The Escape

In the middle of the table, in a dark apartment, is a single slice of chocolate cake. Next to the cake are a fork and a large knife. It sits tauntingly under the overhead light as I struggle to unlace my hands from uncomfortable restraints. I twist, turn and bite at the thick duct tape over my mouth until I hear the faint sound of footsteps coming from the next room.

"Carley, honey, can I get you anything while I'm up?" Walters's voice is curiously normal and soft as he speaks to me.

I try to scream through the tape over my mouth. I'm not directing my muffled voice to Walter but to anyone- anyone near enough to hear my struggles.

He joins me across the table with a blank, evil stare, "You see, that's why I insisted on the tape."

His cold references to my abduction give me chills.

Studying his face doesn't give away his intentions. Instead of explaining, he twirls the fork in one hand, laces the knife in his other, and leans up in his seat. Walter carefully craves off a small bite and neatly scoops the cake into his mouth. He gracefully wipes his mouth with a tiny cloth napkin, although he's far too clean to have left any crumbs in the first place.

I am careful not to struggle in front of him. I'm doing my best to maintain composure, although I can feel tear marks running down my cheeks. My entire frame is shaking, and I wonder if he knows how upset I am or if he's too inattentive to process the utter discomfort.

Who would have known we would cross paths again? After the breakup, I thought my ex would be gone for good. I thought I could move on with my life, and hopefully, he would move on with his. But Walter was always different. That's what scared me. Even when we were together, I noticed red flags. It was eventually enough to end things in a dangerous breakdown that I thought was finished.

He stops eating to slide the plate towards me with an unbalanced smirk, "Don't you want some?" he stands up and approaches me from behind to tuck a piece of my loose hair behind my ear. He continues, "You look sad. I didn't think seeing me again would make you so sad."

My heart is pounding. I feel Walter's hands on my shoulders before he pulls the tape off of my mouth quickly like a waxing strip. You are never prepared for a situation like this. There is no amount of awareness you can have to predict such madness.

My entire being is nervous and clammy as I speak, "Walter, what am I doing here?"

"Fixing things," He answers immediately as he takes his seat across from me once more.

A shadow is cast on his face from the light above makes the darkness under his eyes eerie. Walter is a handsome man, tall and able; it's why I fell in love with him in the first place. It wasn't until I got to know him that I stopped seeing that statuesque jaw-line. Eventually, all I saw was sinister. It's an obscurity that no stranger could determine; he is wrathful, egotistical, and cruel. Now, I can see it- now I know who I am looking at.

"This- it's no way to fix things. You need to let me go." I attempt to reason.

His eyes roll rudely, "If I did that, you'd run. I just want to talk. You are the only woman I've ever loved…."

I take a deep breath to gather my composure once more, "Please don't hurt me."

Walter squints his eyes as he looks at me. Surely makeup is running down my face from evident tears. There's no doubt he can see this person he 'loves' is upset.

"I couldn't hurt you." I can hear his tone change; it's insincere and devious. He's saying all the words I want to hear, but his purpose shows through expression. His wild eyes focus on me in a manner that makes my heart pump.

"Please," I answer slowly.

"Of course I couldn't hurt you," aggression is brewing through sarcasm. Walter stands up hastily from the table and slams his fists down so forcefully that the silverware jump up from the surface, "Don't hurt you as you hurt me?"

I am lost for words realizing more about what this is all about. But, unfortunately, I have no way to counter his objection. Fear is boiling through my veins because I am unsure how he will react. What should I say? How can I break free?

He is pacing around the room, rubbing his jaw then scooping his hand behind his head to stroke his hair. It's hard to see him in the dim room, but somehow I can still make out his movements. I watch him warily, hesitant of what he might do next.

"Walter," I mutter, "Can't we just talk. You how much I care."

The words alone feel like they are tainted as they flop from my lips. There is no meaning behind them other than wedging leverage. I wonder if Walter can determine their lack of sincerity.

He rumbles close again, enraged, "You care? Isn't that sweet- now that there's nothing you can do about it, you all the sudden care," Tears are gathering on his lower eyelid as he spits.

