Annabelle
I barely slept when I was suppose to, I barely ate despite Harry's constant pleading for me to do so, and I couldn't take in a breath of air without the fear of when my last breath would be taken.
I couldn't do anything.
I was like a gallon of milk that'd gone sour once reaching its expiration date; I was gone.
I couldn't stop thinking that Harry had never mentioned a Bella being dead. He told me that Gemma was dead and the only solution to this whole fiasco that I could come up with was that Harry was going to kill me.
Not only was Gemma's name already on the gravestone, but my supposed name was too and despite me having any detective skills since the highest my hopes for myself go are graphic design, I knew that something wasn't right. Harry wasn't telling me something.
And the worst possible scenario on my end was that Harry was going to kill me. But in my mind, I already felt dead, so why not be dead?
Two days since the cemetery with Harry have turned into two days of me living in absolute fright and unsurety on what my purpose staying at Harry's house was. The most information I could subtly get out of him was that he didn't work, his job was supposedly to take care of me and he inherited money after his parent's death, allowing him to live freely.
But, of course Harry didn't tell me that in a proper manner, he kept asking me if I was worried about us not having enough money, or if I wanted him to work because I never did tell him I love him and to him that must mean I hate him. He's not wrong about that.
I could barely even keep track of what day it was anymore, I had given up on that yesterday. What did it matter anyway? I was going to die soon, anyway.
"Babe!" Harry called, opening the door to "my room" and closing it behind him. I was seated dully on the center of my bed with my legs crossed, eyes focused in on my lap. Harry didn't sound like he was going to kill me. "I told you to come down for dinner ten minutes ago. Are you okay?" Harry's eyebrows were knitted together with nothing but concern and I was glad when I noticed his hands were empty, no sight of any weapon on his body.
"I'm fine." I whispered, feeling the bed shift beside me as Harry suddenly got on top of it, wrapping his arms around my torso and pulling me back into a laying position beside him.
"No you're not." Harry mumbled, his breath hitting the side of my face as he spoke. He kissed my cheek gracefully, letting his lips linger there before pulling away, forcing me on my side so I was facing him. "You have to tell me what's wrong so I can make it better."
"I, I'm scared." I decided to confess to Harry, feeling his grip on me tighten from the very words.
"Don't be scared, Bella. You have me, I'm taking care of you, now. I love you."
"You, you're going to kill me." I cried, keeping my voice quieter than Harry's as tears began to leak out of my eye sockets.
"No! No, I'm not letting that happen again!" Harry shouted, his voice suddenly becoming angry and fearful as he hugged me tighter and closer to his chest, repetitively kissing my forehead as I tried to make sense of what he was talking about. "I'm never letting you go, Bella." Harry seemed to be trying to convince himself, sounding to be on the verge of crying, like me.
"I'm, I'm sorry." I tried to apologize, my body suddenly released from Harry's arms. Using his grip on my waist, Harry got me to straddle him, making sure to keep me in place by his hands resting on my hips.
"Come on, baby, kiss me." Harry grinned, surprising me as he seemed to have completely switched moods. I shook my head, refusing to do as Harry said, knowing that there was no way out of my situation, but at the very least, I could try. Harry groaned at my non-compliance, suddenly forcing me downwards by his grip around me, our lips merely centimeters away.
It wasn't like I wasn't use to kissing Harry for he tended to always find a way to have us be in a situation where we kissed, but I didn't want to be the one initiating the kiss. It wasn't right.
"S-Stop, Harry." I begged, knowing that there was no way I could get myself out of it. Although in certain situations I could guilt him into leaving me alone, this obviously wasn't one of them judging by Harry's thrilled expression.
"No." Harry shook his head, grinning while he stretched out the single syllabled word and suddenly pulled me directly on top of him, using one of his hands to press my head against his and have our lips meet.
I froze when Harry rested his other hand on my bum, lightly squeezing it before allowing his large hand to rest there. My eyes were wide open, staring at Harry's closed eyelids as I had no choice but to remain in place for I couldn't exactly move.
"H-Harry." I tried to mumbled against Harry's lips to catch his attention. He allowed me to pull away from him a bit, thankfully, so I could get out what I wanted to. "The, the dinner, isn't it getting cold?"
"It's not nearly as important as us, Bella." Harry informed me as I tried to sit up.
I didn't want to be on top of Harry, for our most intimate parts were touching and it wasn't entirely a comforting thought. He allowed me to straddle his waist and I was too scared to do anything else and attempt to get off of him altogether, who knows what would happen then.
I let out an uncomfortable sigh, watching Harry closely as he seemed to be debating something. It was silent for a bit as I diverted my gaze to my headboard, noticing how the wood was identical to my previous one.
"Unzip my pants."
"What?" I gulped, growing frantic as I tried to slide down Harry's legs centimeter by centimeter to get off of him.
"Just pull the zipper down and undo the button, baby." My eyes were wide in alert, my breathing picking up as Harry stared at me with an unspecified glint in his eyes. I couldn't tell what he wanted from me, but I did know that it wasn't good.
"N-No." I shook my head, trying to stand up for myself as calmly and confidently as possible, although it seemed to be proving itself impossible as my body began to quiver.
