Stockholm Syndrome

Lost in Wonderland

Charlie's house was extravagant to say the least. It was absolutely huge and decorated in a silver, purple, and black in an Alice in Wonderland kind of theme. It looked great, if you liked the whole stepping into a psychedelic horror movie thing. Charlie thanked us for coming to her party, and informed us that most of the guests were in the ballroom. After she pointed us in the direction of the ballroom she flashed Max one last sultry smile before turning to greet other guests. The way Max was staring after her made me cringe. His lust for her was so apparent that there was no question the two had been intimate. Once Charlie was out of sight he turned to me and motioned for me to follow him into the ballroom. I wanted to make some smart remark about Charlie and him, but I held my tongue and followed.

There was a large table near the entrance that overflowed with gifts of all shapes and sizes. Max placed a small, neatly wrapped, black package on the table as we entered the dimly lit room. The ballroom had been transformed into a haunted flower garden. There was a crystal chandelier that emitted an eerie blue-green glow over the center of the room. The rest of the room was lit by black trees draped with black lace and purple Christmas lights. The whole room was shady even with the lights. I felt a shiver go down my spine as my eyes landed on the fountain in the center of the room. It was filled with a toxic, green, glowing substance instead of water and what looked like bones floated on top of the liquid. Max chuckled as he pulled me farther into the room. He clearly approved of the creepy decorations.

"How about a drink?" Max asked as motioned with his hands toward a group of people seated around tables and larger than life flowers. Waiters and waitresses swarmed around like bees as they brought drinks and h'orderves to the guests. It looked like this fake patio area was the bar.

"I'll pass," I said dryly. I needed to think clearly tonight if my plan was to work. I didn't need alcohol to distract me, but having to spend time with Max made it awfully tempting to down a few shots.

"Well I want a drink, so we're going anyway," he chuckled as he drug me towards the bar. I felt like a dog on a God damned leash but I knew better than to act out. I knew that my opinion held absolutely no weight with him. Even though I had said no it didn't mean anything. Arguing with Max about it would just cause a scene and my chances of seeing the world outside of the mansion Max kept me prisoner in would drop to zero.

In the far corner of the room there were white tables and chairs set up in front of a small stage. A neon clad performer was dressed as a caterpillar and was reciting some monologue while blowing smoke rings. We sat at a table in near the back and a brunette waitress approached us. She was wearing a very tight, very short, very revealing dress that was blood red. Like all of the other waiters and waitresses she was dressed like a flower. She was beautiful, but it was obvious by the way she carried herself that she was far from innocent. Her eyes met mine and I looked away quickly, my checks tinted pink. I continued to avoid looking at her as she bent over to place two glasses of water on our table, purposefully revealing more of her cleavage as she did so. I'm sure Max enjoyed the view, but that was just an assumption.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked in a silky voice as she pulled out a pen and a notebook and smiled suggestively at us.

"I'm good," I swallowed as I kept eyes focused on the lace patterns of the tablecloth.

"I'll have a glass of Chardonnay please," Max said cheerfully as he winked at her.

"I'll have your order shortly," the waitress purred as she slipped Max a small red piece of paper, turned, and sashayed off into the shadows.

I released a breath that I didn't know I'd been holding. I knew that this party would be uncomfortable for me, but I certainly hadn't expected there to be strippers! Then again it was Charlie... and she certainly was a piece of work. There really was no other way to describe her besides that was just how she was. It kind of like how Harry could get by with being a pervert and groping us on stage. Harry was Harry and it was as simple as that.