Dark Country (Detective Loki from Prisoners Fan Fiction)

Part XVII: Epiphany

EMMA

“Get up,” Holly demanded while grabbing me by my elbow and pulling me upwards from my seat on the floor. “It’s time for breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry,” I shouted back as I resisted her.

“Oh you’re going to eat whether you like or not,” Holly said jerking my arm. I wimped from the pain of her tugging sharply at my arm and had no choice but to stand up like she wanted. She could’ve broken my arm, and what good would it do me to have a broken arm?

“All right, all right,” I said getting back on my feet. “You can let go now.”

“Good girl,” she said with a self-satisfactory smile that was suggestive of her wayward plans. “Now move on ahead. Have to keep my eye on you.” With that she motioned for me to walk on ahead of her.

I closely examined all of my surroundings to familiarize myself with the environment. The walls of the house, which was evidently small at probably no more than 1,100 square feet, consisted entirely of wood paneling, and the entire floor was carpeted. I was walking down a hallway when I paused and turned to her. “The dining room is straight down ahead,” Holly objectively said and pointed down the hall. Obligingly, I continued on. Must this be what a prisoner feels when heading to death roll?

A tiny dining area to the left with a circular table and chairs met us, and across from that to the right was a living room area with nothing but a couch, a cushioned chair, and an old-fashioned television set. I took my seat at the table where my breakfast was already laid out before me. My eyes immediately fixated themselves on the bacon and eggs, and that’s when I heard the sounds of the painful hunger pangs coming from my stomach. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I saw the sight of food. The logic of my mind let me know that I shouldn’t even think of trying this. What if she altered the food somehow? However, my body wasn’t so subtle about letting me know that it needed refueling. Hunger was first and foremost a traitor. I held up my tied hands up to Holly. “Please,” I added with a straight face.

“Oh right,” Holly said as she went to loosen my hands, but then suddenly froze mid-action. “On second thought, I think it would be best if I fed you. I can’t trust you.”

All too annoyed, I tsk-tsked and replied, “I’m a grown woman. I can feed myself.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Holly answered as she took her place next to me. “But I need to assure myself that you won’t try anything.”

Well there goes plan A, I thought to myself. Holly was proving to be a very astute woman, and I obviously underestimated her. I remained complacently silent.

“I see you don’t have any further objections,” Holly said as she gathered the fork. “Now be obedient and eat up.”

As she proceeded to literally feed me my breakfast, albeit against my will, I kept thinking of how absurd all this was. The whole situation was deplorable and ridiculous. That I was so helpless was what bothered me the most, and how and why I got into this in the first place didn’t make any kind of sense. I sank deeper into the pervasive melancholy that came with the hopelessness of this dilemma as I thought of the thinning number of options remaining to get out of this mess.