Prisoner of Love

Chapter 2 Rats trap (part 2)

Day 3

I awoke with a loud cry that echoed off the walls of my stone prison. Running my shaky hand through my tangled hair, I looked around the room trying to gather my thoughts. I didn't even remember falling to sleep. Hanging my head, I thought about the images cycling around in my mind. My dreams were anything but kind, as nightmares ravished my thoughts once again. I tried to catch my breath and convince myself it was only a dream, but that was harder than it seemed because I knew it wasn't.

Despite how twisted and distorted my dreams could be, those people, the places, those things, it was all real, it all happened in someway or another. I have always had nightmares, but over the past two years, they've become a way of life for me, growing more and more frequent, and, with each passing one, seemed to worsen that much more. Most of them stemmed from my childhood. The days of helping my uncle pay off his debt were long since behind me, but it was because of him I ended up where I am today.

My uncle never truly cared about me. The same could be said of my last foster family. If they did, they never would have handed me over to him, and he would have never insisted I work for Mr. Clane. That horrible, awful man. My uncle bit off more than he could chew when he did business with him. To settle his debt, he had me work for Mr. Clane by making deliveries. Who would ever suspect a sweet little girl to be a courier for a very influential drug syndicate? I never knew for sure what was in my backpack. All I knew was a name and a location to go, collect the money, and return like a well-trained dog.

My train of thought was broken as I jumped from the already too familiar tumble and click sound of the large, metal door's lock. Whoever it was seemed to have the most impractical timing. I had to make the quick decision whether to lay back down and attempt not to be seen, or remain in an upright position and risk being noticed. Undecided, I remained sitting in the middle of the bed as the door opened slowly to reveal the Cloaked-Man again.

I almost felt disappointed, I wasn't sure why I was even expecting anyone else. Part of me was still anticipating the Bad-Man to barge in, rudely awake me, and drag me back to my room where I knew I belonged. I was beginning to think wherever I was, the Cloaked-Man was its only occupant. That or he was on water duty.

I decided simply not to pay him any mind. I still had no idea what kind of game this was or what was expected of me, but until I got some answers, I wasn't playing. I looked away and remained quiet, despite how many questions I wanted to ask. I knew my silence would make him leave faster.

That was the plan, at least until the smell of fresh food caught my attention. I turned my head, and sure enough, the tray was filled with a variety of food, along with another tall glass of water. The Cloaked-Man said nothing as he placed the tray on the table and turned to leave with the old tray and empty glass. Before he was even out the door my eager body threw the covers off and made a start for the table. Taking only two over enthusiastic steps, I abruptly halted myself, almost keeling over and crashing to my face in the process. The Cloaked-Man had stopped at the door, his back towards me. He stood there for the longest time as if he were waiting for me to make another move. I took a slow soft step back from the table. The hood of his cloak shifted as he tilted his head. Surely he hadn't heard me, how could he? I questioned myself, reviewing my actions. My bare feet made absolutely no sound across the solid stone floor, but I knew he was listening for me.

I stood there like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to do. I couldn't tell if he wanted me to eat the food, or if he was daring me to. Unable to make up my mind, I stood there like an idiot. I was honestly afraid of him, afraid of what he might do at any given moment. I didn't know this man, I didn't know anything about him, his strengths, his weaknesses, his tendencies. He was completely unpredictable.