Taken by fate

Chapter 20

Painstakingly bored.
Throwing a water bottle into the air, plastic twirling as the water tumbled around inside. Bubbles floating against the sides catching on the grooves.
I would say that I needed to use the restroom. Get away from you, make sure you don't follow me inside, then I would bust out the front door. That's how I was getting away.
Hopefully.
Drinking some water, droplets running down my chin. Anxious to get this over with.
Soon.
Then I'll be home.
Plan in place, my body started to relax the more I went over the details. Knowing that everything had to be just right, I couldn't show any signs of being suspicious. Had to find a way to distract you. 
Knob turning.
"Fires burning, everything's already outside. Ready?"
Talking as you came halfway down the stairs excitement in your tone, eyes sparkling as they met mine, sending a rush of joy throughout me as I smiled back.
Was that real joy or just anticipation for what was to come?
"Of course!"
Hoping off the bed, skipping over to your outstretched hand taking hold as we walked back upstairs together.
Weird how natural this felt, the fact that I didn't actively flinch at your touch anymore.
"So how was your day?" Needing the distraction from my thoughts but also because I was curious. You got to go out in the world while I was stuck here, what exactly did you do?
"It was good, better now that I'm here with you." Giving my hand a squeeze as you opened the back door. Already dark. Of course it was. Missing the feeling of the sun shining on my skin.
Fire burning bright a few feet away, orange and red and yellow. The pit was just a small circular thing, one that looked like it was used for travel. It sat on the ground next to a blanket that was all spread out. A pack of marshmallows, hershey chocolate bars and graham crackers with some water sat lined up on the edge.
Almost like when I was younger.
"I like seeing you smile."
This time I pulled you towards the blanket. Settling down, getting comfy as you sat next to me. Ripping the bag of marshmallows open stabbing one through with a stick. Long and sanded down, like the furniture inside.
"You build things."
"I do." Holding your marshmallow directly in the middle of the fire, white completely gone as the sugar burned, blackening the outer edges.
"Did you build all the furniture inside?"
"I did." Smile lighting up your face looking proud. "What's the point of buying something when you can make it yourself? Besides, building something from scratch gives it more purpose and more meaning."
That's what my mom said about painting.
'Every stroke you make gives the canvas more of a story, gives the piece life.'
Throat tight. I missed my mom so much and my dad and Amara and my room.
"So is that what you do for work? Build stuff."
"For the most part I do."
"Most part?"
Bringing your marshmallow to your mouth blowing out the flame, twisting the black edges off revealing a gooey white center. Plopping the whole thing in your mouth.
"Depending on what needs to be done, sometimes I do yard work, or fix the shingles on roofs, or replace plumbing pipes. Whatever needs to be done I can do it."
"So you're a handyman, what company do you work for?"
All of a sudden there was deep hearty laughter filling the air, looking over seeing your entire body convulse, shoulders bouncing, almost leaned back to the ground.
"I work for myself." Sitting back up resting your arm around your unturned knee while the other leg laid flat on the blanket.
"If you don't have a workplace then how do you get the jobs?"
"Word gets out. Sometimes people recommend me to their friends. Or I just ask around. There's always something that needs to be fixed, done, or built."
So people knew you. Allowed you into their homes.
Not having a paper job meant that you had no boss and no time schedule to keep. Which also meant that I would never know when or how long you would be gone. Though if my plan worked I wouldn't have to worry about that.
Twisting my marshmallow above the flames slowly, cooking it fully through. Sure this way took forever but the final result was definitely worth it and I liked watching the flames dance.
Firewood crackling, filling the air with smoke and the sweet smell of sugar. Shadows appeared from the light the fire cast, moving as the flames did. Little dots of ash floating through the air like fireflies, as the flames ever changed. Giving off the heat that warmed my skin for the cool wind.
"Living on the streets people built fires to keep them warm through the nights." Talking straight into the fire. "A homeless veteran was actually the one who taught me how to make a good fire. How to set the kindling, getting the stick in the right angle adding enough pressure while twisting downwards to get the right amount of force. A long process, but I like that, watching the man make fire with his own hands.
Took me all night but when I finally did it myself. I couldn't believe it.
The man patted me on the back, told me 'good job, kid.' A lesson that I kept close."
