I Think About You Ronnie Anne

8

       I sit just outside the door. Suddenly a sharp scream cuts through the wall which means that she's awake. I go inside and lock the door behind me. It's kind of silly that I lock an immobilized person in a room (she's still completely tied up) but it's just a precaution. I can tell she's scared and equally confused. Her cute hoodie will swell up with sweat if she keeps worrying! "Ronnie Anne, it's okay. You're safe." Through her blindfold, she probably can't see who I am, which explains her next few questions. "Who are you?! Where am I?!" I take careful steps towards her, trying not to make her any more apprehensive. I need her to be calm because first impressions are everything. (I guess now it's a second or third impression). "It's Lincoln. I could lie and say you're in a giant mansion up north, but it would be disrespectful to lie to you. You're in my basement." She tried to stand, but the restraining ropes around her legs didn't let her go very far before she fell back down. "Oh my god... PLEASE! SOMEONE!" she screams. "Ronnie, nobody can hear you. It's just us. We're pretty far down. You weren't awake for it, but we went down a lot of stairs. We're underground, as all living things are after death. Shouldn't that comfort you?"

       "Comfort me? Why the hell would that comfort me you CREEP?! GET ME OUT!" I grab her by both shoulders and it causes her to jolt. I can feel her body tremble. She really is afraid of me, and it's not anxiety, it's true raw fear. That's not at all how I want her to feel. "Ronnie Anne, really, I'm not gonna hurt you." She is fast to interrupt me and interject with questions. "Then why did you blind me? Oh god..." Her words trailed off into a whimper. She continued speaking silently to herself, mouthing sentences like "I'm gonna die" and "Please God help me." Her lips are twitching too. It's happened. For the first time, I can say I have the advantage I've always desired. She's no longer the predator and I'm no longer the prey. A complete role reversal, this is. I'm now the one with the sharp fangs and the claws of a bear. "Are you hungry?" She responds unexpectedly, by crying in a reserved way, like how I'd imagine a mouse would cry. "What is wrong with you... you're a monster." That's a funny one. I was a freak, I was a creep, and now I'm a monster? That just doesn't seem right. It does feel appropriate though for her, an angel, evaluating my sins to come to a final judgment. But a monster? Freaks are weird. Creeps are weird. Monsters... are evil.

       Now I'm indignant. I control my emotions, but they slip off my tongue a little when I speak again. "I think you are hungry, Ronnie. I'll go get your supper." I march up the stairs and a few of them creak underneath my weight. After I return, I hold a dog bowl in my hand, which I place on the hard cold floor and slide it over within her reach. She feels around like a man searching for the glasses he'd dropped, and that blind mouse finds the bowl with little excitement. "What is this?" she asks. "A dog bowl?" I laugh. I can't explain it to you, but somehow the comedic timing was on point there. She makes me laugh even when she doesn't try. She mushes her hands around in the food like she's mixing it. "Is this... meat?" she asks. "It's ground beef, but I don't know how to cook, so it's pretty rare." She recoils like the bowl tried to bite her. "UCK! I can't eat that!" Her voice is getting whinier. It draws out with a cry. "If you want, I can go get a box of crackers for you. Mom hasn't bought groceries yet." She does it again, whimpering and mouthing her depressing phrases. "I'm gonna die here. Why God? Why me?" I'm already irritated that she called me a monster, and that bitterness only grows more annoyed by her little crying fits. Rage gets the best of me, and I'm ashamed of it, but I screamed at her. "SHUT UP!" As soon as I shout it, I regret that I let emotion get the best of me. I shouldn't be acting like that, especially not in front of her. "Sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that."

       My shout made her crawl into the corner, shielding herself with her arms. Her small cries become big, stifled sobs. This further proves to me that I went too far. "I'm... sorry. I'll go now." I shut the door, and as I go up the steps, I can hear one loud and desperate shriek. Her last and most passionate attempt to reach someone's ear. No one answered back, and she already knew that would be the outcome. Her hope has died out, and she's put all her energy into that last plea for help. Her terrified body is too tired to handle the stress, and she slumps forward, asleep. It makes me cry. It all is just now starting to overwhelm me. "Why did I do that?" I ask myself. "Why did I kidnap her? I'm such an idiot. She's right. I really am a monster." I sit down in the kitchen and lay my head on the table. My sister Lynn came in and noticed my sorrow. "What's wrong, Lincoln?" I tell her, "I hurt somebody close to me." She asked if I hurt them physically or emotionally. I told her that I was mean to them. She sits down at the table, giving me a very attentive look. "Well, if they really are your friend, Lincoln, then I'm sure they'll forgive you. If you say you're sorry, I'm sure it'll work out." With that surprisingly simple yet profound advice, she told me she had to run to football practice, pat me on the back, and went off. I don't know if Ronnie Anne will forgive me, but Lynn was right about one thing. It will work out.