Trapped in Paradise

Chapter Nine

The next day, wearing a lilac dress and ribbon, Grace goes to breakfast feeling more tired than normal. She'd spent the night suffering through nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat and having to splash cold water on her face, before attempting sleep again.

She's not even sure what the dreams were about this time. They were both normal and not, her usual horrors mixed with elements of the new.

She remembers feeling the crunch of a car as it drove into the side of her parent's minivan. She remembers the terror as her father's head lolled to the side, staring at her without seeing, red leaking from his ear. She could taste the blood on her tongue, hear the firefighters trying to calm her, feel the rain beating down on her head.

Normally, it would just be her parents' deaths and the immediate aftermath, but things in this particular night-time trauma were different. Around the edges of the wreckage stood new people, people she had seen around this particular house, but never outside. They were shouting things at her, things she couldn't understand, and she needed to know what they were saying. She knows that whatever they are saying is instrumental in understanding why she has to suffer through this. But the words are garbled, drowned out by the rain, distorted by the blood pumping in her ears, incomprehensible in her shock.

The dream would fade away, and she would scream silently to herself, rolling out of the bed.

Now that she's awake, she knows it's not that unusual for dreams to change, but she's met hundreds of people since that day, and they've never made an appearance in her reoccurring nightmare. So, why now? Is it because this in itself is like an extended bad dream? Is it something else?

"You seem out of sorts today, Young Miss," Butler comments as they walk through the house.

Eyes feeling puffy, body tired, and brain wrapped in cotton wool, Grace can't think of anything to respond with. Words don't seem particularly inclined to travel from her brain to her mouth. Instead, she hums. It's all she has the energy to convey, not that she really wants to talk at all. There's nothing that can come out of that conversation.

"Are you sick?"

Grace shakes her head, and Butler accepts it without another word. She sits at the table and stares at the spot that Sir will soon occupy. She wishes she could just put her head on the table and attempt sleep again, but she's sure that it won't be allowed.

She hears whispering on the other side of the room, and she turns to see Sir being spoken to by Butler. They both appear worried but are they worried about her wellbeing, or about the fact that her use to them, which is already paper-thin, will soon diminish. Maybe if she allows herself to fall into a sense of disconnectedness, they'll be forced to let her go?

No.

If Butler is to be believed, they'd rather kill her than allow her to leave. She'd rather attempt some less dangerous options first.

"Butler says you're not having a good day," Sir says conversationally as he sits down.

There's a forced calm to his words. Even with her slow thought process, she can recognize the strain. Why would that be? There's no way they truly care about her welfare. No way they'd bat an eye if she were to become severely depressed. If they did, they wouldn't have kidnapped her. She's certain of that.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Grace shakes her head. She doesn't want to talk about anything with these people. Besides, what is she supposed to say? She had nightmares? There's exactly nothing they can do about that.

"If you change your mind, you can let Butler know and I will make myself available."

Earnest promises from a man that is holding her captive is strange, but he's probably unhinged, so it shouldn't really be a surprise. She is, however, quite intrigued by the idea that she could see Sir outside of mealtimes. Not that she's inclined to spend more time with him than necessary, but she is curious about learning about what he does with his days.

Grace nods and then picks at her breakfast. She's not hungry today, even if the fruit salad looks good. She shakily drinks through her designated caffeine ration, hoping that it'll wake her up a bit, but she's not sure just how much it can combat this bone-deep tiredness she's experiencing today. If anything, it's just making her feel sick.

"I'll see you at lunch," Sir says as he wipes his mouth with the napkin. "Have a pleasant day."

Once Sir has left, Grace is taken to the lobby and then left to her own devices. She immediately heads towards the library. She wants to just read and relax in one of those massive chairs the room seems to favour.

She curls up, dropping her shoes to the floor, and opens the book.

Things are not always good, things are not always bad, but if there is one constant, it's that things always are. For Carlos, this is a concept he's struggled with for his entire life. He does not know when he will lose interest in life, and when he will regain it again, but it's a back and forth he's suffered with for as long as he's been alive.

Grace has always loved this book. In her darker days, it was a true reflection of her own struggle. She could never understand why she didn't just want to die all the time. She had endless reasons to be disenfranchised with her life, and sometimes it hit harder than others, but she could wake up one day with such excitement for the future that she would fall into a flurry of activity, doing whatever she should to make that future happen, and other times she would wake up and not want to see the end of the day.

This book put those feelings into words for her. She appreciated what it meant in a way that others are fortunate enough to never empathize with. She experiences the words in a way that resonates so deeply with her that she can almost imagine that she is Carlos.

Justin. J. Allen has always managed to do that. To take aspects of her life and write them into stories. It helps to make her feel less alone, knowing that she isn't the only one who is suffering the way she is. Before she found the book, she assumed she was alone.

It's horribly comforting to know that she's not.

Grace has fallen asleep. She knows this only because the library has given way to a new environment. She doesn't recognise where she is, but there's a pleasant warmth to the area. It's an empty room, so empty that she's not even sure if she's there or not. The walls are pale pink, the floor white, and the windows look out over a calm lake. Tree's surround it, and there is a rowing boat docked to the side. The water is still and covered in lily pads.

It's serene, and it sets all of Grace's worries aside. She walks towards the door, wanting to go outside and sail across the lake when she realises that there is no door. Unease niggles her, and she walks over to the window, ready to open it, only to find that it's a poster. She tears it from the wall, which causes the room to go dark.

She screams, all serenity lost and replaced quickly with a heavy fear. She's trapped, and without a door or a window, she has no conceivable means of escape. No way to leave. She's stuck. She's going to die in darkness, surrounded by walls, never to see anyone, never to have a future.

"Young Miss, you need to wake up."

Grace startles, almost falling from the chair she's sprawled out in. She quickly rights herself, breathing quick, eyes searching the room.

"Are you alright?"

Grace finds a woman stood in front of her, wearing a typical maids outfit, looking concerned.

"No," Grace bites out.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

Grace looks at the woman properly, taking in her features. She's new. Grace is pretty certain that she has met everyone who works here, and she's never seen this woman before. She's young, maybe twenty, and she seems as though she might actually go out of her way to make Grace's life a little easier.

"I don't suppose you could get me away from here?"

It's a long shot, she knows that. All the staff seem horribly content with keeping her locked in, but every opportunity ignored is an opportunity missed.

The woman's eyes widen, and then she bites her lip. She's considering it, Grace realises. She is genuinely thinking about helping Grace escape.

"I'll see what I can do," the maid whispers.

Grace's heart almost bursts with anticipation.