The sound of his breathing jolts me out of my sleep, and I sit up, gasping for a breath.  I know the chime didn’t go off, and I look at him as he stands there, with some kind of device in his hands.  I won’t even question what it is.  At this point, I know he’s capable of anything.  He keeps telling me about the different things he’s planning for me...for us.  I tune him out, mostly, just smile and nod.  I don’t say much anymore, really, not unless he asks me a direct question.  He likes it better when I just listen and agree, and it’s the safest play.  If I go along with what he wants, if I don’t fight back, he’s happier, and a happier Preston, means a better life in here for me.

I’m losing my grip.  I’m coming up on month three of my imprisonment, and by the end of this one, I don’t know if I’ll remember my old life, my parents...Carter...

Or Justin.

He comes to me in my dreams, asking me what’s wrong, telling me to ask him for help, and I try to tell him.  But then the gag is in my mouth and he just gets frustrated.

Then he’s gone.

That’s when I wake up, sweating, crying...asking for somebody to help me.  Preston can’t hear me...not yet.  That device hasn’t been installed so far.  He never sleeps down there with me.  We have sex during the day, usually after my shower.

It’s something I’ve come to hate more than anything else.

I’d rather be strapped to the bed...gagged and deprived of water.

I can’t...I can’t take him touching me anymore.

“Morning baby.” He smiles and sits down on the edge of my bed, smiling as he runs his hand over my hair, something he loves to do.  “Don’t look so scared,” he laughs.  “It’s early, you didn’t miss your tone.  I just couldn’t wait, I wanted to try this out.  How about we get you dressed?”

I nod.

He pulls me out of bed and we run through the normal routine.  Cuffs off, shackled in the shower, wash myself, and then...towel dried and put into the day dress of Preston’s choice.  Then...back in cuffs, and I put on that smile for him he demands.  He kisses me, long and hard, running his hands underneath my dress and touching me inside and out.

I try not to whimper but I can’t hold back.

“Babe?”  He pulls back and stares at me for a long time, his expression full of confusion.  “I...I didn’t hurt you did I?’

“N-no...no I’m okay.” I shake my head rapidly.  “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not in the mood, is that it?”

He’s angry, and I wish I could have held my emotions back.  There was an episode last week.  I said something wrong...I can’t remember now, but I was punished...gagged and strapped to the bed.  He left me there for two days.  Two days, and I definitely felt a whole lot weaker after it was over.  Being inside all the time does that I guess...sucks the life out of you.  I’m getting paler all the time, and I sleep a lot more.  I can tell Preston is noticing the change.  He keeps telling me that he’s going to put a tanning bed in the house, so I won’t look sick all the time.  

“I...”

He yanks me to him.  “Don’t start with your crap.  You know I hate that.”

“I’m sorry,” I whimper.  “Preston, I’m sorry.”

He kisses me and I force myself to kiss him back, not making a sound when he lifts my dress up and continues to grope me.   “That’s what I thought,” he whispers, when he’s finally done, and pulls my dress back down again.  “Now here, let me get this on...”  He trails off and grabs that device off the desk.  It’s a large metal collar, with a lot of wiring and lights, but I know it’s a lot more than that.  He puts it around my neck, and smiles when it seems to be just the right fit for me. It’s a little heavy, but not so much that it’s uncomfortable.  It has a lever that Preston pushes up, and locks into place with a little key.  The thing gets tighter around my neck, as if I wouldn’t be able to pull it off if I tried to.  Then something beeps, and I know whatever it is, has been activated.  I have no idea where he got it.  Hell, the way he’s been acting, he probably made it himself.

I know it’s time for me to experience the outside.

He’s held off since he showed it to me, told me he didn’t think I was ready and that the ‘security device’ had some bugs.  I guess it’s fixed though...I guess he thinks it’s safe to let me out there now.  It’s been so long, that I don’t even care what he puts on me.  Just the thought of that warm sunshine on my face...the fresh air, fills me with more excitement than I’ve had in months.

He escorts me upstairs, and to the back door.  The gag goes on without any protesting from me, and then we are on the outside.  The fresh air feels warm and welcoming, despite my situation, and I try to focus on that more than anything else.