"Did he become like your mentor? Giving you lessons about how to survive." Taking a bite out of the s'more I just stacked together, melted chocolate mixing with the vanilla graham cracker and the sugar gooey goodness of the marshmallow.
"Nope, after that night I never saw him again. On the streets people come and go without warning."
Just like what I was about to do.
"Hey, I need to use the restroom." Getting up wiping the sticky goop off my hands.
"Alright I was bout to head in to grab another blanket."
"NO." Crap don't be obvious. "I'll just grab one on my way out." Heart beating out of my chest forcing my voice to stay calm. "Just stay here, I'll be right back." Ears ringing as the blood rushed through my veins. "Ok?"
"Ok." Leaning over to grab another marshmallow piercing it through with the stick.
"I'll be back in a sec."
Turning away from you, keeping my walk slow as I came up to the door. Walking through, shutting it behind me, twisting the deadbolt onto place before I rushed to the front door.
Turning the locks, hands shaking, thinking that you were going to try and come in and realize the door was locked and come after me.
This was it. I was going to get out, be free. I was going home.
Turning the knob thankful that it twisted with ease but as I tried to pull the door open it didn't move. Confused, trying again, shaking the door frantically but it wouldn't budge. Checking over the locks again making sure they were all undone.
"Come on."
Pulling harder.
"Why aren't you opening? Please just open!"
Taking a step back, surveying the outline not seeing a single reason for the door not to be opening but knowing that there had to be something.
Time was running out. You would be wondering where I was. Again I tried, begging silently to myself for the door to budge, yanking as hard as I could, doing nothing.
Dammit!
Frustrated, clinking the locks back into place, running down the hall.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Were you on your way in right now, how long have I been?
Throwing open the closet door, grabbing a hold of the bottom blanket on top of the shelf tugging it free, causing the rest of the sheets to tumble to the floor.
"Whatever."
Blanket secured in my grip shutting the door with my foot fumbling with the size since the sheet had unraveled, almost tripping over the fabric as I walked back down the hall.
Looking over my shoulder at the front door not understanding why it hadn't opened, wishing that I had more time to try again. There had to be something I was missing. Taking in a deep breath trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall pulling open the back door heading back over to where you were still sitting on the ground.
A smile on your face as I sat down.
Did you know what I was trying to do? Were you smiling because you knew that I wouldn't be able to get out or because I had come back to you?
   "Everything ok?"
NO!
"Just had a little trouble getting the blanket down. I made a bit of a mess. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'll clean it up later. For right now." Pausing as you took the blanket from my arms wrapping it around my body. "Let's just enjoy the stars. Maybe you could tell me a little bit more about this skyspoon of yours."
There it was again, your act of being so sweet and caring. Making me feel special.
Looking up at the night sky.
Thinking over whether I should actually tell you the truth or if I wanted to keep the story to myself a little longer.
In a way you kinda reminded me of Orion, the constellation that represented a great hunter. Said to be the most handsome of all men and a master fighter as well. One of the stories tells of how he fell for the seven sisters and how their father placed them into the sky to protect them from him. Yet Orion, being as stubborn as he was, followed them up there. A constant chase, the sisters never being able to get away, never being able to rest.
Trapped like I was.
Why hadn't the door opened?
You must have rigged it somehow. Another lock hidden along the frame.
The light grew dimmer as the fire shrunk down, darkness taking over.
Maybe I could trap you in the basement, I knew that I could open the back door then all I would need to do is to find a way over the fence.
Seeing your chest rise and fall with each one of your breaths, steady and strong as your hand grazed my arm.
If there was a fence then there had to be a gate. Right?
Coldness swooped in as soon as I pushed the blanket aside.
"Where are you going?"
"Just need to stretch my legs." How can I survey the fence without being noticeable? Walking a couple of feet surveying the posts, stopping to fully stretch out my body twisting to the side. If there was a gate then they were usually next to the house, on the side.
Knowing that I had to get over there close enough to pick out a hinge or handle. Head held high looking at the stars that were visible as I began to walk again. Hoping that you wouldn't figure out what I was doing.
Looking out trying to pick out a difference in the wood, something that would tell me where the opening was. Too dark, I had to get closer.
Feeling your eyes on me. Always watching.
Closer to the house and still nothing, was there even a gate at all or was this just a waste.
