Green. The colour held importance to them no one could ever imagine. Green was his favourite colour. Green was the bewitching colour of his eyes. She bet green was the colour of the monster inside of him.
Those beautifully evil emerald eyes turned into a glare at the woman next to him, but she wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on the moving atmosphere in front of her, she wanted to touch it. To feel the sensation of the trees and the chilly mid-summer air. She extended her fingers but the car window stopped her. Slowly, she stroked down the glass. She missed it.
Looking across once more. He reached over and gripped her thigh; squeezing smoothly until the point of pain. She held her expression tight. She wouldn't dream of showing him how weak she really was. She turned to him and gave him the bravest smile she could muster out of the pain and imprisonment. He didn't return the grin.
Zack, his name was Zack. At least, that's what he told her. Her name was Jade. She didn't know much about him, then again. He didn't know much about her. They didn't talk, but when the did. It always ended the same.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the rear view mirror. The bruises and wounds from their last encounter still hadn't healed. She knew the scars would never heal. Physical and mental. Her sapphire eyes now looked a ghostly grey as if all life had been sucked out of them. He still thought she was beautiful.
He pulled the car to a stop in his driveway. He got out, she didn't. She knew all too well the outcome of doing something without being told too. He slammed the door shut and rounded the car to the trunk. She watched him unload the groceries, even from inside the car she could see the tenseness in his back. She fiddled with her thumbs and waited.
He returned to the car, opening her door for her. Not to be mistaken as being polite. He strolled behind her walking into the house.
This neighbor hood wasn't a neighbor hood. No one left their houses except for the journeys to the sidewalk to collect the newspaper. Each house was evenly spread between a small mass of trees; giving everyone a little too much privacy.
She didn't know if everyone's houses were the same on the inside but they were identical on the outside. Pale grey stone walls with peeling paint and rotting wood. Nothing more, nothing less.
Walking inside, she took in the all too familiar blank walls. The dust-filled, creaky floorboards. The musty smell of blood. Throughout the entire house was nothing. Nothing but a few furniture pieces and dried in pools of bodily fluids. She hated it here.
The window in their bedroom made her miss the outside world even more. The slight breeze on the tree teasing her. Look how free we are. She sighed and stared at the nails on the window; trapping her forever. There was more than a dozen there and before she got here there was more. Trying to pick them out gained her sixteen hours in the bedroom closet. She didn't know how long she'd been here. In his house, in his bedroom, in his mind. She couldn't remember not being here. She didn't think she could miss people more than she did.
She'd been good today, she knew that. He let her come with him for the shopping. Of course, she waited in the locked car for forty five minutes. She learned to enjoy the little things. The tinted windows allowed her to watch as people walked past and they had no idea she was the missing girl from eighteen months ago.
No one had any idea.
The bedroom door opened. She sat up straight and put her hands in her lap, she waited for him. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He gawked at her, sitting across from her. He reached forward and as gently as he could, stroked down her cheek onto a purple bruise.
"I got you something today." He smiled at her.
When most guys buy a girl something, it's always flowers, chocolates or clothes. In this case, he held up a brand, spanking new bottle of painkillers.
It wasn't freedom, but it was something. She put her hand over his, "Thank you." Slowly, she leaned over and pressed her lips against his.
It was only supposed to last a second but he grabbed her and pulled her towards him. His lips and hands glided everywhere on her. Grimacing, she tried to get away from him. She was still in pain from the last time this happened.
His lips pressed against hers firmly, she could feel her lip split again. He moaned at the taste of her blood spilling into his mouth. Roughly, he pushed his tongue against the cut.
"No, Zack." She pushed him away. "I'm still sore from the other day."
He still held onto her, "Well, you can take a pill." He kissed a trail up her neck, he lightly nipped at the skin with his teeth. "Right?"
She pressed her eyes closed, "No." The word was out of her mouth before she could think.
She felt him tense.
He tossed her off the bed. She landed and thudded against the wall, her head knocked against it. Her vision blurred; before she could regain her sight - he was on her. Gripping her hair and smashing her forehead off the wall.
She smelt the blood before she felt it, it ran down her face and into her mouth. It's coppery taste made her choke and slur her screams.
"Stupid bitch!" He stood and crashed his booted foot into her stomach.
Once more, he pulled her by her hair and pushed her inside of the closet. "I try to do something nice and you just fuck it all back in my face!" He yelled before slamming the closet shut and placing a lock between the handles.
It was times like these when she wished she had just sucked his dick and been done with it.
When she woke, the blood was dried in and tacky. Her whole body was in pain, not just from the beating but sleeping in a cramped closet didn't do a whole lot for her either.
Her head was sore in ways you could never imagine and she did nothing but wish she had just taken a pill and let him use her to get himself off. It's not like he ever made an effort to get her off.
She heard movement from beyond the closed doors, footsteps coming towards her. The noise of a lad lock being opened and finally the doors. They swung open and light hit her. She whined and pressed her eyes together.
He stood there, looking unaffected by her current state. "Do you want to wash?"
She didn't look up and nodded sheepishly.
He pulled her up and walked her to the bathroom, she widened her eyes more at the dimmed lights. She looked down, a bath had been drawn.
She looked more closely at it, there was no steam coming off it. She went to poke a finger in to check when he pushed her.
It was freezing, coldness swept across her body and the cuts stung. "What the fu-"
He heaved himself forward and shoved her head underwater. She tried to hold her breath but couldn't help herself from trying to scream at him. She clawed at his arms and could feel his blood climb under her fingernails.
His face swirled in her vision, she gasped over and over again until she felt her lungs struggle and fill with water.
Abruptly, he let go and left the room.
When her head re-amerced, she coughed and heaved over the ledge. She clutched a towel against her face. Relaxing again, she sat back against the bath. The water was tinted pink.
She didn't go back to him straight away, it was always better to give him time to cool off. She grabbed the soap and did a good once over on her body, all the other blood was on her clothes. She rubbed her skin until it was red and raw.
She got out and changed out of her wet clothes, she walked to the kitchen in a towel.
He was sitting at the table, his hands balled up unto fists until his chuckles burned white. His jaw was locked tight and his back was tense with stress. A glass of water and the painkillers sat opposite him.
The kettle was on the cooker, steam floated into the air until, eventually disappearing. She watched the condensation gather on the kettle's metal surface, dripping slowly.
She crossed the room and settled against the counter. Rubbing her hand against the wood, she waited.
"Jade?" He sat there, staring off into some other universe. He didn't seem to like it here either. She felt like he was watching her, even if his eyes didn't move.
"Yes?" Against her back, she could feel the handle of the drawer press to her. He had it locked because it was full of knives.
"I'm sorry."
The kettle's steam ran through the air hastily, it didn't help the tension in the room.
"I know."
She wrapped her thumb around the handle behind her back, careful not to make a sound. She pulled lightly, the lock jammed and the metal inside clanked together.
He blinked.
He scrambled to his feet and swung the screaming, boiling kettle's water at her.
