You Are Mine

CHAPTER 45

~Yolanda's POV~

Thursday
Time: 9am

The autumn breeze spread goosebumps over my body. I didn't know my location nor the reason behind me running away.

Why am I running?

I halted to think then began sprinting again.

That's right I'm running away from something or to be frank someone.

Who am I running away from?
I looked back and saw the void darkness that seemed never ending.

I lost balance upon tripping over something, falling face first on the ground.

As a stood back on my feet, I instinctively looked ahead. Eyes dilated in shock and awe, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. It seemed quite odd that I was able to see inspite of the mere fact that everything was pitch black.

I wore a strapless, royal blue gown that hugged my curves perfectly before flaring exquisitely below. I traced my fingers over the material until a drop of something trinkled down my hand. Gazing at the drop, my breath hitched after realizing it was blood.

Where? Whose blood is this?

I looked into the mirror again and stared at my reflection in complete horror. Blood gushed out of the slit throat. As I tried to stop the profuse bleeding, I failed to notice the person that popped out of no way from behind me. Eyes glued on the figure that had a sinister smirk on his lips.

Brian held up a knife from which my blood trinkled down. He pointed the knife towards my reflection.

"You're mine...." he said menacingly before breaking into crazed laughter.

"Now wake up!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sweat drenched the shirt I wore, heart pounding intensely in my chest. I sighed in relief upon realizing it was another nightmare. I run into the bathroom and stared at myself to double check.

I'm not wearing a gown. Check
No slit. Check.
Phew... just a nightmare. It's just a nightmare. Breathe. Calm down.

Cold water soothed my tensed skin, as I splashed my face with water the fifth time. This is the fourth nightmare this week, the ninth nightmare for the past two weeks! What's more terrifying and infuriating is that it's the same thing, in every nightmare the same occurs.

Why? Is it a red flag? Or is my fear quickly overpowering my courage?

I plopped back in bed, gazing at the blank ceiling. Ever since my attack on Brian and the 'miserable escape', not much has happened. I woke up in bed and that's that. He sustains me with three meals a day in my bedroom. He doesn't talk but stares with a look I'm unable to decipher. Not a word has been exchanged between us.

It's uncomfortable but I'm content that he still feeds me. From the thriller movies I've watched, the victims aren't as lucky as me. They're usually locked up in a dark room, starved of food, treated like an animal and left to die in darkness and dread. I thought he'd do such a thing after the stunt I pulled off but it seems as if it never happened.

I'm half glad he hasn't retaliated nor scolded me for it but then again, Brian is unpredictable.

You never know what he's cooking in that mind of his. Whatever he is plotting, I know it ain't good.

It seems to me that he's away most of the time and I wonder where? Doesn't anyone identify him? Or does he disguise himself? Most probably. Such pondering called slumber to return again as I drifted into peaceful sleep.