Still I had to try.
There was no way I could climb over, nothing to put my foot onto and now that I was next to the fence I knew that I couldn't reach the top even if I jumped. Guessing that it was about ten feet tall.
Even if I did find the gate would it be locked? If it wasn't, how would I distract you for long enough to get away. If I found it now then I would know where it was later, maybe even if it was locked I could use the hinge as leverage to get over.
Hardly noticing the fact that I was shivering too focused on the task at hand.
Glancing over my shoulder seeing that you were tending to the fire, hands so close to the flames I thought that you were going to burn yourself. Hunched over like that you didn't look so big or daunting.
Fabric stretched tight against your back, even from here I could see the darker shadows running at random down your spine. Anyone else looking might have just guessed that the fabric was bunched but I knew the truth.
How you have known real pain and loss, that you never had a parent that truly cared for you. A life built on stories that your mother told you when she was alive. Stories that led you to the decision to kidnap me.
You've never hurt me not once, physically anyways.
All I wanted was to get back to my family, back to my life.
All you wanted was someone to love you as they loved me.
I could understand that, but this was not the way.
Searching faster, where was the latch.
Thoughts racing through my head telling me there was no point. This wasn't going to be that easy. Finding the gate would be pointless because that door wouldn't open either. I was never going to get out of here.
Was that really that bad?
Of course it was!
What was I thinking!?
"Why don't you come back by the fire."
Jumping like a terrified cat into the air as I backed away from your hand. Not even realizing that you were standing there.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be Sarah."
Head down, I brushed past you back to the fire. Warmth from the flames heating the skin on my legs, arms wrapped tightly around my chest just now realizing how cold I actually was.
"You're shivering." Fluffing the blanket out before wrapping it around my shoulders.
Taking a couple steps away from you, the blanket dropping back onto the dirt and grass causing you to pause, looking confused.
"I'm just going to go inside, I'm kind of tired, it's been a long day."
"If you want I can make you my special hot chocolate. It'll warm you right up."
"That's fine, really." How could I hate you if you kept being so nice. "I'm just going to go to bed."
Turning away from you defeated from all the failed attempts, just wanting to get away.
Why was this so hard, everything working against me. Fighting to keep me here.
Why didn't the door open!?
I've come so far and yet I wasn't any closer to escaping. Just as trapped as I was with the collar strapped to my neck.
"Sarah."
Fingers wrapping gently around my upper right arm, your touch like flames across my skin that was as cold as ice. Turning me around to face you, so close. Close enough to see the spot at the side of your neck pulsing. Before I could even pull away you had your arms around my back pulling me in.
A huff of breath, startled from the action. Standing there with my arms hung down, as my face pressed into your chest unsure of what to do.
Body heating up, thoughts quieting down.
Wrapping my arms around your back, embracing the hug.
Melting against you as you leaned your head on top of mine, keeping firm pressure on my back.
Realizing then how much I missed hugs. Closing my eyes, I could almost fool myself into thinking that I was hugging my dad. Your scent filled my nose, smudging the illusion.
"Will I ever see my parents again?"
Silence. Knowing that you heard my question, your grip loosened just a smidge feeling your breath catch.
Letting my arms drop away though you didn't let go.
Slipping my arms between our chests pushing you off, stepping away as I looked into your eyes, mouth shut tight in a thin line.
An answer with no words.
Complete and utter agony washing throughout my limbs wanting nothing more but to kick and scream and lash out at you.
Keeping my composer as I backed away, not losing eye contact with you until I turned to walk into the house.
The door to the basement was still open but I didn't want to go back down there, not yet. The front door was useless.
Everything was useless.
This was my prison.
You came in a moment later finding me on the couch. The second you saw me your whole body froze.
Regaining yourself heading to the kitchen.
Pots and pans clinking around.
Soon enough there was a steaming mug in front of my face reaching up letting the heat warm my fingers. You hadn't said anything and neither did I, letting the silence stretch on.
The hot chocolate was good.
Not being able to figure out what made the flavor so rich and creamy, so unlike the regular powered hot chocolate that you just added boiling water to.
Finishing half the mug, drinking until the liquid went cold. Resting the mug on the table sitting back into the couch.
Yawning hard now that I was warmed from the inside out, laying my head down on the arm rest closing my eyes.