⚠️ paused ⚠️Choose me / Eddie Munson ~ OC

Chapter 8 - Be mine

I lie on my bed with an empty head and stare at the ceiling. Please don't ask me what day it is or how long I've been down here. I have no idea. Zero. Nada. It must have been a few days though, as my mother has brought food in for me a couple of times. I still don't understand it somehow. What's in it for her to keep me here? She should have been glad that I was gone.

And if we're honest, she couldn't have taken me against my will, because after all, I'm already 18 years old. But since even the sheriff didn't say otherwise, I'm assuming she bought him. Yep, that's right, my mom bribed the sheriff so she could take me and lock me up here.

Well, he certainly won't know that I'm locked up here. I've spent the last few hours or even days trying to figure out why. Why is she like this and why is she doing this? There is only one explanation for this. My mother is crazy. Yes, she totally freaked out.

I wonder what story she's telling my father that I've been gone for so long. I mean, even if he's never there, he'll surely notice at some point that something can't be right. At least that's what I hope.

Hope dies last, or what do you think?
My thoughts wander to Eddie. Oh, Edde. How bad will it be for him not to know where I am and how I am doing?

The pain on his face as I drove past him and Wayne in the sheriff's car almost tore me up. A single tear runs down my cheek, I can't take any more.
I've cried so much the last few days, I'm just empty, there are almost no more tears.

My head is pounding and my throat is sore. At first, I tried to bang on the door with all my might and screamed my heart out. But at some point, I just couldn't take it anymore, at some point my strength left me.

My producer, I mean my mother, was kind enough to put some books on the table for me. At some point, out of sheer boredom, I started reading them and somehow didn't read them either, because I didn't absorb the words.

I wonder how she sorted it all out with my school? After all, she has to say something about where I am. Well, I'll probably never find out.
I jump involuntarily when I hear the key in the lock of the door. My mother, holding a tray, opens the door and steps into the room.

"Eat," she practically grunts, putting the tray on the table and heading back out.

"Mom," I begin, "why are you doing this?"

My mother freezes, takes a deep breath, and without even looking at me, she replies, "Because it's for the best for all."

"For all?" I laugh and get up from the bed, "probably for you. You know what?" I get a little closer to her, trembling with anger, "Your head is sick. Do you hear? Sick! I hope one day you'll pay for what you're doing to me, bitch."

Wow, now it's out. I said it. I called my mother a bitch. And I am not even sorry. No. Not even a little, no, not at all. What else should I call her? She's definitely not an angel. What kind of normal person is doing that to another person? Nobody.

I peek briefly at the crack at the door. It's a little wide open, I just have to get past her somehow, just don't know exactly how yet.

Although she's still standing with her back to me, I can already feel her anger and see her beginning to tremble. I peek down and see her hands clenched into fists. This woman has an anger problem. At any moment she could spin around and sink her fist into my face. I just have to be faster than her. Well, I have to try at least.

The moment, and I expect every second, that she turns to me, I have to duck, use the element of surprise, shove her aside, and move as fast as my ass and get out of here. That's the plan. Sounds easy, doesn't it? Let's hope it's that easy to implement.