Conflicted

Chapter 3

How did he get this?!

Cara picked up the book from the bed and turned it over in her hands. It was definitely her copy. There was no doubt about that.

He was in my house.

Cara felt sick to her stomach. This man that, as far as she knew, was holding her captive under the strangest circumstances, had been in her home after she had left. He had stolen this book from her house because he knew she would want it. He knew he was going to kidnap her. The way that the men from before were talking, it sounded like she was taken by happenstance, not as a planned abduction. They had talked about how many they "caught."

For the next hour, Cara paced her room, trying to wrap her head around everything that had happened so far. She still didn't know where she was, or why she was there. She tried standing by the door and listening outside, but she heard nothing. She searched every inch of her room, but found nothing of any use to her. The dresser was filled with similar clothes to the ones she wore. The desk only had some pens and a couple blank notebooks. In the bathroom she found the usual toiletries; a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, and things like that. After a while, Cara became complacent. She had tried to sleep, but could not. Thoughts of that man being in her home kept plaguing her mind.

Cara decided that it might do her good to try and write down everything she remembered. So she sat at the desk, pulled out one of the notebooks and began writing. After her vivid flashback, she found she could recall most of everything from before she left her house. She remembered that she had been going to a benefit dinner for her father's software company. That's why she had been dressed so fancy. She could recall bits and pieces from the ride there; her father telling her about one of his benefactors in the limo, her mother telling her how pretty she had looked. But everything about the dinner itself was completely gone. The next memory she had was the flashback she had had earlier, where she was running barefoot through a stream.

When Cara couldn't remember anything else, she gave up. She made a mental note to write down any future flashbacks she had though. Cara looked down at the scribbled handwriting, letting out an exasperated breath. She ran her fingers through her now dry hair and placed her head in her hands. She was exhausted, but couldn't sleep. And she just did not know what to do with herself.

Luckily, before she had the chance to start to cry, she heard the door being opened, and the man walked into the room. She lifted her head and looked up at him. He was standing in the middle of the room looking at her.

"What are you writing?" He asked.

Cara didn't want to tell him anything, but from the look on his face, she figured she didn't have a choice.

"I can't remember anything, so I'm writing down what I do remember. Thought it might help me get my memory back." She said in the strongest voice she could muster. She looked back down at her notebook, and snapped it shut. She didn't really want him reading it.

"You don't remember anything?" He asked with a hint of shock in his voice. He walked over to the bed and plopped down on his back. She wasn't comfortable with him just making himself at home in what was supposed to be her room.

"No," she stated sharply. She looked away and back to her now closed notebook. Sliding open one of the desk drawers, she slid the notebook inside. She wanted so badly to sleep, and she had been going to try again until he took it upon himself to come back and lay in her bed.

"Well that's unfortunate. I'm going to have to read that notebook of yours though." He shifted his weight and put his hands behind his head.

Cara wasn't sure if she wanted him to do that. She didn't want him to know what she did and did not remember, but again, she probably didn't have a choice in the matter. She was afraid to ask any questions, so maybe if she was open about her notebook, he would tell her something, and she wouldn't have to ask. Cara opened the drawer back up and hesitantly took the notebook out. She sat there for another second, not sure if he was going to get up or not.

"Bring it here." He said sternly. He was looking at her with those eerily dark eyes again. Cara quickly looked away and stood up. She walked to the bed slowly, expecting him to sit up, but he didn't. He patted the bed beside him as if beckoning her to sit down. Cara didn't want to sit. She was scared of this man, and didn't want to be that close to him, but when she looked at him again, he had the same unforgiving look in his eyes. So she reluctantly sat down next to him on the bed.

The man grabbed the notebook out of her hand and held it above his head, reading it in silence. Cara sat unmoving on the bed and tried to focus her attention on the wall ahead of her. She couldn't help but notice that he had changed clothes. He still had the jeans and combat boots, but now he was just wearing a tight black t-shirt. She could see just how muscular he was now that he wasn't wearing that oversized windbreaker. This scared her even more.

Without warning the man sat up quickly, "This is very interesting. I'll need you to keep writing down the things you remember for our records." He held the notebook out for her to take. And Cara couldn't control her curiosity.

"What records?" As soon as she asked the question, she wished that she hadn't. The grin on his face sent chills down her spine.

"You're curious now? Hmm, well what do you want to know, sweetie?" He set the notebook on her lap. His other hand moved to the bed behind her, his body angled in her direction.

Cara's heart skipped a beat. She was terrified. The look in his eyes was conniving, she didn't want to do anything that might make him the slightest bit angry. She knew this man could hurt her if he wanted to. So much for staying quiet. She had dug her own grave now, she might as well lay in it.

"What's your name?" Cara asked her first question, trying to keep her voice as strong as possible. She quickly made the decision to look directly at him, hopefully to show him that she was not afraid.

"Dominic. But you can call me Dom." He returned her stare, and Cara shifted uneasily. The man now has a name, and a very eerie one at that.

"Where am I?" She continued unhindered, holding his gaze. She felt a sudden courage well up inside her.

"You're in our facility," he said matter-of-factly, as if she was supposed to know what that meant.

"What facility? Where?" She knew she had probably crossed a line even before she blurted out these questions. Too much for one sitting maybe.

His grin turned to a scowl, "You really think I can answer that? Come on now, you're a smart girl." He stood quickly from the bed, snapping Cara out of her seemingly powerful stupor. He grabbed the notebook and tossed it on the desk on his way out. It landed next to her copy of 1984. Cara hung her head when she heard the lock click yet again, leaving her alone to her thoughts once more.

******

UPDATED: Yes, I have changed a couple details in the first 6 parts. The main character's name was definitely changed (Cara.)

A/N- Alright, so I have decided to go in a different direction with this story. I changed a few small details in the 1st and 2nd chapters, but not anything huge. But a friend helped me finalize an amazing plot line for this story, so I'm super excited. =]

Also, I will be changing the title eventually, so I'll be sure to let everyone know when I do. And I may or may not be changing Karina's name. When I wrote it originally I liked the name Karina, but I wasn't in love with it. I have now found the absolute perfect name for her, but I don't feel like going through and changing it right now. >.<

As always, comments and votes are appreciated! More to come soon!