The Test

Chapter 20

This had been a bad idea. I had tried to take the advice my therapist had given me, trying to get some closure from what happened to me, but I realized that I shouldn't have come.

I was just about to get up and bolt when the door across the room from me opened, and in walked Timothy with two guards leading him along. His hands were shackled together connected to a long chain that lead to the leg irons around his ankles.

In his hands he carried a rolled up stack of paper that he clutched tightly as he shuffled across the room. His blond hair was longer now; it went just below his shoulders, and was held back in a ponytail. He had also grown a beard, which was something I wasn't used to seeing on his face. While I knew him, he had always been clean shaven.

When he saw me waiting for him, his face lit up like a kids on Christmas day. He was smiling broadly at me, but I was so stunned that I could only stare back at him. He sat down at the table, and the guards unshackled his hands, but attached the cuffs on his feet to the table so that he couldn't move. Then, they left without another word.

"This is a surprise," he said, his usual husky tone reminding me of years before when we were dating. I curled my hands into fists under the table to try and stop the shaking.

"I thought since I was in town I would pay you a visit," I said, unable to bring my voice above a whisper.

"Ah yes, I heard about Derek's father. Such a ...tragedy. Please, send him my deepest condolences."

"How did you know about that," I croaked, my heart banging against my ribcage in fear. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

He leaned in close to me, a smirk on his face. "Leila sneaks me in the paper every night if I have good behavior during the day. I like being informed of what's going on in the outside world."

Leaning back, he smoothed out the papers on the table in front of him, and pulled out a pencil from his pocket. I could see that the paper was crammed with writing, so small that I couldn't make out what was written.

"I'm better now you know," he said, focused on the paper. He was adding words to a tiny, open space at the bottom of the sheet. "I've been taking my medications, and I don't see my dad anymore. The urges to hurt you have gone away as well so you don't need to be afraid."

"That's...great I guess. I'm glad," I said but my mind was going crazy. He seemed a little odd, but there was no evidence of the craziness that everyone claimed he had.

"Can I ask you something?" I said, relaxing my hands so that they rested flat against my thighs.

"Anything."

"Why did you do it? Why did you take me, and all those other girls?"

He looked at me, his face deathly calm. "Because I had to, my Layna. But don't worry, you weren't anything like them. They meant nothing to me, but you...you're special. You passed the test. And when I get out of here, you and I will be together again."

I stood up, my whole body shaking; I had to leave and I had to do it right now. "It was great seeing you but I have somewhere I need to be."

Timothy stared at me as I stood up, his eyes narrowing at my stomach.

"You're a liar!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the room. His hand tightened around the pencil as his eyes darkened with anger, "You promised!"

Before I could even comprehend what was happening, he had whipped the pencil at my face, catching me in the cheek. Within seconds he was standing up and struggling against the chains the held him to the table. He yelled profanities as he tried to get towards me.