Sadistically Sweet (Watty Awards Finalist 2012)

A Shattered Dove Part 2

I remained silent for many long minutes before I could answer her.

"It's complicated," was all I managed to say.

"How?" Olivia continued.

"I- I just can't explain it to you at this moment. Maybe when you're older."

She bit her lip in frustration and had began to question me once more.

"Well, then can I ask another question?" 

"Go ahead," I said, even though I was afraid of her drilling curiosity. 

I knew she had started realize that something strange was up. She had probably just been trying to clear her confusion, but I feared I would only further it.

"Why do you spend so long in the bathroom?" she asked.

For a split second my face showed concern, but then I wiped the look off my face. Had I really spend so much time in the bathroom that it had become a concern of her? I guess so. Now that I had thought about it, I was always in the bathroom. Sometimes I didn't even remember going in there, but it still had happened. 

"It depends. Most of the time I just need alone time. I have no where in this house to go when I want to just be by myself, and the bathroom is the closest thing I have to it. Although, recently I have been getting sick, so sorry if I'm in there too much," I finally replied.

What I had said was mostly the truth. I had needed alone time sometimes, but most of the time was spent freaking out and determining my next move. It was my strategy move. It was also true, though, that I had spent many minutes getting sick from Francis's haunting actions. Every time I though of my skin crawling with his touch I felt bile rise up my throat. 

"Oh," was Olivia's only reply.

She sat with her hand cradling her head and chewing her lip. She looked like she was making some serious life decisions, like I had made only minutes before this conversation had began.

"Is that all?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Olivia, is something wrong? You can tell me anything," I said, getting worried. 

Little miss sunshine had been all smiles until she returned from her trip. From that point on she had always looked like she was debating something. Her actions today only solidified my belief that she was catching on.

"No." she replied, although her eyes never met my own.

I had decided to give up, not wanting to drill her for information she didn't have. 

Opening the door, I glanced back at her one last time before I would go downstairs. She still sat in the same position, never moving. I had felt bad leaving her to her thoughts, but I had my own problems to work out. 

When I passed the fourth door again, I notice that the light had been turned off. Before I left this house I would make it me mission to find out what laid behind that door. For all I knew, Francis was hiding Olivia's mom. Although that was unlikely. 

On the couch sat Francis, reading a book. I knew I had to confront him, but it still caused knot in my stomach. 

"Francis?" I asked. 

My voice came out more of a squeak than a statement.

"Hey Sugar," he replied.

He closed his book and a smile split across his face when his eyes laid on me. He sickening expression made me want to look away, but I  held my ground. He patted the seat next to him but I just crossed my arms and glared.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sounding slightly worried. 

He stood up and wrapped his arms around my sides. I wouldn't let him, though, and pulled myself away.

"Francis, just stop. I can't deal with this anymore. I don't want to get married, I don't love you, just give up!" I said in a harsh whisper.

My words wiped the smile off his face, but he didn't back down. Instead, he stepped closer and placed his hands at my sides once more. 

"Sugar, you are just getting cold feet. I know it all happened so soon, but I know we're ready for this. We love each other, and nothing can take that away," he said with admiration in his eye.

Meanwhile, my eyes filled with fire at his disgusting words. Had he not heard anything I had just said?

"Francis, no," I started, but was quickly shut up.

His lips crashed upon my own, making my words fall on deaf ears. I tried pulling away but he pinned me against the wall. His motions went from compassionate to animal-like, tearing at my lips. No matter how hard I fought back, he still forced me under his will. 

My eighteenth birthday, and my kidnapper changed from 'loving' to lustful. I think I would prefer his sick, twisted, one-sided 'love' over lust any day.