's gone, explaining how his meeting ran late and that he couldn't leave any sooner. His voice gets louder as he makes his way back to the bathroom. He brings a scissors and a wet towel with him, along with the little first aid kit from under the sink.
"Let's clean your face up first," he says.
Crouching down infront of me, Jamie carefully wipes away the blood and streaks of tears before gently dabbing the gash above my eye too.
"I think we have some paper stitches in here somewhere," he says.
Flipping open the lid of the first aid kit, he quickly finds what he's looking for. As he's placing the stitches over the cut, he takes extra care not to hurt me with his touch. You'd almost swear it wasn't his hands that did this in the first place.
Once he's done with that, he takes the scissors, snipping just once and slowly unraveling the rope from around my wrists.
"Jesus Izzy, what were you trying to do? Take your hands off?"
I wasn't expecting things to look so bad. It didn't feel like it was doing so much damage at the time. The skin around my wrists is completely raw, the shiney pink wounds look like they were on fire from how bad the rope has burnt me, with puss starting to ooze from the open sores.
Jamie wipes both wrists down with some antibacterial rub, its stings, but I'll have it over the ropes any day.
It takes awhile, and half a roll of bandage, but he does a good job of cleaning things up. Closing up the first aid kit, he sits back onto the floor across from me, leaning his head back against the wall and exhaling a loud breath.
As if he suddenly remembers something, he pulls my phone from his pocket.
"I checked your calendar today," he says. "I saw that you were supposed to work at the school tomorrow. I assume I don't need to call them to explain why you won't be there?"
"No, they know I'm not coming."
"Alright. There was nothing else in there for the week, but is there anyone else I need to contact?"
"Nobody," I tell him, "that was all I had scheduled."
"I hope that's the truth Izzy," he says, holding my gaze.
I stare back at him unnerved, and too worn out to have to convince him. He can choose to believe me or not, I really don't care.
Moving on, Jamie tells me that Sarah tried to call me earlier. I keep my look of indifferance, but inside I feel as though my stomach is twisting itself into knots.
"I messaged her back for you," he says, "I told her you were up to your eyes at work."
Clearly he did a good job pretending to be me, otherwise she'd have arrived here all guns blazing by now.
"For all intents and purposes, your phone would make anyone believe you have a pretty boring life Izzy," Jamie notes. "There wasn't a single thing in here except for those emails."
I can only hope that fact works in my favour.
"Theres no tickets, no flight details, no indication at all that you planned to go anywhere. Had you been smart enough to delete the emails, you'd probably be gone by now, right?"
"I hadn't quite figured it out yet," I say, "there was no real plan."
"That's what I thought... well, that or somebody else had done all of the organising for you."
I keep my composure as best I can, I don't want to give anything away about my real plans with Will. "Like I said, I hadn't planned anything."
He places the phone down on the floor beside him, taking me at my word.
"You hungry?" he asks, "I'm going to order a pizza."
"Um, yeah, I should eat."
I'm confused by how unbelievably grateful I feel that he came back, and that he seems to be somewhat kinder now too. I know I hate him, I know it, but god I'll do everything I can to keep him in this room with me so that I don't have to go through today again.
After ordering the pizza, Jamie sits and talks to me about his day like he didn't just have me tied up in here for hours. His meeting with his client went well, and thats why it ran late. Afterward his father wanted to hammer out some details before their trip on friday. I'm in no way curious to know what his plan for me will be by then, although by that stage at least people will notice I'm missing.
I take advantage of every second that he wants to chat with me, asking more questions and getting him to explain things that I normally wouldn't care less about. I'm worried that if I don't, he'll leave.
When the delivery guy calls to let him know that he's downstairs, I beg him to leave the door open while he goes, promising not to move. I can see him debate it, but ultimately he decides he can't take the chance, and he locks me in again, promising to come back.
I have to close my eyes the whole time he's gone, counting aloud in fours. I think he's only gone a couple of minutes, but it's hard to explain how short that is to the tightening feeling in my chest.
"See, I told you I wouldn't be long," he chirps happily as he returns.
I inhale the pizza the moment it's put infront of me. I didn't realise how hungry I was until I smelled it.