“Walk towards the fence.”

I do it.  When I’m within an inch, I feel the collar begin to vibrate, and then it makes a short, firm beeping sound.

“Take another step.”

I look at him.  His arms are crossed though, and the look on his face is telling me I better do it.

So I do.

Immediately I hear the thing start to beep much more rapidly.  Then I feel a powerful jolt of power rush through my body, and I scream through the gag as I fall to the ground.  I yank on the collar, but it doesn’t come off.  I cry.  I actually cry in front of him for the first time in weeks.

“It’s perfect.”r32;

He sounds...happy, and I can’t believe him.

I can’t.

He walks in front of me, and helps me up, consoling me as I break down and cry into his chest.  

“Calm down,” he whispers in my ear.  “It’s harmless.  It can’t hurt you, not unless you hold onto the fence.  Otherwise, you’ll just feel that sharp pain, every time you get too close.  You have to teach yourself to stay away.  I know you’re smart enough to do that.”

I just nod, trying to stifle my sobbing so my nose doesn’t get clogged up, preventing me from taking in air through my nose.

“Have a seat over here.”

He ushers me over to a patio chair and smiles as he guides me down into it.

I look down at my lap, at my chained hands, and nothing else.

“Be happy, Bets.  Today is your first half hour on the outside.  I’m going to shower, and when I’m done, it should be time to go in.  Maybe we can play Monopoly or something to kill the afternoon away, huh?”

Seriously?

“Try to have a good time.  It won’t always be this way.”  He says it happily, and I feel his hand running through my hair again.

He walks away, and as I see him entering the code to get back inside, I can see his gun peeking out of his pants.

God, I need to get it.

I can’t continue this way.  I can’t be treated like a science project anymore.  Everyday, it’s one more torture device after the next.  One day, it will backfire.

One day, I’ll be dead from one of his so called security experiments.

He’s finally gone, and I wait several moments before I’m convinced that he’s far from the door.  I grunt and groan, scream through the gag, hoping that somebody will hear my muffled cries.  But there’s nothing, just birds and the wind.  I eye the camera high above, wondering if he’s watching right now or if he’s distracted by his shower.

Maybe I can take the belt off...

Maybe just for a minute, scream...and...and maybe he won’t know.

I raise my hands, touch the belt, feeling it digging into my face.  I have marks there now.  Bloody chaffing marks on what was once smooth, soft skin.  I pull down, willing the belt to move.  But it’s tight, almost too tight.  I have to unbuckle if I want a chance.  I know he says the nearest house is fifteen miles away, that we’re alone...

But if we’re alone, why would he have to worry about somebody hearing me?

Maybe he’s lying.

I unbuckle, and the gag falls to the ground.  For a moment I just stare at it, not believing that I’ve disobeyed Preston, but only for a moment, before I come to my senses and stand up again, screaming louder than I ever have before.

“HELP ME! PLEASE HELP! PLEASE! I’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED!”

Nothing.

I sob, sit back down.

I should have known better.

And then, the unthinkable happens.

I hear it...the door open.  Then, he’s standing there, smiling, as if he knew what I was up to all along.

“I knew I couldn’t trust you, Betsy.  Did you honestly think I would go shower like that, on your first day on the outside?”

I sit there, frozen, staring at him, trembling, like what I just did...is going to be the last thing I ever do. How the hell could I be so stupid? Of course it was a trick. “Preston...”

He storms over to me, and yanks me up. Then, he pushes me into the fence.  I get shocked a few times, and I scream so hard, because it hurts so bad.  Then I fall to the floor, and he’s on top of me, hitting me, telling me that I made a big, big mistake.  That he’ll never trust me again.

And I know he won’t.

He grabs the gag and forces it on again.  I try to force him off, before he can get the cloth into my mouth, kicking and scratching.  Nothing works, he’s not phased, and he doesn’t even have to use the gun this time.  Eventually, he gets the gag fastened again, and hauls me to my feet.  He unlocks the collar thing, tossing it onto the ground, before dragging me back into the house.  Nothing is said to me as he hauls me back to the dungeon, and I know what’s coming when he pushes me down on the bed.

