Sad Eyes

Every day here you come walking
I hold my tongue, I don't do much talking
You say you're happy and you're doin' fine
Well go ahead, baby, I got plenty of time

Because sad eyes never lie
Because sad eyes never lie

Prologue

My head is hurting once again. I don't know how many times he hit me yesterday, but it feels like thousands. I am not afraid that he'll come back today. He usually leaves me alone after his anger issues so he doesn't have to see me that ugly, with swollen lips and covered in blood. You could say this is his only weakness.

He hates blood. And he hates me. I see it everytime I look into his green eyes. He hates me for hating him. But what could he be expecting from a girl he kidnapped and held hostage for over three years. Did he think I would love him for abusing me? I don't think so. Maybe he is angry because I still call Tommy's name in my sleep. I am sure this makes him raging. And I don't understand it. Not that he's raged, but that I still scream for Tommy. Of course, at the beginning I was hoping for him to rescue me, he has been the last person to see me. But he didn't. And I became Joe's personal whore.

It's strange how time goes by. I think I am twenty right now, cause it was short after my 17th birthday when I was kidnapped. I still now what I was doing that day. I was singing White Lines to Tommy and he told me to show my feelings.

And I did. The kiss he gave me for goodbye was one of the best I ever got – it wasn't the best cause of the one at my 16th Birthday.

I was walking home – or better flying on cloud nine – singing to myself when the car stopped next to me. The man called out of the window: "Hey girl, could you show me the way to main station?"

And stupid, naïve Jude approached and started talking. But I never finished.

I am hungry and thirsty. He hasn't been here for three days now. That is really strange; normally he can't live without it. He needs me every almost two days. He's lucky I am healing so fast. My bruises are already purple and my lip's only a little swollen. I sit up on my bed and look through the dark room. The only light's coming from the moon outside, which is full tonight. It's snowing and the path in front of my window is all white. It would look beautiful to me if fear wasn't creeping through my veins. What the hell is going on? Why isn't Joe coming?

Of course I don't want him to come, but I want food. I'm starving. The door opens and for the first time I am not scared. I will get something to eat! I look up at the man who's supposed to be Joe. But it isn't him!