Trapped (A Ticci Toby Story)

Chapter 17- Bleed Like Me

The facet drips and it drips and it drips.
Again and again and again.
I wanted out of here.
I wanted to leave,
But I stay still because I know he will be back.
So I wait.
My knees held against my bare chest and my arms tightly wrapped them.
I don't move because the glass like bath water will shift and lick up my body, causing another chill to come over me.
I don't know how long I've been here,
In this room with soft colors of rose and floral decor, but I try not to count the seconds that slip away from me,

But it's growing hard.

I find myself staring at a neat stack of folded pink towels besides my bath and I'm clinging to the thought of the warmth they would give me.
Of having the will to get up and take comfort in them despite the looming threat of punishment for my actions.
But I know I will never do that.
So I scold myself.
And I bury my face in my knees and shutter with an unwavering sharp chill.

Drip,

Drip,

Drip,

Drip,

Drip,

Drip,

D

R

I

P

The doorknob clicks, and I jump.
But I don't know this man behind the door.
Tall and lean,
I've never seen another adult within these walls.
Anyone, but Tom and Cheryl.
What was he doing here?
How--
He quickly averts his eyes.
"Sorry." He mumbles and I look down at myself.
I was naked in front of this stranger.
How was this possible?
Did Tom know he was here?
"Its... Okay." I whisper in disbelief and tighten my hold on myself.
I know staring is rude, I know I shouldn't do it, but I can't move my eyes.
Was he here by mistake?
What will happen to him?
I fear for him and yet I can't bring myself to tell him to leave this place.
I worry he may listen to me.
And I'll be alone.
I am selfish.
"Are you Jane?" He asks. He look everywhere but at me.
His eyes scan the room, taking in information, but his head remains turned away from me.
He's granting me the decency I have been neglected for so long.
How easily I begin to trust him.
"Y-yes." I try to keep my voice stable, elevate any hint of desperation I may have,
Because it could be taken away from me.
He shouldn't be here.
"where are your clothes?"
"I-I don't know."
I suppose that wasn't what he was expecting to hear.
He rubs the back of his neck and sighs.
"That happens to be a common theme around here."
He crosses the room and blindly grabs a towel, knocking the rest of the stack over onto the floor.
He hands it to me and I take it.
It doesn't bring me warmth like i had hoped.
The hems of the marital floats in the water, as i wrap it around myself, but my body was finally covered.
He looks at me and I see no familiarity, no recognition--nothing to tell me why he was here.
I see his eyes follow mg collar bone, over my shoulder and down my arm and I become utterly aware of how skinny I had become.
"W-Who are you?" I force my words out through through the tightness of my throat. I remember how Toby described them to me, his brothers, the metaphors he used when he told me about their relationship. So I take a shot in the dark. "A-are you Tim?"
His gaze darkens with something I can't read and he pauses, then shakes his head. "Brian."
"Where is T-Toby? Is he okay--?"
"He's safe. Are you hurt?"
"No. I-I'm fine."
"good. We need to go."
"G-go?" I stammer. Just the word causes my heart to beat wildly in my body. Maybe out of fear or maybe for hope, I don't know. "W-where is Tom?"
"I would feel better if I knew the answer to that question myself."
"H-he's not here?"
"No." he shifts impatiently, "He's still after Toby. I would prefer to be out there as well, if thats okay."
"Y-yes, of course." I say and brace my arm on the side of the tub.
I strain, but I am not able to pull myself from the water.
My muscles are locked into place and I am far to weak to stand in such a slick surface on my own.
This is humiliating.
I can feel my cheeks burn a hot pink and I can only assume he noticed because he Asks; "Are you okay?"
I shake my head no,"I... need help."
He nods as if he understood and leans over me and braces his arms under my own. I cling the towel to my chest and help him in any way that I could, but he lifts me with ease.
After my feet were on the ground I quickly move away from him, wanting to end this torment as quickly as possible.
To my relief he doesn't miss a beat. He strides past me to the open door across the hall.
"We need to get you dressed."
I follow him into Cheryl's bedroom and he instantly threw open the closet door. Tearing through colorful fabrics and flowy gowns.
He pulls off a navy green sweater and hands it me, hardly giving me time to take it before he hands me another.
I take it from him and slip it on over the towel.
By the time I finished he was already tearing apart the drawers, tossing aside Jeans and unmentionables until he came across what he was looking for.
Sweatpants that stood out against everything else she had owned.
These weren't hers.
They had belonged to one of the older ones.
The thought caused me to feel sick, but I take them without a word.