“I don’t know what else to do, except leave you here.”  He holds me down, pressing his knee into the middle of my chest as he takes the chains off and straps my limbs to the bed.  “Maybe it’s for the best...maybe...maybe we just aren’t meant to be.  I’ll let you think about that, while your body shuts down.  It’ll take a week, maybe more.  I’m...I’m sorry, you know?  I wanted this to work out, but...it just doesn’t seem like it can.  You’ve disobeyed the rules, one of the biggest rules I set into place for you.”

“GRRRRMFFF!”

“Shh-shh,” he smirks, when he’s finished the job, and caresses my face.  “You’ll get dehydrated that much faster.”

I shake my head rapidly as he starts to back off.  My hope starts to fade, the tears flood my vision...I know he’s really serious.  He’s about to abandon me, leave me for dead, and nobody will ever know.

I have to stop him, but how can I?

I thrash around, moaning loudly and desperately, pleading for my life.  He turns and laughs while he watches me struggle.  “Oh Betsy.”

I sob pathetically, continue to shake my head, and for whatever reason, he doesn’t leave.

Thank God.

“What would you do with one more chance?” He whispers as he looms above me.  

I just whimper.

“Do you love me?”r32;

I nod, and sniffle.  

He smiles that insane smile he’s so famous for these days.  “If I give you a chance to live...you understand there are going to be severe repercussions for what you’ve done, don’t you?”

“Mmhm.”  

He slowly loosens the gag and lets it hang down.  “Are you prepared to accept your punishment?”

“Anything.” I rasp, my eyes filled with tears.  “Please...just...just don’t...don’t leave me here.”
 
He sighs harshly, and puts a hand to his mouth, debating something very heavily, before speaking again.  “I’ll be back in the morning.”

“But...”

The gag is back in my mouth before I can finish, and then he walks out, for real this time.  

I know when the morning comes, my life is going to change once again.  No longer will Preston be trying to make me comfortable, he’ll be dead set on torturing me instead, breaking me down bit by bit so I’ll never have the will power to try and fight again.

If I don’t do something, I know I won’t have another chance.  I just hope and pray to God that I can get a break, any kind of break, before it’s too late.
**************
“Wake up.”r32;

I’m being slapped in the face, and my eyes pop open.  I’m sore...everywhere, from another night of being tied down to the bed.  I groan, but when his gun is pressed into the middle of my forehead, I stop and stare at him.  

“Stay still.”

He puts the gun on the nightstand, so he can unstrap me.  I look at it.  I would only need a second or two out of his grasp.  Then...then I might have a chance.  He gets one wrist out of it’s restraint, and then goes down to work on my feet.  I keep staring at the gun.  It’s calling out to me, telling me to take a risk.

And then I hear Justin’s voice telling me to do it too.

“You’re stronger than him Betsy,” he tells me.  “I know you can beat him.”

I scrunch my face in determination, and the moment one of my feet is free, I kick him as hard as I can in the gut.  Surprised, he doubles over, trying to catch his breath, and I go for it.  I lean my body over as far as I can with my other wrist still tied down, and I grasp the cool steel handle in my hand, pointing it at him, as he gets his bearings.  He stares at me for a long time, smirking, as if I’m still under his control.

“What’re you gonna do, Bets? Kill me? Go ahead.  You’ll never get out of here.  Not without me.  Did you forget I have all the codes?”

I barely listen.  I can’t back down, not now.  I cock the gun and groan through the gag, motioning for him to finish untying me.  He does it, without protest, and I rip the gag off as soon as my other arm is freed, making sure to keep the gun on him.  “Get down.”  I croak.  “Do it.”

He laughs, and gets down on his knees, putting his hands in the air.  “So how are you getting out?”

“Give me the code.”

“Not happening, Bets.”

I walk right up to him and press the gun to his head.  “I swear I’ll do it,” I whimper.

“Then we can die together.  I’ll go first, and then you can use the other bullet to put in your own brain.”

I can’t believe this.  I can’t, and what’s even more insane? His idea is starting to sound appealing.

