Disclaimer: One again I own nothing except for the underlining plot of this
story. God that sucks. Enjoy!
I brought the black bag over to the couch with me. I withdrew my cd player, putting in Queen of the Damned and turning the volume up, I sank into the dark lyrics and headbanging music. The base vibrated in my being, the angry, desperate voices echoing in my limbs. I felt like dancing, but I was surrounded by a room of men. So instead of getting up and shaking it, I started to walk from one end of the room to the other. Back and forth, back and forth. Head nodding to the pulsating rhythms.
Someone grabbed my wrist. I turned around to see Patrick saying something. I pressed the pause button.
"You rang?" I asked.
"I can hear that bloody thing across the room!"
"And...?" I asked, using my teenage girl annoying powers.
"It's too fucking loud!" He was starting to get irritated.
I yanked my wrist out of his grasp. "Deal with it!" I sneered, throwing his earlier words back in his face.
I knew then that I had overstepped the line. His expression was that of cold fury. He took a menacing step forward...
"Boss, we got trouble with the lady. You better come here." B said.
Saved by the loudmouth. I would have to kiss him for that.
Patrick gave me one more glowering look before he spun around and strode over to the computers. "What the hell...!" He exclaimed, picking up the phone and hitting the speed dial button.
I turned the music down and headed over to the table where B sat watching the screens. Patrick had gone back to his pacing, trying to walk off his anger.
"I thought Nathan had explained the rules quite clearly." Came his chilling voice.
Patrick was talking to my mother. I could see her on the screen. She was sitting up in bed, holding the phone tightly in her hand. I slipped back the headphones, and listened intently.
"Put the cell phone back." Patrick said with an air of command.
I saw my mother slowly move the cell phone out from under the covers and put it back on the bedside table next to her.
"That's better. Think of the benefits, Maggie," he said softly, "This experience will bring you and your family much closer than a ski trip....or the occasional sponge bath."
"You sick son of a bitch!" My mother growled, "You touch one hair on my baby's head and I'll..."
"You'll do what?! You were about to say something personal...I think?" Patrick purred.
Mother gulped back whatever shad had been about to say, "No."
"That's a good girl."
Patrick stopped pacing and came over to the table. He leaned over B, looking at the screens. "The remote is to your left. Pick it up." He ordered.
Mother didn't move.
"Pick it up!" He demanded. I winced at his tone of voice.
She picked it up.
"Turn it on." He said coldly.
Shaking slightly, she pressed the power button. The TV came to life.
"Try HBO." Patrick suggested.
Mother changed the channel. Gunfire sounded from the TV. War Movie.
"No," Patrick sighed, "I've seen this before. A bit too violent. You'd be better off with a nice family drama." He advised.
Mother hung up and with a cry threw the phone from her.
Patrick hung up as well, looking very pleased, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Why did you do that?" I no more than growled.
"What?" He asked vaguely, adjusting his watch.
"You..you...you like it! You enjoy watching people suffer! It turns you on!!!!" I shouted incredulously, "But why us?! We have done nothing to you!!! WHY?!"
"Like you said, I enjoy it. Here's a lesson for you Little One and the sooner you learn it the better. The World is not a fairytale land. The wicked witch wins and Princes never do come to wake up the sleeping maidens. People get hurt.....people die," He towered over me, looking down into my face, but his gaze wasn't cold but more indifferent, as if he were merely stating a fact, "And more often than not goodness fails while evil goes on to destroy again. This is the real world, Jessie."
I was horrified with what he had said.
"You believe that?" I asked.
"There is nothing to believe when it's a fact of the world."
I don't know why this angered me but it did and I found myself biting out a reply, "Then I pity you." I spat coldly.
"You....what?" He seemed insulted by this.
"I pity you." I repeated.
"Don't. I'm loving every minute of it. Every second of your fear, every second of your doubt. I love it." He breathed down into my face.
He must have seen me shake in my anger because he cocked his head a little and asked softly, "What now, Jessie? You want to hurt me, don't you?" He smiled, "Go on, Jessie, let the anger out. You want to kill me, don't you? Come on then...."
I stood ridgedly, shaking from my fury building up inside my chest like a scream. I wanted to scratch out those blue eyes of his. His smile widened as though he knew what I was thinking. I suddenly understood what he was doing. He wanted me to lose it. But why? Because he is a sadistic son of a bitch, that's why.
I shook my head, "Not today, Mr. Koster, not today."
I then put my head phones back on, turned up the volume once again, and spun on my heel and walked away from him. I silently exhalted at the cross and sour look on his face as he walked to the kitchen to get a beer.
