Taken [Zayn Malik]

ch. 4- Beautiful Nightmare

I woke up again and had another mini heart attack as I remembered where I was and who had taken me.

The man wasn’t lying next to me this time; he was nowhere to be seen, which frightened me even more.

Quickly, I got out of bed and tip-toed around the room, half in search of a bathroom and half in search of an escape route.

I sighed as I found the bathroom instead of a magic carpet that could take me back to Sebastian.

The morning sunlight shone through the cheer ivory-white curtains. Everything from the cream-colored couches to the crystal chandelier defined perfection.

I shook my head; it was the worst time to get distracted by the furniture.

Had it been any other occasion but a kidnapping, I would had enjoyed staying here in this castle.

But it wasn’t.

I washed up in the bath room, spraying my face with water, hoping it might wake me up from this beautifully set nightmare.

“Miss” a soft voice called.

I jumped slightly.

I turned to see the old woman who had brought the ice from yesterday. Or the day before. I wasn’t so sure how long I had been taken captive. And Sebastian was probably worried sick out looking for me.

She motioned toward a half-opened closet which held a glistening ruby-red dress.

I stared at her, then at the dress- both in awe of the dress and that fact that I would never wear it.

The woman noticed my apprehension and she took the dress off its rack and brought it to me.

I shook my head.

“You must wear it, his majesty had it made special for you” she replied calmly.

“No” I shook my head violently. I took a step back and folded my arms over my chest stubbornly. 

The woman closed off the distance between us and held the dress up to me.

“No! I won’t wear it. I’m leaving. I have to go!” I told her as hysteria kicked in.

“Your majesty is waiting, miss” she nagged in her monotonous voice.

“Please, I have to go!” I shouted as I pushed past her and ran to the balcony. I looked down and it was at least a 100 foot drop. I would die before I even reached the bottom.

“Miss” she insisted as she held out the dress to me.

I grasped the railing and breathed in and out slowly. Even if I wanted to jump, I don’t have the guts to actually do it. Sebastian would have the guts to do anything. God, where is?

“What does he want from me?!” I asked in anger and desperation.

“He wants to see you, miss” she replied sternly.

“He wants to see me? And I suppose if he wanted to kill me, he would have that done as well?” I spat impatiently.

I glared at the old woman.

Doesn’t she even care that he’s forced me to stay here? Doesn’t she have the slightest ounce of sympathy? I thought back to when he had whispered something against my wrist and neck and how it had made me uncontrollably sleepy. Was she under some kind of spell of his?...

“Your majesty would never hurt you, miss” she shook her head. She stared at me with wide, disbelieving eyes, like I was the problem in this disastrous equation.

“Hurt me?” I asked as my voice shook with fear and rage. “He kidnapped me!” I shouted back.

“He saved your life, miss. Now please, wear the dress” she hissed as she tugged my arm toward the dresser.

I looked into her eyes, hoping to find a nice, caring grandmother who would feel pity for me and let me escape, but instead I found an unblinking, unwavering robot.

I sighed in desperation. She pulled at the strap of my night gown.

“Woah, I can dress myself” I said as I took a step away from her and pulled the strap back up.

“It’s quite alright, miss. I had to bathe and dress you last night” she reminded me with the cock of her withering grey brow.

I looked at her a moment. It’s not that I was afraid of her…doing anything…that would be completely uncalled for and quite messed up. It’s that I didn’t want to feel like a child unable to dress herself.

She took off my night gown and gently placed it on the bed.

“What’s that?” I asked her as I moved back, slightly afraid the white laced and wired contraption was some kind of bondage device.

“This is why you needed my assistance” she smirked. “It’s a corset” she answered my question.

I stared at the white straps and sweetheart and lace. She pulled it on me and began tightening the laces, making me choke on my own tongue.

I gasped.

“It hurts” I complained as I tried to breath.

“Good” she replied and I could almost hear her smiling behind me while she twisted the lace and straps around.

I gasped.

She pulled once more.

I took my last breath.

I was right, it was a torture device. I shook my head; that’s how men used to keep their women from leaving them.

She held the dress out for me as I stepped into it carefully, knowing it would weigh down my chances of escape that much more.

The woman pulled the gown up to my chest and it fit quite snugly. Images of “his majesty” cuddling me came to mind. That creep must have measured me or taken too great a notice for my body.

After what seemed like an hour of tugging and pulling my dress and hair and face into place, the woman stepped back and examined me- head to toe. She moved my hair to the side and began braiding it into a long dark fishtail.

Then she touched up my face to make me look slightly less exhausted and furious, but I don't think she did a very good job or maybe I was just that horrid-looking because her eyes widened when she lined my eyes with a brand of liner I'd never heard of...

What if it was really some kind of seal that closed your eyes off, making you blind and at the mercy of anyone who was near you??

“Miss, you look absolutely-”

“Beautiful” a low, smooth voice answered from the doorway.

We both turned to look at the figure leaning slightly against the door frame.