Every now and again as we eat, I look up to find Jamie staring at me. He looks almost happy as he sits there against the door frame, munching away and sipping the beer that he grabbed from the fridge.
"Do you remember the pizza we got that time we went to that vegan place?" he asks. His mention of it actually makes me laugh a little.
"The one they cut the middle out of and replaced with salad?"
"It was awful right?" He chuckles to himself.
"It was your fault," I say, "you wanted to go. I told you that you wouldn't like it, but you just had to try the new place everyone was talking about."
He laughs so hard that his beer catches against his breath. "God, I was starving after we left."
"Well, you know how it goes. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes."
He rolls his eyes at me, a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. Only for the fact we're sitting on a bathroom floor that still has my blood on it, you'd think this was like any old evening between us.
Wiping sauce from his hands onto his trousers, Jamie lets out a sigh. "It's strange," he says, "this is the most honest I've felt you've been with me in forever Izzy. I really wish we could have always been like this."
He tilts his head slightly, allowing a small smile to settle on his face, as if he's remembering a better time. But he's only fooling himself, because there wasn't a better time, just one where I was willing to take his temper.
"I've been wondering all day how we managed to get here Iz," he says. "This whole thing is a mess."
Whatever has Jamie softening and opening up like this has given me a slight oppertunity. He's easier to talk to now, and much more open to discussion.
"It's not too late to fix it Jamie," I tell him. "There is a way back from this. You can let me go, I won't open my mouth about any of it."
"But you'll still leave?"
How do you break up with someone while they're holding you hostage? If I tell him I'll stay, he's going to know that I'm only saying it to get out of here. But if I tell the truth, maybe he'll appreciate the honesty he claims to be after.
"Neither of us deserve this anymore Jamie. Don't you want to be with somebody that's in it with you?"
Jamie stares off into space, his face beginning to harden, transforming into the version of him thats hardest to please. I must have chosen the wrong option.
"What was that thing you were doing when I came back in here?" he asks, changing the subject. "The counting."
"Oh, it was a breathing exercise, just something to help keep me calm. I can't remember what it's called."
"Box breathing right? That's what your book said."
Wow, he really must have dived deep into that spot of reading.
"To be honest," I say, "I don't know what the book said, I never read it."
"No?"
"No, I put it away, I forgot it was even there."
"I'd be more inclined to say you hid it," he says, but if that's what you want to go with, I won't argue with you."
I try not to look guilty, obviously I hid it. Why wouldn't I? Look what happened when he found it.
"So what happens?" he asks, "These panic attacks you mentioned. What's it like?"
"Well, it's hard to put into words," I tell him, "It's like my lungs seal themselves closed and there's a weight on my chest at the same time. I feel sick and light headed, there's so much of that fight or flight fear in me that I almost become paralysed with the burden of it. The first time it happened, I honestly thought I was dying."
"What did you do?"
"Will was there," I say truthfully, "he told me to count, so I did. I counted and I waited it out. I won't say it changed my life but it helped shift my focus."
"Why was he there?," he asks.
Now this I'll have to embellish.
"He was shopping. It happened at the store."
"And that's how all of this started? You and him?"
"There is no me and him," I lie, "But that's how we became friends, yes."
Jamie takes another sip of his beer, swishing it around his mouth before swallowing.
"If I sent him a message from your phone right now, what do suppose would happen?"
I shrug a little, shaking my head as if I don't know. That's the truth I guess, I don't really know. Will could chew me out for being risky and accidentally reveal everything. Or he could be happy to hear from me and accidentally reveal everything there too. He could even figure out that it's not really me. There's equal possibility to all, but I have a feeling the only reason Jamie hasn't done that is because he believes that the last scenario is the most likely.
"Your sister has been pretty concerned about you," he says, "she must have messaged you another four times after that call. I was too busy to keep on top of them all but I've kept her at bay."
"Is she okay?"
I hope all of this hasn't put any extra stress onto her. She's still so early into the pregnancy.
"She was complaining about sickness or something," he says coldly, "I don't know why she got herself pregnant if it was going to be such a problem."
Anger bubbles inside of me as I scowl at him, I've always hated the way he talks about her.