I brought the black bag over to the couch with me. I withdrew my cd player, putting in Queen of the Damned and turning the volume up, I sank into the dark lyrics and headbanging music. The base vibrated in my being, the angry, desperate voices echoing in my limbs. I felt like dancing, but I was surrounded by a room of men. So instead of getting up and shaking it, I started to walk from one end of the room to the other. Back and forth, back and forth. Head nodding to the pulsating rhythms.
Someone grabbed my wrist. I turned around to see Patrick saying something. I pressed the pause button.
"You rang?" I asked.
"I can hear that bloody thing across the room!"
"And...?" I asked, using my teenage girl annoying powers.
"It's too fucking loud!" He was starting to get irritated.
I yanked my wrist out of his grasp. "Deal with it!" I sneered, throwing his earlier words back in his face.
I knew then that I had overstepped the line. His expression was that of cold fury. He took a menacing step forward...
"Boss, we got trouble with the lady. You better come here." B said.
Saved by the loudmouth. I would have to kiss him for that.
Patrick gave me one more glowering look before he spun around and strode over to the computers. "What the hell...!" He exclaimed, picking up the phone and hitting the speed dial button.
I turned the music down and headed over to the table where B sat watching the screens. Patrick had gone back to his pacing, trying to walk off his anger.
"I thought Nathan had explained the rules quite clearly." Came his chilling voice.
Patrick was talking to my mother. I could see her on the screen. She was sitting up in bed, holding the phone tightly in her hand. I slipped back the headphones, and listened intently.
"Put the cell phone back." Patrick said with an air of command.
I saw my mother slowly move the cell phone out from under the covers and put it back on the bedside table next to her.
"That's better. Think of the benefits, Maggie," he said softly, "This experience will bring you and your family much closer than a ski trip....or the occasional sponge bath."
"You sick son of a bitch!" My mother growled, "You touch one hair on my baby's head and I'll..."
"You'll do what?! You were about to say something personal...I think?" Patrick purred.
Mother gulped back whatever shad had been about to say, "No."
"That's a good girl."
Patrick stopped pacing and came over to the table. He leaned over B, looking at the screens. "The remote is to your left. Pick it up." He ordered.
Mother didn't move.
"Pick it up!" He demanded. I winced at his tone of voice.
She picked it up.
"Turn it on." He said coldly.
Shaking slightly, she pressed the power button. The TV came to life.
"Try HBO." Patrick suggested.
Mother changed the channel. Gunfire sounded from the TV. War Movie.
"No," Patrick sighed, "I've seen this before. A bit too violent. You'd be better off with a nice family drama." He advised.
Mother hung up and with a cry threw the phone from her.
Patrick hung up as well, looking very pleased, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Why did you do that?" I no more than growled.
"What?" He asked vaguely, adjusting his watch.
"You..you...you like it! You enjoy watching people suffer! It turns you on!!!!" I shouted incredulously, "But why us?! We have done nothing to you!!! WHY?!"
"Like you said, I enjoy it. Here's a lesson for you Little One and the sooner you learn it the better. The World is not a fairytale land. The wicked witch wins and Princes never do come to wake up the sleeping maidens. People get hurt.....people die," He towered over me, looking down into my face, but his gaze wasn't cold but more indifferent, as if he were merely stating a fact, "And more often than not goodness fails while evil goes on to destroy again. This is the real world, Jessie."
I was horrified with what he had said.
"You believe that?" I asked.
"There is nothing to believe when it's a fact of the world."
I don't know why this angered me but it did and I found myself biting out a reply, "Then I pity you." I spat coldly.
"You....what?" He seemed insulted by this.
"I pity you." I repeated.
"Don't. I'm loving every minute of it. Every second of your fear, every second of your doubt. I love it." He breathed down into my face.
He must have seen me shake in my anger because he cocked his head a little and asked softly, "What now, Jessie? You want to hurt me, don't you?" He smiled, "Go on, Jessie, let the anger out. You want to kill me, don't you? Come on then...."
I stood ridgedly, shaking from my fury building up inside my chest like a scream. I wanted to scratch out those blue eyes of his. His smile widened as though he knew what I was thinking. I suddenly understood what he was doing. He wanted me to lose it. But why? Because he is a sadistic son of a bitch, that's why.
I shook my head, "Not today, Mr. Koster, not today."
I then put my head phones back on, turned up the volume once again, and spun on my heel and walked away from him. I silently exhalted at the cross and sour look on his face as he walked to the kitchen to get a beer.