Harry sat up from his laying position and grabbed my hands, guiding them down to his front and over the zipper.
"There, baby, see it's not so hard." Harry encouraged me and I could tell he was mentally trying to convince himself that it wasn't that I didn't want to unzip his trousers, I just didn't know how.
"S-Stop, please." I cried, watching as Harry forced my fingers to unzip and unbutton his pants.
"Shh." Harry hushed me, bringing his finger to my lips to try to quiet me down as he held a small smile on his face. "We use to do this all the time, Bella."
"What?"
"You, you remember, don't you?" Harry's face suddenly fell, noticing how confused and lost I was.
"I, um," I didn't know what to say, the words just wouldn't come out of my mouth as Harry grew more and more panicked as the seconds ticked on.
"No! No, you have to remember!" Harry shouted at me as I got off of him out of fear, quickly scrambling to get to the other side of the bed shakily. "I, I can make you remember." Harry tried to convince himself, suddenly smiling again, only proving how unstable he actually was.
All too quickly, Harry's jeans were on the floor beside the bed and he was leaning over my shaking body, truly convincing himself that whatever he was going to do was going to work.
My hand was took kindly into Harry's, and for a second, I was confused on what exactly he was about to do. Maybe the very slightly innocent part of me had arrive, making me completely oblivious and the tears to stop rolling down my face for a brief second, but that didn't last long.
Harry's large hand pressed my smaller one against the front of his boxers as I could feel that he was large beneath my hand and it felt so wrong. Maybe I had done this before, but not like this, not by force and with tears drying as they streamed down my face.
Harry moaned and grinned all at once as he pressed my hand further against him, lightly making my hand squeeze him as I suddenly could feel him getting hard against my palm. Oh no.
None of this was right.
I knew I could've gotten it worse with a different kidnapper, but Harry was unstable, psychotic.
"I, I remember." I lied to Harry, watching as his eyes widened in surprise and excitement. His grip around my hand loosened and despite the fact that he was sporting an undeniable boner, he seemed to completely forget about it as he enveloped me in a hug, squeezing me tight against him.
"I knew you could never forget." Harry informed me with against the top of my head, allowing his fingers to get tangled within my hair as he kissed me. "We're meant to be." He whispered, his lips suddenly moving to the shell of my ear as I remained laying on the bed, my back flat against the mattress in fear.
I was a bit more at ease than before and felt a lot more safe in Harry's presence, knowing that he was happy and no longer had something to prove. It was like if Harry was happy, the whole atmosphere was good and happy, but if he wasn't, it was dangerous.
"Come on, we should probably get to dinner."
The dinner was cold, the soup no longer edible and more than soggy, floating in our plates. Harry had insisted on ordering a pizza, saying it was a treat and that the place he was getting it from was healthy for a pizza shop.
I noticed how Harry unlocked the front door after ordering the pizza, and despite the fact he slipped his phone into his pocket afterwards, a sliver of hope arose in me at the sight of the unlocked door, just taunting me to try and escape.
While we waited for our food to arrive, we both seated ourselves in the living room, Harry pulling me onto his lap as he kissed my wrist, tracing the tattoo with his index finger.
"I have to go to the bathroom, love." Harry informed me, kissing my cheek as he lifted me onto the cushion beside him and stood from the couch. "If the pizza guy comes, I want you to give him the money on the side table and take the food. I'm trusting you with this." Harry told me, worry in his voice as he seemed to be unsure on whether or not to trust me with such a huge task.
I could escape.
The only problem with me attempting to escape, was that it seemed the second Harry went to the bathroom, the doorbell rang, signalling that the pizza delivery guy was here. I spotted a black sharpie beside the money that was left on the table, eyeing it suspiciously before doing the unthinkable.
I rushed to scribble down two words on the note, scrambling to answer the door.
"I've got your pizza. That'll be fifteen twenty." The guy was young looking, a bright smile taking over his face when he saw me.
"Uh, yeah, here." I made sure the note I had written on was facing upwards so he'd see it for sure, accepting the large pizza box and bringing it into my arms. "Thanks." I smiled, watching as he glanced at the money just as I could hear Harry's footsteps approaching. "I've got to, uh, go." I rushed out, convincingly sending him a look of fright in hopes he'd catch on.
I closed the door in the guy's face as his features turned into a scowl at the money I had handed him, him seeming to be confused at the words I had made sure to visibly write on the colorful, paper money.
"Did you hand him the money?" Harry asked, taking the box of pizza out of my hands for me.
I nodded, mumbling a yes as I followed him into the dining room where he had set up plates for us to eat.
There was no doubt that the pizza smelled good and I was actually excited to eat something that wasn't completely healthy for once. It felt like forever since I had take out, when it had really only been about a week, I wasn't very sure.
I couldn't help but grin to myself as I realized I might've had a chance to get out of Harry's home. Harry noticed my happy mood too and smiled back at me, handing me a slice of pizza before telling me to be careful with the crust.
The "help me" written on the note had to do it, of course the pizza delivery guy would get help, of course he would.
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Do you think he's going to help her?