Maxxie
I wake up wondering what the hell happened that got me here. It didn't take long for the pain near my stomach to resurface and strip me of all my concentration. I look down for the wound. I see my body covered in tight, binding rope. My shirt is off and my injury is bandaged. I'm sitting on a chair and my hands are tied uncomfortably behind my back. I look around the room. I can tell I'm in a used apartment very different from my own because the chair is placed next to a disheveled bed and the layout is unfamiliar. The lights are on but the apartment is totally quiet. Not even a pin drop of noise. Where in the world am I?
My mouth is filled with somebody's sock and covered with duck tape. Whoever did this to me is fucking disgusting, that's for sure. I look out the window and see that the sun is slowly rising, filling the sky with its red, blazing aura. It was around dawn now.
Suddenly I hear a noise coming from outside the apartment. The sound of clanking metal. Someone was unlocking the door. This was it. This was the person who brought me here. I try to remember last night's events but it's all too blurry. I have no idea who hurt me. No idea why I'm here. All I can do is wait for the person who tied me here to open the door. Then turn the corner and…
Oh fuck!
"Hello, Maxxie. I see you're awake now," Sketch says.
I try my best to shout out all of my fury but my voice is too muffled. Sketch walks up to me and says, "Oh, let me fix that for you." She rips off the tape, leaving a huge, painful mark on my face no-doubt. I spit out the sock and discover, to my absolute worst horror, that it was my own. The bloody bitch took off my own sock and stuck it in my fucking mouth! That's it.
"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! I'VE BEEN KIDNAPPED BY A PSYCHO BITCH!" I can't possibly scream any louder. The stab wound begins to ache and burn once again as I withdraw for breath.
"I'm afraid nobody else is here, Maxxie. This place is practically dead these days."
"What about the owner? Or the janitors or-"
"All gone."
"What did you do to them?" I say, fearing the worst possible scenario. Sketch did attack me with a knife.
"Honestly, Maxxie, stop worrying about them. They can't bother us now. That's all that matters."
Ignoring her, I try and wiggle my hands free from the ropes. It was no use. I have so many questions floating through my head but the fear is getting to me. I can't even speak.
"Stop struggling," Sketch says, putting her hands on my shoulders. All I want to do is pry them off and use them to bash her head. "Why can't you just accept my love?"
"Maybe it's because you're a freaking psycho! Maybe it's because you stabbed me and tied me to this chair! Or maybe, just maybe…it because you're a freaking girl!" I bring my face closer to hers so she can see the serious amounts of rage I'm holding toward her. This isn't the first time Sketch has gone after me but this is the first time she's gone this far. She's totally lost it. "Why can't you just accept that I don't love you!?"
"Well isn't that rich! You fall in love with your straight best friend and even kiss him but I'm the psycho who should accept that I'll never be loved!?"
I shot up straight in my seat, taken aback by Sketch's observation. Observation! She's been fucking stalking me for how long!? Clearly a while since she knows such intimate details. She even knows about…the kiss. How is that possible? My face crinkles up in terror once more and Sketch clearly notices.
"That's what I thought," she says, grinning over her apparent victory. I couldn't think of anything to say. I couldn't think anything at all really. Anything except for where Anwar. I wonder if he's even noticed that I'm gone. Or if he even cares. Probably not. Nobody cares about the missing fag in the real world. James didn't care. Anwar doesn't care. The only one who "cares" is this insane girl who stabbed and kidnapped me. I'm so defeated at this point that I barely notice Sketch talking.
"Don't get too comfortable, Maxxie. Tonight, we're leaving London for good. Together."
Anwar
I'm outside of the apartment building. I had to be moved out and taken to the interrogation room once the police arrived. The area was a crime scene after all. They asked me loads of questions. How did I know Maxxie? Why were we living together? When did I last see him? Some of the questions were annoying to answer (especially the ones that were repeated) but I answered them all to the best of my ability. The detective who asked me all these questions I learned was named Jeremy Archer. After talking to Detective Archer, I was allowed to go free. I headed straight back to the apartment and now I'm staring at our room's window, unsure of what to do anymore. Unsure of what to think. Of how I was gonna get through this.
During the course of the interrogation, Detective Archer asked me if I knew anybody who could have done this to Maxxie. I told them about the time Maxxie had a stalker back where we used to live but I told them it was probably unlikely for it to be her. She had a sick mother to take care of back in Bristol and wouldn't just abandon her. They decided to look into it anyway and the detective gave me his number and asked for mine so we could keep in touch. I promised to call if I needed to but I doubt I ever will.
I call up my co-worker, Andy, to ask if I could crash at his place for the night. When he says yes, I walk lazily to his house which isn't too far from the apartment. But my mind isn't with me. I'm stuck on auto-pilot because I can't deal with the idea that Maxxie could be out there…bleeding…scared…alone. And that was the worst part of it. Oh Allah…what would anyone want with my Maxxie!?
Maxxie
"How do you expect me to just go along with all of this?" I say. Sketch gives me a matter of fact stare, as if I had just asked the most obvious question in the world. Bitch.
"You really don't have much of a choice. Honestly, did you think I came here without some kind of a plan?"
"No doubt it's a really stupid one. What are you going to do? Dress up as Anwar and hope I'll fall in love with you that way?" I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she tried that. When she was dating Anwar back in Bristol, she had him dress up exactly like me to make up for the fact that I rejected her. I knew I should have called the cops on her. Oh bloody hell…I couldn't though. Her mom was sick and needed her. Actually, that was a good point…
"Who's watching over your mom right now anyway?"
Sketch put on a grim face. "I'm afraid nobody is. She's dead."
Wow. I actually feel bad. Not as much for Sketch as for the mom, of course. The poor woman was so sick and bed-ridden that she had no chance of controlling her daughter's psycho behavior. No husband to fill the role for her either. My sympathy, however, didn't stop me from wanting to kick the crap out of her daughter though.
Sketch quickly composed herself again. "Don't change the subject. We were talking about how you have no other choice but to come with me."
"Just because your mom died, doesn't mean I pity you enough to love you-"
"Oh lord no, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about how you probably don't want Anwar to get hurt…"
I immediately shut up. It was bullocks. It had to be. Total bullshit! She couldn't possibly-
"Did you think I was working alone? I'm not. There's no way I'm leaving your side until ten o'clock tonight, Maxxie, but that doesn't mean I still can't have it done."
"Have what done? Who the fuck would work with you!? Why the fuck-"
Sketch put a patronizing index finger to my lips to keep me quiet. She grinned and shhhh'ed me like a freaking child. God, I needed a bat or something. She stared into my eyes and whispered to me as if I would appreciate her quiet voice.
"There are many things you don't know about me, Maxxie-deary. I promise to let you know all about me after our wedding tomorrow. And I keep all of my promises. Can you keep your promise, Maxxie?"
"What promise?"
"That you will marry me and be my wife forever. You will never run away from me. You will never hurt me. And you will never send me away. Do all of that…and I will let Anwar live."
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