"Please stop," I begin to cry, "You're scaring me."

I watch as he relaxes in regards to my plead.

I continue, "Don't you want to fix this?"

Somehow he lowers his guard as he listens. Next, with an overzealous gesture of his head, he joins me at the table once more. He extends the cake that he was eating towards me with the gently used fork in his hand, "Join me for cake?"

I nod, "I'd love to." Then, as he pushes the cake towards me, I collect the most earnest grin I can fake and confirm, "Just like before…."

Walter curls his lips, "Just like before."

The cake sits with the fork now thrown beside it. I glance to the utensil, then to Walter. He gets up out of his chair with the knife in his other hand. Then stands beside me and neatly cuts off a bite-sized piece of cake, balances it on the fork, and feeds it to me.

"Do you like it?" He asks.

"Mmmhhhmm," I answer as I attempt to not let crumbs fall from my mouth onto the table. He gently rubs my back as he starts to feed me another piece. But, I stop him to suggest, "Do you remember? It's my favorite thing to eat cake with a cup of tea."

"Of course I remember. I even remember your favorite kind." He answers proudly.

I look up to him in false pleasantry, "You don't happen to have any, do you?"

"I do!" He answers as he trots off to the kitchen beside the dining room.

He is speaking to me from the kitchen, and I am responding lightly and agreeably as I rip at the ties around my wrists. I coil and shake the bands to no avail when I notice the knife sitting beside the plate of cake. Then, I lean down and use my nose to drop the tool onto the ground.

Clink!

The sound is loud enough to make my heart sink. I wait for Walter to race in to confront the noise, but he doesn't. In fact, our gentle conversation fades as I hear his footsteps exist from the kitchen and move farther into the hallway.

Through the smallest window of time, I lob my chair onto the floor with another crash.

Thud!

"Carley, did I hear something?" I listen as Walter screams from the other room.

"I think it was just a car door outside, sweetie." I lie.

I use my fingers to coach the knife closer to my restrained wrists. The knife weasels right into position as I use it to saw at my ties. In a moment, I break my hands free. In haste, I begin working on my ankles.

Footsteps are getting closer again. I can feel Walter's presence in the room with me.

"Carley?" He questions, panicked just as I free my second ankle.

I am up on my feet in a second, facing the beast with a large knife in one hand. Walter is looking me up and down, gaping.

"You wouldn't use that." He gestures towards the knife in my hand.

"Are you a betting man?" I bark.

He places my cup of tea on the table slowly and raises his hands, "Put the knife down."

"Step aside and let me go." I scream, "I never want to see you again!"

Walter takes a step aside to reveal the front door. So I walk towards him, being sure to face him at all times. I hold the knife out, ready to strike at any move. He is turning with me, watching as I make my way closer to the door.

My fingers lace around the nob for my escape when suddenly I feel him grab my wrist. Immediately, his strength overpowers my movements. I fight back with every piece of my being. But Walter starts twisting my wrist to free the knife from my grip.

Clink!

The knife hits the floor as Walter tugs on my arm toward the table again. Again, he pulls hard as I fight back, frailing my arms, using my weight- anything to break free from his grip.

Then I notice the steaming cup of tea he left sitting on the table. I use my free arm to grab it and hurl it in his face. Instantly, he lets my arm go and covers his face in pain. He is screaming, screaming all sorts of things; profanity, my name- but I am quick to be gone out the door, unable to hear the rest of what the monster is saying.

I run out the door and down his apartment steps until I am stumbling out into a busy street. I am wearing tear marks over my cheeks and screaming, "Help!" the entire time.

A car stops to assist.

As I communicate with a lady, she is quick to call the police. Walter is standing at the top of the steps to his apartment, unmoved and in shock. People around begin to point, cars pile up behind the caring lady. Witnesses are everywhere.

Just then, I can hear sirens screech from the other side of the street. Police officers pile out of the cars and scoop me up with questions. As I attempt to answer them, I look over my shoulder, watching Walter being surrounded by officers who have their guns drawn.

His hands raise in the air as he drops to his knees.

In an instant, the nightmare is over. I am safe.