His Collection

TEN

Night was weaving its way across the acres, and stars quietly peeked through the clouds as if trying to see at how I've been thus far with these nutcases.

About late afternoon, Lance had brought a bucket of water from a river two miles North. Marina had mentioned that he was quite attentive to our hygiene, which only made me roll my eyes.

As if that made him a sweetheart.

It had taken me with the help of Marina a good half an hour to clean away the grime and flith from my body. Marina had hummed through the entire thing as I sat in the cream colored love seat, sucking at my bottom lip, and staring at nothing in particular.

Lance, himself had offered to help, but all it took was me turning the other cheek, and he stood silent for a minute before walking away.

"There's a dress in there for you. It's my old one," Marina pushed me into a yellow room then shut the door before coyly mentioning to herself something about still waiting for a new outfit.

"I don't wa-" I spoke out, but she had long gone shut the door. My posture had been fixed, and something told me a good sleep was what I needed to then be ready for tomorrow, or even before sunrise.

Turning around with my eyes to the wall, I saw different pairs of shoes neatly lined against the wall, along with pictures from beauty magazines pinned around the bed. I didn't have to guess long before realizing it had to be her room. There were teddy bears on a low table near the bed, and empty vases of many shapes and sizes atop on the vanity. There was no mirror, as I walked up to it I noticed the mirror had been torn out due to the harsh, damaged wooden surface near the back edge.

"Oh," I whispered while stepping back to see my disfigured reflection on each vase. They were the mirror, clearly, and it only led me to wonder why she'd go through the trouble of seeing herself when no one was around. But, then again...she's bonkers.

I removed my torn clothes, but kept my bottoms on. The dress was a soft, faded wine red that clung around my chest and shoulders; trying to stretch it out I noticed how different our body shapes were, she, tall and slender, me, average and a bit stocky around the legs due to having Kyle force me into his workouts and cursed soccor diets.

"I look like the handle of a paint brush," I said while trying to roll up my jeans at the length of the dress. There was no way I'd openly wear a dress near these people. While hunched over, the moonlight reflected off something near the shoes. Reaching over and pushing aside some old black pumps, a long thin shard from a mirror is revealed.

Picking it up I turn it around, inspecting the egdes; there were spot that had dry blood on it. Marina didn't seem like a cutter, and there weren't even scars on her arms or legs, so this blood must have been from her handling the shard. I sat down on her bed still carrying the shard on my palms.

Survival had to stay lit inside me, and seeing this as something to help fend off an attack; it made the fire grow, and quickly I acted on it. Taking off my sock, I wrap it around the thickest edge till it was as good as any blade. The door knob turned, and the blade disappeared within the stuffed animals.

Marina came in holding a plate of steaming oats with grapes on the side. She eyed my innocent look, but kept walking, finally handing me my light dinner.

"You look...nice," She said while placing a hand on her hips, having her own eyes slide up and down me; this was not what she wanted to say, what she actually was saying was probably another half judgmental, half honest remark. I thanked her, then spent the awkward silence staring at the food. Don't eat it.

"I'm not hungry."

"If you don't eat it, he's going to come in here and spoon it to you." She replied with a sigh, looking at me as if I were a kid. " Is that what you want? Him up in ya' face?"

God, no. My throat suddenly became dry. Being near him was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't want to eat whatever deadly dish he had prepared. As if reading my thoughts, Marina quickly took the spoon full of oats, then popped it all in her mouth; my worry had ended once she swallowed.

"He's not going to kill ya. Jesus." She placed the spoon back, then kneeled down, leveling her eyes with mine.

"Then what is he going to do?"

She shurgged while scrunching up her nose before answering, "I don't know. I don't even know why he picked you up, we were fine without you." Marina then stood up saying how she had expected him to bring her a present.

"I guess you are kind of like a present," she said. "I have a sister now."