Stockholm Syndrome

Chelsea? Why would he called that? Why won't he call me by my real name? I've been thinking about his all night. I haven't even closed my eyes yet. I'd wait for something to happen, but I was still alone. I was still a hostage.

"Chelsea? How did you sleep?" The Man In The Anonymous Mask asked, trotting down the stairs with a breakfast tray. I sat up straighter so I looked more alert.

"I didn't sleep." He cocked his head to the side showing confusion. I glare at him in a 'you know why' kind of way. He sat back in the position he was in yesterday.

"I've got you a bowl of oats with banana slices and a Fiber One bar. I can get you more if you'd like." And idea popped into my head like switching on a lightbulb.

"Apple juice please?" He nodded and rushed up the stairs. I take all the things off the tray and hold it up as a weapon. He comes back with the juice. I swing at him but he dodges right in time, dropping the apple juice in the process. He grabs the tray from me and throws it across the room.

"Sit down!" He yelled for the first time. To make it even worse he pulls out a small knife. I cringe and rush back to where I was supposed to be.

"Please let me go. I won't tell. I swear." I said with tears streaming down my face. The Man In The Mask looked away from me.

"It's not my choice, Chelsea." He said. That's not my name but I don't say anything. He paced back and forth playing with the small knife in his hand.

"He wanted a stockholm syndrome. I had no choice. I never wanted to hurt you." He spoke fast, clearly scared. That makes two of us.

"W-what's your name?" I asked to calm him down. He was a scared man with a knife. He needed the comfort. The Man In The Mask stopped to look at me. Slowly, he pulled off his mask.

"My name is Luke. Luke Hemmings." My eyes widen in shock. I didn't think he would pull off his mask. He was actually... beautiful I'd call it. I already knew his hair was perfect but I didn't think he was absolutely perfect. He had these bright blue eyes and a lip ring. No! He's a kidnapper! Stop thinking this stuff!

"I-I'm Ari-"

"No you're not! You're Chelsea!" He yelled. I've made him mad. This can't end well. I wipe my eyes to get rid of the tears.
"I didn't mean to make you angry." I say softly, curling into a ball. He sighed and sat in front of me.

"I'm not angry. I'm just upset that you don't like me. I'm trying to be nice to you but you're turning down all my offers. And I give you a name and you just change it. Your name is Chelsea now." I nodded and started to eat my oatmeal. I look into his bright blue eyes. He doesn't want to hurt me, I can see that.

"You are very handsome, Luke." I say. He smiled wide at my compliment. I'm just trying to be nice. But he really is. Why do the hot guys have to be bad?

"Do you want more apple juice?" I shake my head and take a bite out of my Fiber One bar. He watched me eat which made me uncomfortable.

"I want to go home." I say. Luke sighed rather loudly. He set his knife next to him.

"This is your home now."

"No it isn't! Home is where you're supposed to be happy! I'm not fucking happy! I want to go home!" I yelled, refusing to cry. I've cried too much. Luke clenched his jaw.

"You are never leaving here! You're mine and no one can take you!" He snapped like a rubber band. I didn't curl away this time.

"You're a psychopath!" I yelled. He stands up and slaps me across the face, making me fall over. It burned bad. I hold my cheek and let my tears fall.

"You're a liar! You said you'd never hurt a woman!" I scream. He looked at me like he was shocked he did that. He tried to say something but words didn't come out. Before I could say my own name he was running up the stairs.

My eyes wander to his knife he left. There is nothing to live for. I've lost pretty much everything. My mum died when I was born and my dad died from DOD when I was 14, leaving me to take care of my brother Teddy who soon died from a cancer last year. Plus my best friend died the day I was kidnapped.


What else was there to live for? I crawl over to the knife and open it up. In the blade I saw my reflection. Who was that girl? Her hair was a mess and her face was as pale as a ghost, besides the red mark on her cheek.

I put the blade to my wrist and cut my skin. My blood crawls out of the wound and pours everywhere. It didn't hurt that much. I continue my suicide mission and cut several other times, each time deeper that the other.

"Chelsea!" I hear a faint scream. I feel myself getting dizzier and dizzier by the second. The voice picks me up and carries me up the stairs. We go into a bathroom where he pulls out his First Aid Kit

"No... D-don't save... me." I say, breaths getting slower. He dabs the blood with a paper towel, which didn't help at all.

"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no." Luke said, echoing. Or maybe that was just me. A bunch of other people barge into the bathroom. They surround me and pitch in to save me.

"Stop... Let me die..." I breath. Luke looked at me. He was getting blurry.

"I'm not going to lose you, Chelsea. Your all I got left." What did he mean? I furrow my eyebrows and look over at the others. They were still wearing masks.

"I can't lose you. No now. Not ever." Then everything went black.

I woke up in a big bed. I look around, hoping this was all a dream. It didn't look like my room or Toni's. I look down at my wrists to see they've been wrapped. The walls of the strange room had many posters. ACDC, Blink-182, Coldplay, Nickleback. You can't see the actual walls because of all the posters.

"Chelsea?" I look up to see Luke walking in. I look away fast. What happened? I try unwrapping my bandages but Luke stops me by putting his hand on mine. We look into each other's eyes.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" He asked softly. I look away and stare at his posters. Luke crawled into the bed beside me and lays on his back.

"What's your story?" I look at him with a shocked look. He wants to get to know me? He looked at me in a way I didn't understand.

"I-I was born in Chicago before my mom died. Then we moved here to be with my grammy. Daddy died when I was fourteen and Teddy died last year. I don't have anyone." I say, remembering the look on Teddy's face when I said he could let go of he wanted.

"I lost my dad when I was five. He didn't die, sadly. He was a drunk and he hit my mum a lot. I'm not sure where he is now. My brothers don't talk to me anymore and don't trust me with any of their wives. I'm lonely in this world." He said. I look at him. That makes two of us. We talk for hours about silly things. Stories that we remember and our favorite things. It was like a whole knew part of Luke that everyone should see.


"-he didn't even know I did it. That's probably why Ben hates me so much." He finished his story. I laugh loudly. I didn't even notice our position. He had his arm wrapped around my shoulder and I was holding his hand. I didn't want this moment to end for some reason.

"Tell me about your family. What were they like?" Luke asked after a bit of silence. I smile at the memory.

"My dad was a recorder. Well, a wanna-be recorder. He'd have all this equipment that he said he'd use but never did. Teddy and I would joke him all the time about it. He didn't work so we were short on money but he'd say that we were worth so much already.

"Then one year, he just shut us out. He became extremely depressed. He'd walk around in his robe and slippers with a frown permanently plastered to his face. I told Teddy that Daddy would be okay...

"He died from a drug overdose the night of Mom's fourteenth year dead and my birthday. I couldn't save him in time. Teddy would tell me that his soul already died but his body refused to let go." I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces. I remembered the face Teddy had at his funeral. He was only 4.


"Teddy and I lived with Grammy. We would put on a fake smile whenever she was near to show her we were okay. But we weren't. Teddy was diagnosed with leukemia 2 years ago and died last year. He'd smile all the time and say that God chose him." A tear slid down my cheek. He was a strong 6 year old.


"I bet they were great people, Chelsea." I don't mind the name anymore. I didn't mind being around Luke, either.

"They were. They really were."

Notes

Holy crap!

People like this story!

Even my parents say I'm talented!

i love you guys so much!

Keep them comments coming and I'll try my best every time.

Merry Christmas Eve!!

~Chelsea :) :) :) :)