After my failed attempt at an escape out of the bathroom window, my captor takes me back into the bedroom and chains me back up to the bed. He leaves immediately without saying a word and I notice that his face is red and his knuckles are white again and although I did get bumped and scraped when he yanked me back in the window, I know it could have been worse. He controlled his temper enough not to really hurt me.
I hear him hear him talking loudly on the phone in the other room, I steady my breathing to try to listen to what he is saying.
"How much longer do I have to do this? ... I'm going to end up killing this little bitch if I don't get out of here soon. ... Yeah I know but I just didn't think she was going to be this much trouble. ... I hope it's worth it. ... Call me as soon as you hear anything. ... Later."
I can't make sense of what he is saying. Who's he waiting on? What are they planning to do with me? What's going to be 'worth it'? Oh my God, I'm so scared. I can't remember just how long I've been here. I think about my mom worrying sick about me. I wonder if she has called the police, I wonder if people are out searching for me right now. I hope someone finds me soon, I don't know how much more of this I can take. I bury my face into the mattress and cry.
Pounding noises coming from the other room sends a vague terror coursing through my body.
"Hey! Come in here. Don't leave me in here by myself." I say, tears rolling down my cheeks.
He opens the door and stares at me with his arms folded tightly across his chest.
"Please, let me go home. Please. I won't say anything to anybody, I promise. Please I just want to go home."
"I couldn't do that, even if I wanted to." He says, flatly.
Tears continue to flow as I weep hysterically, clamping my legs together, thrashing in the bed.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
I hesitate for a moment before finally admitting, "I really have to pee."
"Ha, that's a good one, you expect me to fall for that one again?"
"No, for real, I'm serious."
"I don't know. I mean, I don't really think I can trust you. Should I?" He says forcing back a smile as he watches me squirm. "I probably shouldn't but you know what? I'm a nice guy. I'll give you one more chance."
He grabs my face in his hand, squeezing just enough to let me know he means business, "But don't do anything stupid because you won't get another."
"I won't do anything stupid, I promise."
"I know." He says, with a smirk on his face, gently tapping his fingers on my cheeks. His confidence turns my stomach. Did he serious think that just because he was being somewhat nice to me now that I would just forgive and forget everything he has done to me? Asshole! But when I walk into the bathroom I figure out why he is so confident, he nailed the bathroom window shut.
There is absolutely no chance in hell of getting out this way again.
After I finish, I walk into the living room and find him sitting on the couch with his head propped against his fist. He notices my apprehension and pulls the t-shirt off the back of the couch and holds it out to me.
"Thank you." I say, pulling the shirt over my head and sitting down awkwardly on the other end of the couch. He's watching a slasher movie on TV. During a commercial, he goes to the kitchen and returns with a bowl of chips and a six pack of beer. I scoot in a little closer to grab a handful of popcorn. He makes no attempts to grope me or even touch me. If circumstances were different this might actually be somewhat enjoyable.
"This is one of your favorites, isn't it?" He says, looking over at me.