"You can enjoy a holiday and still hate the flight that takes you there Jamie, she can't help how she feels."
A small snort escapes him. "You must have had that one in your back pocket," he says, but I guess you're right."
My phone dings on the floor as a message comes in, he rolls his eyes after checking the screen.
"Looks like she gained a sixth sense with that pregnancy too, there she is again."
He reads her message allowed to me.
"Is everything alright? Are you at home?"
Jamie glances up at me, sensing my discomfort. "She's a curious little thing isn't she?"
"She's concerned for me," I say, "just like you said."
"I bet, especially if you've only given her your version of events."
"My version?"
"Yes, the one without any blame in your direction. The version where I hit you but you don't say why."
"Do you think there's ever any real justification for it? For all of this?" I ask.
I can't hide my hatred for him, whoever I was travelling down memory lane with five minutes ago certainly isn't here now.
"There's give and take for everything Izzy," he says, "you know that better than most."
I agree, he gives and I take. Lucky me.
Finishing off his beer, he places the empty bottle onto the floor. It makes a hallow sound against the tile. I didn't mind it at first when he was being nice, but now I hope that's the end of his alcohol intake for tonight.
"Shall we see if Sarah can give me a little more insight into your plans?" he says as he waves the phone at me.
"Jamie I told you. I had no plan."
"Your protesting just a little much there Iz, I think she might be willing to tell me a whole lot more than you are."
I've no idea what he's saying to Sarah as he types away. And I can only hope that she can see through the language he uses or the way he talks and realises that it's not me.
They seem to go back and forth a little bit. Every time a message comes in I hold my breath, banking on Sarah keeping her mouth shut. At one point I notice Jamies eye twitch, a sure sign that he doesn't like whatever she's saying. He looks up at me, burning a hole through me with his glare.
"I'll be back," he says.
With a bit of a grumble, he pulls himself up off the floor and leaves again. Not long after, he's back with two glasses and a bottle of scotch. Damn it.
Twisting the cap off the bottle and pouring two drinks, he slides one across the floor to me. "There," he says, " it will help numb whatever pain you're in."
"You want me to sit in here and drink with you?" I say, entierly repulsed by the idea.
He takes a look around, surveying the bathroom that he's holding me in. I'm sure even he realises how bizarre this is.
I leave the glass where it is. I don't even like scotch. He knows that.
Another message comes in from Sarah, but this time it causes him to stare up at me over the phone. The light from the screen reflects onto his eyes, making the colour around his pupils look like golden hues drifing into a black abyss.
"You said you hadn't made any definite plans right?" he questions.
"Y- yes."
"Hum… well Sarah here seems to think you had some pretty solid ones."
I feel my heart begin to race. What did she say?
"She's wondering what time your flight is on Friday. And if you want her to take any of your stuff..."
I close my eyes. I'm fucked.
"No plans huh?l," he says, "How'd I know that you'd be lying?"
Jamie quickly finishes his glass, picking up the one he poured for me and knocking it back in one gulp before getting up. He begins to pace the floor infront of me, typing and typing.
I have to do something.
"Okay, I lied to you," I say, "but can you blame me? Look at where we are Jamie."
"Where are the details?," he asks.
"I booked a flight, but that was all. It's on Friday morning, I-"
"The booking details Izzy, where are they?"
I hesitate, knowing I don't have them.
"They're not in your phone," he says, "there's no emails about any flight. Where did you put them?"
"I booked it at work, I used their email account. I was going to print it all today."
He hunkers down in front of me, getting as close as he can.
"There's only so much bullshit I'll take from you before I have to put that gag back into your mouth, so you better start telling the truth."
It's me against Sarah here, all he has to do is mention Will and she'll give him more information then he'll know what to do with. Is it better if I tell him myself, or if he finds out?
I don't get another second to decide that answer, because when the phone buzzes one more time, he gets the latter.
"Well that's interesting," he says.
"What?" I know my voice is panicked, all I can feel is the sweat running down my back.
He holds the phone out to me, letting me read the screen.
SARAH: The only thing making feel in any way okay with all of this is that you won't be alone. X
Jamie's eyes meet mine.
I'm not so sure I'll ever leave this room.