8- I'm not a rabbit

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Sleep is kind of like an escape. You close your eyes, fast forward a couple hours, and shut out everything that you're thinking or feeling. Temporarily, you're unconscious, completely dead to the world with only your dreams as a companion, if you have any.

There are also those nights where sleep eludes you. Where you toss and turn for hours, never able to shut your mind down long enough to actually hit your REM cycle. This happened to be one of those tortuous night, since being tied to a bedpost next to a hot criminal isn't exactly something I can just stop thinking about.

I tried just about every position known to man, desperate to get comfortable. I couldn't, the only success of the night being that we didn't even come close to touching each other. It seemed both of us couldn't stay close enough to the edge, afraid of what would happen if we even grazed each other. In a bed. At night. 

By morning, I was stiff, my wrist sore. Tyler got up before me and quietly removed himself from the bed before walking to the bathroom. He didn't even glance my way as he left, assuming that I was still asleep. 

I sat up in the bed and waited anxiously for his return, desperate to pee. I stretched my free arm and felt a throbbing pain in my head from the hit I endured yesterday. It was the only time Tyler intentionally hurt me, yet somehow I trusted he wouldn't do it again. 

Ten minutes later, he came strolling back in with just a towel wrapped around his waist. I took a gulp as I stubbornly fixed my gaze on his, resisting the urge to check out his now wet and glistening abdomen. 

"Sorry." He muttered as he walked over to my side of the bed. "I didn't realize you were awake." 

I didn't say anything as I watched him reach out to untie me, his hands hesitating for a moment once he saw how red the skin had become. As soon as I was free, I ran to the bathroom and relieved myself after having to go for the past six hours. 

As I stepped back out into the living room, I saw Tyler was already dressed to go out. 

"I have to run to the store." It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he just stood awkwardly in the kitchen for a minute, staring at me. "I have to tie you up."

"Oh come on. Really?"

"Yeah. I'll only be gone for an hour."

I glared at him, though I wasn't sure why I was mad. I understood why he was doing this and whatever he did to restrain me, I could probably get out of. 

Suddenly having an idea, I agreed.

Tyler was surprised by my change of heart but didn't question it. He pulled out some duct tape from a drawer and and led me to a kitchen chair, where I obediently sat down. Tying my wrists together behind my back first, he then moved on to my ankles and secured each of those to a leg of the chair.  It was the most thorough job he'd done so far but it wasn't impossible to get out of.

As I watched him walk out of the apartment, I only had one thought:

Challenge accepted.

The first step was getting myself to the kitchen. I slowly scooted my way to one of the cupboards, the wooden legs of the chair scraping against the floor. Positioning myself in front of a round knob that was level with my hands, I started scraping the tape against it. It took at least ten minutes, and it was painful, but it was working. I broke through the tape and threw it in a ball onto the ground before unwrapping my ankles. Once that was done, I was free. 

Helping myself to some cereal, I awaited my captor's return. 

By the time Tyler got back, I was on the couch watching television. He walked into the kitchen slowly, bags of groceries in his arms, eyes on me.

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