Everything else had gone smoothly, socks and shoes, a snow hat he found on the back of the door.
It wasn't until we finally left the room to escape from this farm when we finally came face to face with the one thing I feared so deeply in those moments.
Cheryl.
She wasn't normal.
She wasn't okay.
Something was horribly wrong with her
Beaten and bloodied, Her smile stretched across her face in a wide grin.
And in her hands,
She raises a gun,
A long gun with two deep holes aimed right at us.
This horror, this horrible scene before me--
I can't move.
I can't breathe, think--
It was the man--brian who moved.
He pulled me back into the room when she fires.
Hundreds of small fragments spray across the side if my body sending tiny specks of fiery pain over me.
I stumbled into him and he catches me as he slams the door shut.
He moves me aside and quickly shoves the dresser in front of the door.
"Are you okay?" He asks and I see the droplets of blood beginning to drop down the side of his face.
Cheryl slams into the door and I jump.
"Im fine--"
"Break the window!"
I spin on my heels and quickly search the room for something to use.
The first thing I see.
A lamp on the nightstand by the bed.
I pull it from the wall, its glow snapping off as I did so and I swung it's base into the glass.
It bounces off uselessly.
I hold back a sob as I swing it again.
I can't survive staying here another minute.
I want to go home.
I want my family.
I want my life back.
I swing again and again, the glass webs,
And cracks,
And shatters.
I swipe away the remaining glass, the winter air hitting me like a wall.
Flurries of snow kisses my cheeks.
I reach out, and my fingers wrap around the frozen metal bars, its burns me.
I tug, and I push.
They don't move.
"Brian!" I turn to him. "There's bars! We can't get out!"
He shoves the dresser, that Cheryl managed to move, back against to door and rushes to my side.
He pulls and jerks in the bars and curses under his breath.
"We have to--"
Another shot and he pulls me down to the ground.
Taking cover between the wall and the bed.
I see piece of the door littered across the wooden floor and I begin to panic.
Oh god she's going to kill us!
I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder at the door and I see the large hole she's made. I see her bloody face, her twisted smile...and the barrel of the gun sticking through the hole directly at us.
I don't know when the tears finally started to fall, but once they started, my sobs grew uncontrollable.
"Cheryl stop!" I begged. "Please stop!"
"STOP? WHY WOULD I STOP? This is your doing child! You stupid, STUPID GIRL! I gave you EVERYTHING and you turn your back on me!"
She slams into the door again and again until the door opens enough so push her way through.
Brian's hands tighten on my shoulders,
She in the room,
I scream,
The gun lifts,
And I only see brian's arm reach over me, knocking the gun towards the ceiling as she fires.
Salt spays across the plaster, clumps of chalky white marital to fall over us.
He's on his feet and the gun is out of her hands. He slams the back of it unto her and throws it across the room before she even falls to the ground.
"Move!" he says and he is pulling me with him. I stumbled to keep up with him, but I feel her hot, sticky hand rap about my ankle and I fall.
"Let go of me!" I scream, kicking at her.
Please! No! Please!
"Just let me go!" I beg her.
She grabs ahold of my other foot, and then the back of my swester, then my hair.
Climbing me until I am underneath her, her fist pulling my head back and the other holding something sharp against my throat.
When she speaks, her chin leaves a stamp of warm blood on my forehead.
"Do you think you can shoot me?" she mocks. "You would have done so by know if you had the guts!"
I fight her to inch my head down enough to see him.
He stood over us in the door way. A pistol aimed in our direction.
His face was stone hard, unreadable, practiced.
A wave of nausea passes over me and I close my eyes.
She smells of blood.
I almost couldn't handle it.
I swallowed against the object as the tears fell down my face.
"Cheryl, please just let me go." I whispered. "Please don't do this. Please just let me go. Please."
She lets go of my hair and slaps a hand tightly over my mouth.
I can taste the blood on her fingers.
I am not heard.
"You think you can come into my home and try to escape with my things? The nerve of you stealing from a weak old woman! I should have you arrested!"
He doesn't budge and he shows no signs of backing down. This only frustrates her.
"I don't like threats! If I even think you will shoot that thing, I will slit her throat! Do you understand me? You will not have what is mine! This girl belongs to me!"
She pulls my head back forcefully, forcing another sob out of me.
"You should mind your own business young man and leave my property if you know what's best! This girl is not worth your trouble!"
The gun lowers just a fragment,
And his eyes leave her for the first time and fall to me, then back.
