29 Chapter 29th

Sick! How sick! How could he be so sick? Commotion grew inside me again, and I began to thrash anew as I cursed him with every foul word I could think of. Growing impatient, he pressed my mouth shut, grabbed me by the waist and lifted me off the floor, where I could no longer hinder his long stride. And though I kicked and thrashed all the way, my agitation wasn't very demanding on him. He transported me effortlessly through one, then two sets of stairs, swiftly subduing my utmost screams into mere moans when crossing the corridor, the light of day stealing through fresh windows, the calm and silent Sunday afternoon happening outside. Hoisting me under his arm, with his palm firmly holding my face shut, he carried me through the last flight of stairs, the wood creaking under his heavy foot, deeper horrors simmering in my mind.

Finally, he pulled me into his room – the secret room; the padded, prepared room, slowly arranged, built and improved - and right under my nose, too! Arranged for this moment, for these nefarious plans, the past teasing my oblivion in regards to my future.

My heart pounded violently, I could feel it in my ears, I could hear it… raw fear, mingled with birds chirping peacefully outside. Without prior notice, he dropped me from his arms. I braced for the impact, my back arching at the anticipation of hitting the hard floor… Instead, I landed on a soft, bouncy surface. I opened my eyes. My very own mattress had been moved, it now occupied the center of that room. I looked up, Chris walked to the door, as if he'd leave me – lock me in again – but it was worse. He closed it, turned around with his lip slightly pulled at one side in a contained, excited smile. Then I could hear nothing anymore: it was just us and an ungodly silence.

My eyes wandered a fast evaluation just to further alarm me – after all, there was nothing I could do about all the strangeness I found and attributed meaning to at every corner, not anymore. If only I had been so sharp sooner…

Familiar elements were everywhere… and yet, the room was foreign to me, transformed. My own childhood room! The square window had been sealed shut, the walls were completely covered by grey foam, and the floor my mattress lay on… plastic sheets covered it all.

Having done my assessment, my first instinct was to rise – to stand up as if repulsed by that ominous setup, to rush to the door, blind or stupid to the fact that Chris stood between me and the exit. But all it took was going near him: standing under his shadow as he waited there was enough to inspire me to cower and recoil, knowing there was no escaping.

Chris studied me patiently as I reached that conclusion. He watched me as I looked around the room, violently thinking of a way… He saw me wilt, lose hope. And I guess all he could do in response was smile.

"What is this…" I asked, hyperventilating at last when that serene silence seemed to aggravate me more than his threats possibly could. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

The sound of my backwards steps on that plastic sheet… each of them, how maddening!

Hands in his pocket, Chris shrugged and began to slowly pace towards me – more silently than I possibly could. Trained silence, I supposed – a predator's trade!

"This? I'm sure that's just panic talking…" he puckered his lip as he amusedly speculated "…you're smart enough to put two and two together…"

I stepped backwards some more – my breathing was loud, louder than usual. I touched a wall – my overly sensitive skin crawled: soft foam. I turned to face it as if it'd stung me. Suddenly, it looked so grand: the walls, that room, the height of the ceiling… Like a fortress.

"Do you like what I did with the place?" Chris teased, approaching me slowly, being careful not to interfere with my discoveries, as if I was a curious animal to watch. "I've prepared it just for you. You see, in here you can scream all you want, and no one can hear it" He beamed most disturbingly "Somewhat liberating, isn't it? This type of freedom I never really got to enjoy before, but since I've had plenty of time to prepare, I figured it was worth the extra effort."

As Chris resumed his unhurried march towards me, I paced sideways, cornered.

"C'mon…" he smiled warmly "…won't you test it? I know you're aching to." He suggested, finally standing before me - a safe distance, one that served only to stoke fear.

I watched him carefully, attentive to his slightest move. When our eyes met, he winked, encouraging me:

"Go ahead, Abby!" I felt coaxed – strangely coaxed by his friendly smile; it made something turn in my stomach: that calm, sick friendliness. Like a confusing poison distilled into me.

"H-Help!" I cried out begrudgingly, my voice only slightly above normal speech – cowardly turned inward still.

"C'mon!" Chris chuckled "You can do better than that! Don't be shy… big voice, go…" he charmed again, projecting an expectation that didn't match the current circumstances… but that still somehow worked. I gulped, then screamed:

"HELP!"

"Is that the best you can do? You're holding back… why? Don't be afraid… They won't hear you." He encouraged, most humiliatingly – as if I'd be afraid of someone hearing my desperate pleads; As if that awful silence no agony cry could escape from was a good thing for me as it was for him! It made my hyperventilation worsen, made the muscles around my throat harden and spasm.

"Heeeelp!" I screamed again, and then again with all my haggard, choked breath:

"HEEEEELP!!" as loud and as long as I could.

Chris's smile was disturbed by a mere wince as he pressed one index finger to his ear while I carried my scream – after all, he was still locked in there with me, but that was all my vocal efforts boiled down to, so said the amusement in his eyes: mild discomfort.

"Now, that was good" he complimented heartily, before taking another step ahead, breaking that careful distance he had respected only to watch me squirm now that he towered closer.

I didn't look away. For some primal reason, I chose not to … and I couldn't tell what stirred inside of me to inspire it: was it brave defiance? Was it just such raw fear that I couldn't look away? Was I strangely disconnected… strangely out of sorts, as if the entire scene played like a movie? I remember watching his eyelashes, they moved as he observed me, down and up.

Finally, the tip of his fingers brushed lightly against my cheek, and distancing was over.