Call It An Obsession ⊷ Brendon Urie || Book 1

Chapter 33

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My alarm clock begins to ring loudly throughout my room. I'm too tired to turn around and switch it off, so I wait a few minutes, sure that Brendon will just roll over and turn it off for me.
At least five minutes later, the noise is still prominent, and continuing to disturb my rest. Wondering why he hadn't put an end to the incessant screech by now, I turn on my side with an agitated grunt and find that his side of the bed is actually empty.
There was no note to accompany me on top of his pillow, so my first reaction was a little hurt; but after ripping the plug of my alarm clock out of the outlet in anger, I calmed down. Regaining a level head, I was able to reason with myself that maybe he had just left to go get ready for work.

"Thanks a lot." I mutter, setting up and popping the stiff parts of my body. After a yawn, and a long stretching session, I finally get up and make my way to my bedroom door.
The knob is slippery and extremely hard to turn. That was highly unusual.
Shaking my head in calm confusion, I wipe my hands on my pants. I then wrap the hem of my shirt around the knob to wipe it off as well, and try for a second time.
This time, the turn is a lot simpler, but I'm still unable to open the door. It was as if a force was pulling on the handle from the other side. Trying with all my might, I'm able to hold the door open a crack. The opening is less than half an inch wide, but through it I'm able to see Brendon standing against the wall across the hall. His arms are crossed over his chest and an amused smirk is etched on his face. My strength allows me to open the door for only seconds at a time, so it takes me a second try to notice the old jump rope tying my bedroom door to the bathroom door across the hall, preventing me from opening it.
Trying a third time, I find Brendon laughing hysterically at my attempts. He pushes his body off the wall, and I close the door a last time, blocking my vision.
He nears the door, and I don't open it a fourth time to look at him. I can almost hear the sinister arrogance in his voice.

"Having trouble, doll?" He asks through the closed door in mock pity. He then begins laughing at me again; a low, taunting laugh that infuriates me.

"Brendon why would you do this? I just forgave you!" I yell, beating my fist against the wood surface in defeat.

"You think I really cared about whether you forgave me or not?" he stresses the word 'forgave' as if it was meaningless to him. He then scoffs at me.
"I don't need your approval baby, you and I both know I already control you."

A tear rolls down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away. I didn't want to look weak; although he couldn't see me, I still knew I was crying, and I wasn't okay with it.

"But you were begging for my forgiveness. You-you were crying and everything. You slept in my bed and..." I babble trying to make sense of everything.

"Quite the actor I am. I didn't know you'd be so naive. I honestly didn't think you were actually that much of an imbecile. Do you think I really care about how you feel about me, or what you think of our relationship? Because I don't. Not at all. All I know is that I love you, whether you love me or not, and that's the reason I'm doing all of this. It's for your own good. If you're going to keep yelling at me, and thinking your some badass little hellion that has me under her thumb, sorry baby girl but you're dead wrong." his words cut me like knives, every single one was like a different blade. I'd thought I was actually beginning to get through to him, but I had actually just been angering him more and more with my attempts. Tears were already escaping my eyes, and I tried my best to keep my sobs silent.

"I've gotta go to work now Scarlett, this is for your own good. This should teach you not to cross me." Brendon's footsteps could be heard thudding throughout the hallway and down the stairs, and that's when I lost my composure.
My hands were banging on the door faster than I could control them, and I couldn't see past my extremely blurred vision.
I was screaming at the top of my lungs for Brendon to come back. For Brendon. For anyone. I wanted anyone to hear me, and let me out. I just wanted to get out.