the Oscar for grief portrayal goes to Seithe the fuckhead.
I watch his eyes focus as he draws his head away, chocolate eyes stare into mine. Such gentle brown eyes. Wow, they sure do lie. I wonder if he's filming this to jack off to later?
"You are stronger than this. You are resilient. Stop submitting."
I'm caged and terrified.
"I want to go home."
He stares at me silently for what feels like eternity inside a heartbeat. Yes I can identify you, but the cops will think I'm mad when I tell them your eyes are blue and brown; or that your hair is white one moment and brown the next.
They'll shrug me off as a druggie who didn't get paid for services, or has a grudge. I'm helpless in every way. Bet that makes you feel powerful. Bet you find this funny or arousing. How many women leave here alive?
"You have free will, Phoebe. I respect that. Are you sure you want to leave before talking this through?"
There's nothing to talk about.
"Yes."
He puts a hand over my eyes, blotting out the shadows and his incredibly handsome face. Surprised with his apparent compliance, I feel myself slip back into unconsciousness.
*
I feel like I've slept for a century. Reluctantly I crawl out of my bed cocoon and wander to the kitchen counter. I'll never leave my phone behind again. I pick it up and slip it open.
How did I miss a whole day? I stare at the date and time. To my advantage this is a long weekend. I still feel hung-over to be honest and I haven't been drinking. The severity of my near escape with my life hits me hard. A sob escapes. My hand is shaking violently.
Fuck . What was I thinking? It's not safe out there any longer. You can't let a stranger pick you up in a club and trust you'll live to find your phone the next day. I need to get pepper spray, that's what I need to do. Yes. Definitely. Pepper spray is a single girl's must have.
Never go out without your phone. Stupid Phoebe. Stupid! Crossing myself, I silently thank the angels for saving me. I got lucky. I got away.
I notice the jeans folded at the end of my bed. Obsessive compulsive behaviour is a sign of a disturbed mind, isn't it? My shirt is back on. Creepy. Really, really creepy. I wonder how long he stayed here watching me? Going through my underwear, probably touching me indecently while I was unconscious. Silent freak out! I need my head read. I also need a shower.
After that I have to get supplies and clean this place before I can live here. Doubting my own sanity I pad barefoot over cold white tiles to the bathroom. I'm not sure if I dreamt it, or if it was real or not, but life takes precedence. Although it sure feels real to me.
Forty-five minutes later I leave for the shops on a quest for paint, food and cleaning supplies. I switch my phone off again, not wanting to deal with the sixty-two missed calls from Brian. I don't have any inclination to listen to the messages either.
Taking a brisk walk in the warm afternoon air past palm trees and blue hydrangeas, I'm happy to be in full sunlight. No hiding out here. It helps me to feel safe. My eyes are still wounded by bright light, but I don't care right now.
I step determinedly into Woolworths, pick up a basket and head straight for the food. I need the basic supplies, carrots, onions and the like. Wow, look at that smorgasbord of colour. Drawn to the fruit I am amazed by the electrifying hues. The tangerines are so vividly orange.
The apples delicately blushing on pale green. Ah, and the smell! It's fantastic . My mouth starts watering and I am like a child again.
My hand eagerly reaching for a crisp red, so smooth and shiny. I lift it to my nose, inhaling deeply. I could just sink my teeth into it right now. I must have it. Greedily I start placing choices into the basket.
But when I reach the pineapples the smell is so decadently evocative that I am transported to beaches and pina coladas instantly. Placing the basket between my feet I wrap both hands around the prickly roughness of it.
I watch his eyes focus as he draws his head away, chocolate eyes stare into mine. Such gentle brown eyes. Wow, they sure do lie. I wonder if he's filming this to jack off to later?
"You are stronger than this. You are resilient. Stop submitting."
I'm caged and terrified.
"I want to go home."
He stares at me silently for what feels like eternity inside a heartbeat. Yes I can identify you, but the cops will think I'm mad when I tell them your eyes are blue and brown; or that your hair is white one moment and brown the next.
They'll shrug me off as a druggie who didn't get paid for services, or has a grudge. I'm helpless in every way. Bet that makes you feel powerful. Bet you find this funny or arousing. How many women leave here alive?
"You have free will, Phoebe. I respect that. Are you sure you want to leave before talking this through?"
There's nothing to talk about.
"Yes."
He puts a hand over my eyes, blotting out the shadows and his incredibly handsome face. Surprised with his apparent compliance, I feel myself slip back into unconsciousness.
*
I feel like I've slept for a century. Reluctantly I crawl out of my bed cocoon and wander to the kitchen counter. I'll never leave my phone behind again. I pick it up and slip it open.
How did I miss a whole day? I stare at the date and time. To my advantage this is a long weekend. I still feel hung-over to be honest and I haven't been drinking. The severity of my near escape with my life hits me hard. A sob escapes. My hand is shaking violently.
Fuck . What was I thinking? It's not safe out there any longer. You can't let a stranger pick you up in a club and trust you'll live to find your phone the next day. I need to get pepper spray, that's what I need to do. Yes. Definitely. Pepper spray is a single girl's must have.
Never go out without your phone. Stupid Phoebe. Stupid! Crossing myself, I silently thank the angels for saving me. I got lucky. I got away.
I notice the jeans folded at the end of my bed. Obsessive compulsive behaviour is a sign of a disturbed mind, isn't it? My shirt is back on. Creepy. Really, really creepy. I wonder how long he stayed here watching me? Going through my underwear, probably touching me indecently while I was unconscious. Silent freak out! I need my head read. I also need a shower.
After that I have to get supplies and clean this place before I can live here. Doubting my own sanity I pad barefoot over cold white tiles to the bathroom. I'm not sure if I dreamt it, or if it was real or not, but life takes precedence. Although it sure feels real to me.
Forty-five minutes later I leave for the shops on a quest for paint, food and cleaning supplies. I switch my phone off again, not wanting to deal with the sixty-two missed calls from Brian. I don't have any inclination to listen to the messages either.
Taking a brisk walk in the warm afternoon air past palm trees and blue hydrangeas, I'm happy to be in full sunlight. No hiding out here. It helps me to feel safe. My eyes are still wounded by bright light, but I don't care right now.
I step determinedly into Woolworths, pick up a basket and head straight for the food. I need the basic supplies, carrots, onions and the like. Wow, look at that smorgasbord of colour. Drawn to the fruit I am amazed by the electrifying hues. The tangerines are so vividly orange.
The apples delicately blushing on pale green. Ah, and the smell! It's fantastic . My mouth starts watering and I am like a child again.
My hand eagerly reaching for a crisp red, so smooth and shiny. I lift it to my nose, inhaling deeply. I could just sink my teeth into it right now. I must have it. Greedily I start placing choices into the basket.
But when I reach the pineapples the smell is so decadently evocative that I am transported to beaches and pina coladas instantly. Placing the basket between my feet I wrap both hands around the prickly roughness of it.
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