Splattered Paint - Dan Howell

Baddy on the Loose

Dan's P.O.V

Darcy hadn’t left her room once since the morning I raged at her, and I hoped that I had broken her enough that my words slipped through the cracks and she realised how unwanted she was.  She was just going to use Phil because of his large income despite her own fortune, she wanted money and she wanted Phil. I bet he thought she was as innocent as an angel, I bet he still had sympathy for her too. I didn’t. 

Darcy’s P.O.V

I had stayed in my room for three days, only leaving hesitantly in the early morning to shower and grab some food to last the rest of the day. My stomach would churn from nerves at the mere thought of being confronted by Dan again, my nerves growing to stress and anxiety, atleast a dozen more scars decorating my stomach and chest. I couldn’t stop, all the negativity in my life was overpowering the positive, constantly feeling as if I were falling into a pit of endless darkness. For whatever reason, my emotions were exaggerated, peace and tranquillity seemingly impossible to acquire. To make matters worse, Phil was still going to be away for another three days and I struggled to even comprehend how I could possibly cope with my constant fear of Dan, fear of my future, fear of generally anything remotely harmful or possibly able to backfire on me. I knew any normal human would not have worries as large as mine, but I wasn’t normal. I had spent four years of my life held captive and isolated from society, I wasn’t aware of much that others my age were.

I finished the last bite of a Banana I had saved from yesterday and as I stood to throw the remaining peels in the bin, I was interrupted by my phones ringtone going off. Assuming it could only be Phil, I took my time to reach my phone located on my bedside table, tapping the answer button.

“Hello Darcy Thompson? This is the London Police” I cleared my throat and scanned my mind for an appropriate response, failing inevitably.

“Uh, hi” I stammered, mentally face palming myself for my lack of socialness.

“We are at the point in which we are able to share information with you that has been collated over the past few weeks and finally discuss your case” My breathing hitched in my throat, after being in the hospital for so long and then moving in with Dan and Phil, I had completely forgotten about the police. After their unofficial interview with me while I still couldn’t speak, the police had only visited a few times to investigate my case further. The last interview required Phil’s help, him showing the police where exactly I had been found exiting the alleyway, and me being able to pinpoint which building and potential level I was held captive in.

Since then, I had a constant worry that I may not have killed the man who kidnapped me, but the thought remained in silence at the back of my mind, me hoping over and over again that the police had found him. At the time I had thought I killed him, I was in a state of weakness, both emotionally and physically, everything was unclear.

“Alright, when would you like to meet?” I asked, the lady on the other end cleared her throat.

“We could meet at your home, it may be more comfortable than the station” I agreed with her and after a few minutes of discussing times she hung up. It was obvious they had an update, I just hoped it was positive.

As I dropped my phone onto my bed, the realisation hit me that I would have to leave my room. I sighed, planned on retaining my schedule until Phil got back but unfortunately my plans were to be altered. I hesitantly twisted my door handle, pulling the door inwards and glancing both ways before walking cautiously down the hallway. As I entered the kitchen, I was quick to notice the mess that Dan had so graciously created. There were dirty dishes and takeaway containers everywhere, table littered with rubbish and chairs all askew. I felt anger bubble inside me but I wasted no time in starting sorting everything out. The chances of Dan helping in any way were almost non-existent and asking would only anger him.

Once majority of the kitchen benches were clean, the table had been tidied and chairs positioned neatly under it, I retreated to my bedroom where I changed into slightly more sophisticated clothing and styled did my hair in a braid. Before my parents died, my mother had shown me how they worked and once I had practiced on my dolls for a while, I could do it quite easily with my own hair. Sometimes, when it was a really hot day in the concrete room, I would braid my hair but it would often come undone as I didn’t own anything to tie it back with.

“Darcy Thompson?” I heard a knock at the front door so I quickly ran to open it and welcome the police woman in.

“Good morning” I said and led the lady into the apartment. She took a seat on the couch, placing her mass of books and paper on the table. I followed suit, sitting on the opposite couch and watching as she gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Darcy, the team have searched the area and no man was in fact found in the building you had pointed out to us. We did find the room you were held captive in, and pictures have been taken as evidence. The building is currently restricted to police access only, and no-one fitting your description has returned. We currently have a search team located in various parts of the city, and we have interviewed residents nearby but there is a high chance the man has travelled to another country or city.  There is nothing else at this current point in time we can do to continue our case other than broadcasting this man’s identity on television frequently and hoping he will turn up somewhere and be arrested. I’m very sorry”

My heart sunk.
I hadn’t killed him.
I failed to kill him and now my kidnapper was on the loose and more than capable of finding me again. I tried to suppress my emotions, but the lady obviously took notice of my expression and lack of speech.

What if the man finds out where I live?

What if he comes and kills me or takes me again?

I suddenly burst into tears, my emotions stronger than my care of looking presentable by that point.

“We are very sorry Darcy” The woman said but I was utterly horrified, the worst possible scenarios kept popping into my mind faster than capability of pushing them away. He was roaming free and I was completely vulnerable, I could no longer feel safe as I had previously.

The lady had come over to me and was patting my back, obviously not bothering to show me any of her papers and discuss further actions.

“It’s okay” I managed to croak out, feeling guilty for probably the longest awkward silence in history. I wiped my cheeks of their wetness and looked up at the lady who had kneeled in front of me and was smiling sympathetically. Her expression was enough to make me feel better and after I had returned a small smile, she stood up.

“Is there anything you would like to further discuss?” She asked, waiting to either sit down again or collect her things and leave.

“No, no I’m fine” I half mumbled, glancing up at her again to make sure she had heard me.

“Okay then, we will get back in contact with you if anything arises” I said my goodbyes and led her to the door, shutting it behind her and placing my face in the palms of my hands.

How could things possibly get any worse?