Conflicted

Chapter 2

For the first time in the last few minutes, Cara could breathe. She tried to wrap her head around the events of the past few hours, but could not seem to get a grip. Growing up in the city, everything Cara knew told her what should have happened just then, but that's not what happened. Why did he untie her? And just to leave her alone at that. She was confused. Not to mention scared, tired, and very uneasy. Still expecting him to come back into the room, Cara looked around.

She was sitting on a bed after all. A four post, elegantly carved one at that. The comforter was a light blue cotton that matched the cream colored walls. There was a dresser in one corner, a desk in the other, and a small table with two chairs at the foot of the bed. Everything was made of the same lightly stained wood. She noticed the door to the bathroom was cracked open, and inside she could see everything was a white porcelain and the wood counters matched the bedroom. Everything was very pretty, even under the harsh fluorescent light. But there was not a single window.

What kind of place is this?

Cara leaned forward to peek into the bathroom. She could see the stand alone, white tiled shower. She desperately wanted to be clean, because she could feel the dirt and grime all over her body. But she was still so confused. Was it safe to shower? The man had told her to after all. After some short consideration, Cara decided that she was in trouble as it was, she'd rather not be absolutely filthy if the worst was still ahead of her.

Cara stood from the bed and looked down at herself for the first time. No wonder her legs had been so cold. She was wearing an asymmetrical mauve gown, the bottom chiffon was tattered and covered in mud. Her bare feet were almost black, and she noticed she had left little dirty footprints to the bed on the white carpet.

Yeah, I definitely need a shower.

Not caring about the rest of the carpet, Cara grabbed the clothes the man had thrown on the bed and walked into the well-lit bathroom. The tiles were cold on her feet. She stepped in front of the decorative gold mirror above the counter and looked at where she should have seen herself. A gasp escaped her throat. Cara looked almost skeletal. Nothing like she usually does. Her dark brown eyes were sunk deep into her face and her lips were dry and cracked. She had a bruise on her left cheek, and a tiny gash through her right eyebrow. Her entire body was covered in dirt, not just her legs. She looked like she hadn't eaten in days. Tears welled up in her eyes and she instinctively blinked them away.

Cara was determined just to shower, and try to make herself feel a little better. She opened the glass doors to the shower stall and turned on the water. It gushed out of the shower head with the force of a waterfall, and Cara felt better before she even stepped underneath of it. The water was hot and soothing as it cascaded over her body, washing away the dirt. She wondered how on earth she had gotten herself into this mess, and even better, how she was going to get out of it. She wished so badly that the shower could wash away her problems like it was washing away all of the dirt. She didn't think that she had done anything in her past to deserve this. Cara wasn't a mean person. She wasn't bad to anyone. Why was she being punished? Cara scrubbed until the water started to get cold, then she turned it off and hopped out. She grabbed a towel from the rack and dried herself off. Bruises covered her thighs and torso as well, but she did not feel them as much as she thought she should have.

After dressing herself in the grey sweatpants and sweatshirt, she sat back on the bed to put on the white slipper socks that you would get at a hospital. She had found a brush in the bathroom and began to brush all the knots out of her dirty blonde hair.

Not long after she sat down, the door to the room opened. Cara jumped as the man from before walked into her room carrying a tray of food. He set it down on the table, and nonchalantly pulled out a chair and sat down. He looked up at Cara, and she was frozen in place. He was so dark and menacing, it was hard to focus on much of anything else in the room. Even though his hair was messy and his face was unshaven, he was still very intimidating.

His eyes widened just a little, "Are you going to eat or not?" He gestured to the food he had set down. It was a turkey sandwich on white bread, an apple and a glass of water.

Cara put on a straight face, and stayed glued to the bed. But after trying to be stern and save face, Cara's stomach rumbled loudly and gave her away.

"Don't make me force you to eat. You're hungry, stop lying to yourself." The man sat at the table staring up at her from under his dark hair with those almost black eyes. Cara stared back for a second, and it was almost as if she were staring into a mirror. His eyes that were so much like her own, burned into her and made her stomach turn. She realized she was frightened by this man, and found herself rising from the bed, because she did not dare defy him.

Cara sat the brush down on the comforter and shuffled to the small table. Sitting down in the chair, she tried not to make any more eye contact and picked up the sandwich. It wasn't bad, just a plain turkey sandwich. And the apple looked fresh as well. She took a sip of the water, it was crisp and cold. She finished the sandwich and a glass of water, all the while trying to avoid the man's everlasting gaze. She grabbed the apple and stood from her chair.

"Feel better?" The man asked her as she walked back to the bed.

Cara didn't want to answer, she didn't want to speak at all, but she was afraid of what he might do if she didn't.

"Yes. Thank you." She figured that being appreciative would earn her points. She sat back down on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. The man stood from his chair and turned towards the door.

"Don't try to escape or anything stupid like that. It's not going to work. We've got our eyes on you," he pointed to a tiny black bubble that was above the doorway. Cara hadn't noticed that before.

"I'll be back after a while to check up on you. Try to enjoy yourself." He turned to her as he got to the door and gave her a chilling grin. Then he opened the door and started to walk out.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he pulled a small paperback book out of his back pocket, "Thought you might want this to pass the time." He tossed the book across the room and it landed in front of her with a soft thump. She looked down at the book and back up to the increasingly cynical man, but he was already out the door and it shut behind him. Once more she heard the lock click into place.

Cara sighed a breath of relief that he was gone, and looked down at the book on the bed. The tattered cover brought on a flashback with such force it made her head spin. She was sitting on her bed in her room, buckling her strappy heels around her ankle. She stood and walked across her room to her vanity, her mauve dress billowing behind her. She reached down to grab her favorite pearl earrings from her desk and in her haste, knocked something to the floor. She silently cursed as she bent down to pick it up.

"Cara! We have to go now or we're going to be late!" She heard her mother yell from downstairs. Cara sighed and stood up, setting George Orwell's, 1984, back to its usual place on her vanity. She ran her fingers over the crinkled cover of her favorite book and hurried out the door.

Cara snapped back to reality. She knew every crack in the cover of that book like the back of her hand, and she knew if she opened it she'd find her name scribbled in purple pen on the inside page. Her breath caught in her throat. This was her copy, from her bedroom, of her house. The same copy she had left on her vanity before going out in that pretty dress that was now laying on the bed beside her in tatters.

*******

A/N- So here's chapter two. I really like this chapter. I figured I'd post it, and then go write some more since I'm on a roll right now =D As always, please tell me what you think. Comments/votes are greatly appreciated!