Chapter 3

I sigh as the door to my make-shift infirmary slams open with a 'BANG'. I don't even bother to look towards the door, already knowing who the culprit of such a disturbance is.

"It's been three. Fucking. Days." The culprit of the death of my peace and quiet hisses, drawing out his words.

His words ring true, three days have passed since I woke up from being sedated.

"Be patient Jeff. She was in pretty bad shape. She's still suffering from severe malnutrition, she won't be able to make the journey back home in this condition," My pseudo doctor replies, a hint of annoyance edging his words.

Jeff has been non-stop pestering him about my slow recovery rate. Though E.J. had no intention of telling him that he had been struggling to get me to eat properly. I have been protesting every meal, despite my gnawing hunger, in hopes that I would eventually pass from starvation. This is the only way I'll be able to rid myself of Jeff. This way I can finally be free. I think to myself every time I feel the hunger becoming almost too much to bear.

E.J. has been trying to approach my situation sympathetically, he figured out quickly what my intentions were. However, if Jeff ever came to know that I was purposely not eating my food, his approach would not be the same. Though he will know soon, it's clear to see I've only lost more weight. You can tell from just one glance I've not improved even a little.

"How much longer are we going to have to hole up in this shitty ass safe house?" Jeff questions furiously, displeased by the situation I've put all of us in.

Just a little longer and you can leave. I have no intentions of leaving this damned cabin alive. I'll make this place the place where I take my final breaths. I think numbly to myself, already feeling resolved in the fate I have chosen for myself.

"I'm not sure, she doesn't seem to be recovering properly. I do need you to leave, it's time for her next meal Jeff. Your presence only hinders my work," He replies almost blandly.

Jeff gives a frustrated grunt and accentuates his exit with another door slam. I hear E.J. pick up something metal. Most likely my meal that will go to waste. I think to myself. I only refocus my gaze when he sets the tray on my lap. I gaze down at it, somewhat longingly. There, sitting on the tray, taunting me, was my favorite food, lasagna. I swallow as I gaze down at it.

"What is this E.J.? Have you resorted to dirty tricks to get me to eat something?" I ask accusingly.

He lets out a long sigh.

"I have to do something, at the rate you're going, you'll be dead in two days. Your body can't handle going without food for much longer," He informs gently as if that will change my mind.

"You already know what my goal is, don't pretend you don't know what my goal is, E.J. We both are well aware of the fact that I don't intend to leave here alive. I will go back over my cold. Dead. body," I state matter of factly, making sure to draw out my last sentence. I continue to stare down at my meal, the smell making me momentarily question my resolve.

"Jeff isn't stupid, he is going to figure that you have been denying your meals. He already found uneaten food in the garbage. He-" E.J. is interrupted mid-sentence by the door slamming open again.

My gaze shifts to the doorway, to find the only person I'd expect to be standing there.

"I fucking knew it," He hisses, seething with anger.

He approaches slowly, his combat boots accentuating each step as he grows closer. He's trying to make me scared. Thinking to myself, unmoved by his actions. Perhaps this would have worked if I hadn't already decided that I was going to die. I continue to stare on blankly.

"Your tactics won't work anymore Jeff. You're not going to get the reaction you crave. I'm not letting you take me alive, you're either going to have to kill me or let me wither away and die. Make your choice. I won't let you have control over my life anymore, Jeff. I'm going to take charge now," I spit out spitefully.

He snaps and grabs my face, holding it so tightly my cheeks begin to hurt. He can't stand not being in control of my actions, I'm far too aware of that fact by now. He starts to laugh, a low, dark, deprived laugh.

"You're in control are you?" he questions venomously.

He can't help but let out another set of demented giggles. He leans in, his mouth right next to my ear.

"Honey, you haven't been in control since I claimed you. No, in fact, you have never been in control of your life, not even before your birth into this world," He hisses into my ear.

He pulls away, finally releasing my face.

"Don't forget, love, we were meant to be together. It was fate that made you mine. It was always your destiny to end up at my side. It was destiny and there is nothing that you could have done to change that," he spits, a sneer spreading across his scarred face.

He's delusional. He's obsessed with me and can't even come to terms with his feelings. He's in denial. Though I don't want his words to be true, somewhere deep down I know them to be true.