As if he was considering this.
Then he says something that shatters my heart into a million pieces.
"No. She's not."
Then he says to me;
"I do not see another way out of this." he lowers the gun and releases the chamber. "I'm sorry."
His apology is genuine and his expression one acceptance.
He....
He places his gun back into its place and turns..
And leaves.
Neither Cheryl or I move, both of us expecting anything to come of this, but he doesn't come back.
As the realization of my abandonment grows, my sobs grow more and more until I am hyperventilating underneath her bloody hand.
No, no, no, no, no! This can't be happening!
Cheryl snaps out of it and slams my head to the floor, holding me down there.
The large shard of glass she held against my throat clatters to the floor.
"You were trying to escape!"
"No!" I sob
"You FILTHY LITTLE GIRL!" her hand comes down on me, hard against my ear. A painful crack inside my skull and and for countless breaths I can't tell which was is up,
Or which way is down.
"Get up! You little which!"
I get up, I obey her because in the back of my mind I believe if I listen to her, she will stop. She won't hurt me anymore.
In these moments I will do anything to stop her from hurting me.
But she is already pulling towards the bathroom by my hair.
"Filthy little witch! You spoiled little brat!"
Maybe it was by instinct, or maybe because I've seen her this angry before, but I knew once she has me in that room, I wasn't going to leave there alive.
I see the bathtub beyond the door frame, I see my fate.
I dig my heels into the ground.
I reach for the frame,
I try to turn away.
"No! Cheryl please! Stop!"
She hits me again and I shield myself from her heavy hands.
"Stop!"
She hits me again and again.
Breaking me down until something in me snaps.
I hate her.
I have never felt so much hate and anger in my entire life.
I couldn't control myself.
I shoved her away from me,
And she falls.
Catching onto me and pulling me down with her.
For in instant, for just a moment, I was falling and then the next, I was not.
A firm hand catches onto the fabric over my shoulder and I watch her tumble down the stairs until she lies still at the bottom.
I freeze.
My breath caught.
She doesn't get up.
I throw a panicked glimpse over my shoulder to Brian and quickly fly down the stairs.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry, Cheryl!" I drop to my knees and roll her over.
Her eyes stare back at me blankly and her mouth hangs open.
I killed her.
She was dead.
She was dead and I killed her.
"I killed her." I repeat out loud to brian as he came down to meet me at the bottom of the stairs.
He crouched next to me and places his fingers over the side of her neck.
"Are you okay?" He asked quietly after a long pause, completely ignoring the absence of her life.
I shook my head no.
I killed her.
She attached me and I killed her.
He abandoned me.
"Y-you left me."
"I'm sorry, I didn't see another way."
"You could have shot her! Christ!capacitate her! She would still be alive!" I was cold.
So cold I couldn't speak without my teeth chattering.
"She was far too gone for that and believe me, if I could killed her, I would've taken this action personally, it had to end this way."
"So that's it! Y-you abandoned me because you wanted me to do this? If it had t-to be, if you wanted to end her life, why d-didn't you--why didn't you do it? Why did you make me do this?"
"I can't risk bringing any unwanted attention by taking a life."
"You m-mean to police? Are you in-insane? You--"
"No, listen to me." his voice grew soft, almost to a whisper when another sob shook my body. "I dont want to scare you anymore than you already are, but trust me when I say he would have killed you if he found you here."
I didn't try to make sense of what he said. I couldn't.
My mind was far to racked up to comprehend a single thought other than;
"I killed her."
The more my mind repeated this fact in my head, colder I grew until I was shaking uncontrollably.
My mother was right!
"We need to go." He says quietly.
I shake my head no.
"Hey. Look at me." he urges, forcing me to look away from her cold body and into his eyes. "Toby asked me to save you. I don't know your story or what relationship you have with him, but I'm not going to be the one who has to tell him you didn't make it. We have to leave if you are going to stand a chance out there."
I shake my head again and hold my shaking arms to my stomach.
"We can't drive out there! We can't walk--I can't walk to the nearest town and Tom--!"
"Will surly find us if we stay here. I will carry you if I must, but I won't fight you."
I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing.
I wipe the tears, the blood from my face and I sway at the sight of it on my fingertips.
Brian's grip tightens on my shoulder.
"I will protect you until you make it to safety, but you need to come with me."
Leave.
I force my eyes away from hand and back to his eyes when he says;
"Come with me."