His Collection

ELEVEN

The warm food melted away the hunger I had felt but had spiked my nerves into a crazed buzz, and managed to stay awake all night, keeping me from closing my eyes. Lance had instructed me to sleep in the room next to Marina's, which was now to be my mine. He had spent some time earlier on the day painting it a dusty, pale, neutral green.

"It'll help to reduce stress, this color, it's soothing," Lance had said before opening the door to it.

As I lay on the bed with eyes slightly open, I feel the presence of him near. He either had to be awake in his room, or standing guard right outside the door. Resting on my arm, I tilt my head to the side. A headache was growing, and I was certain it was because of my sketchy plans of escape; once one was drawn up, another would come along that seemed better, then it'd all burn away into nothing, then starting back at square one.

I need that blade, before anything else, I need it with me.

Just then, I heard someone start walking away, then up the stairs. I was right, Lance had been outside my room. The steps stopped, and I bit my lip.

Keep going. Keep going.

He continued, then I heard him gently open his door. It doesn't shut, so I know he had left it open for a reason; to be able to hear everything and anything.

Earlier I had walked around the first floor, seeing where my steps made noise and where it didn't, along with how to turn the door knobs and open the doors without making a sound. With furious eyes glued to the ceiling, I muttered, "You think I wasn't taking notes?"

After an hour, I had snuck out the room, and made my way to Marina's. I was surprised the doors weren't locked, but relieved all the same. The second I walked in her room, there was a chilly breeze, and I faced the open window with a smile. It was even better now; there was no need to come in here, get the blade, then make my way down the hall to the exit. Now there was on right here. Quietly, I tip toed to the bears, and picked out where I had left my weapon. She hadn't noticed a thing, and mentally I sighed at my grand luck. Marina snores like a man, and sleeps like a log.

The plan was going well, even as I fell out the window I had a smile on my face.  I quickly was able to get up and dart off into my destination. I knew it was going to be a run, and a long one, too, but I didn't care. Sweat had started collecting around my head as the moon kissed goodbye, and the sun spread out its neon glows, lighting my way. My heart was racing only for the pushed physical activity, but once I heard the sound of a truck starting...the pounding in my chest became the cries for help.

Running even faster, and forcing myself to the ultimate limit, I stumbled and rolled down into the tall grass.

"No-no-no," I stood up and groaned out before quickly picking up the pace once more.

His truck was already past half-way to me, and something told me I was going to have to stab him, that there was no way I'd out-run him.

He stopped ahead of me, opened the door, and stepped out with a disappointed look in his eyes.

"Blanca." That's all he could say. Everything else he wanted to say, it wouldn't come out. He just stood there, making me only stare back, panting for air. I pulled out the shard.

"Look, just come back home, and sleep. We're both tired," Lance causally said through his teeth.

Ignoring what my stomach was trying to spill out, I lick my lips before saying, "That is not my home, and I am only tired of you."

With the little amount of light on his face, I had seen his brow raise as he listened. He seemed impressed and irritatred all at once.

"You don't even know me. How can you be tired of me."

"You kidnapped me."

"No, I rescued you."

I scoff, "Well, I am healed. Thank you."

He took a few steps closer, and the blade seemed to almost shatter under my grip. Extending his arm out to me, he basically ordered me to calm down, saying I was overreacting. Overreacting? Me?!

"You're keeping me here against my will!" I shouted before he flung himself at me. Screaming, I tried to slice his chest or even puncture an eye, but he had a tight hold on my wrist, and had his other arm twisted aroud my waist. Shaking the blade loose out of my hand, he then pinned me to the ground. Panting, and crying aloud, resembling a wild animal, it was as if I were the psychotic one.

"Stop it, Blanca. Stop," his breath, and lips hovered over me with his bangs touching the tip of my forehead.

Twisting my legs around, he locked them in with his own, and I was now whimpering, and staring back at his honey eyes; they held something I was hoping had to be part of my imagination.

Leaning in he whispered, "If you quit fighting the idea, then maybe you could see this isn't so bad."

Tears were flooding my view, and blinking wasn't helping at all. He saw how I wasn't going to stop crying, so he leaned in even more, causing pressure against my chest, and kissed me. My eyes flew open. That was the last thing I thought he'd do.

Offended, I shook away my face from his, and told him to get off me. He did the opposite and with a free hand he squeezed my lower back causing me to spring upwards into him. Lance's eyes hid behind his lashes as my own eyes drowned in tears.

"Stop!" I demanded him to quit touching me, but soon knew that wouldn't work, so I screamed. He didn't seem to care, and as the night faded away, and light spilled across our bodies, I knew something worse than death was going to happen.