But I don’t want to die.  Not yet.

“What are you waiting for, Betsy?”  He says it very slowly, and then...he springs to his feet and lunges at me.

My instincts tell me to shoot, so I’ll be protected, and so I do.

The bullet hits him in the chest, and he doubles back just as his hands go to grab the gun.  His eyes get really wide, and he gasps for a breath as he clutches his chest and falls back down to the floor.  Within seconds, his shirt is stained with a large mass of deep scarlet blood.

I know he’s dying.

It causes the gun to slip out of my hands, and I put them over my head, trying to make sense of it all.  Did I shoot him? Is he really going to die here, with me, in this little locked room? Am I going to be trapped down here with him, while his corpse rots and I starve to death?

Oh my God.

“Be...Bets.”

It’s hardly more than a whisper, but I’m afraid to approach him.  Afraid that it’s an act...that he’ll spring back to life and kill me before he completely fades away.  I stay where I am, cross my arms, and continue to tremble, but I say nothing.

“I...I never...wanted things...” he trails off, and begins to cough up thick mouthfuls of blood.  “I never wanted...wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did.  You did sick fucking things to me,” I sob.  “Why?”

“I...I just wanted...to keep you...close.  Dad...said...to lock you...up.  Ga-gave...ga-ve m-me th-the m-m-money...s-s-said no-not to b-bring y-you ho-home...”

He trails off again, and I slowly approach him this time, shaking my head in disbelief, being able to see his eyes rolling into the back of his head.  Preston seems to channel all the energy he has left, to pull his cell phone out of his pocket, and he tosses it my way.  “F-forgive me.”

I kneel down next to him, and sob.  I stroke his face gently, and that’s so fucking crazy.  What the hell am I doing? After all he’s done to me...I’m showing him compassion?  I guess...I guess right now, I’m seeing that guy.  He’s not crazy Preston anymore.  He’s the one that I fell in love with years ago, that I’d been trying so hard to get back.  

But it’s too late now.  He’ll be dead soon, and then...

Then I’ll be here alone.

“I wish I could,” I cry.  “I wish we could have loved each other like we were supposed to. I...I wish you...I wish you could have thought things through, Pres.  It shouldn’t have come down to this.”

He smiles though, and keeps his eyes fixed on me.  It’s a small, weak, smile.  “I’ll...a-always love...love you, Bets.  I-I...I’m sorry.”

I grasp his hand as he reaches out desperately for a final touch from me, his eyes telling me that he means it.  That he didn’t want to do any of this.  That he just...lost his mind a bit, and his father gave him a suggestion.  A sick one, that he went through with.

Then he’s still, his eyes open in a vacant, everlasting stare.

He’s gone.

It takes me a few minutes to get over the shock of seeing him there like that.  Then something clicks on inside of me...that part that is immune to my situation, and determined to get out of here.  I search his body for some kind of paper or pad with the key codes written out, getting more of his blood smeared all over me, but I don’t find them on him.  They must be upstairs.  Right, upstairs...that’s where I need to be.

But how?

The phone.

I see it there on the floor, Prestons final gift to me, and I let out a crazy little laugh like I’ve never seen anything so wonderful in my life.  I snatch it off the ground, where he dropped it, and desperately dial Carter’s number with shaking hands, praying it’s still the same one.

“Preston...what the hell is going on! Enough with this bullshit! I want to know where my sister is!  I know you're a lying piece of shit!”  His voice comes over the line, enraged, and I know...I know it’s been a battle of his for some time, getting to the bottom of everything.  I knew he would never believe that I ran away, but he hasn’t been able to find me.  This place is entirely too isolated, and Preston never would have given me up.

“Carter?”

“Betsy...Betsy is that you?”r32;

“Carter please come get me,” I sob.  “Please get me out.”

“Where...Jesus...where are you?  Why haven’t you called me?  Why the hell did you disconnect your cell phone?  Fuck, do you know how...I’ve been going out of my mind, everyone has.  Preston said you left, but I wouldn’t believe it.  Mom and dad...they went up to the police and reported you missing, but they wouldn't look into it because...because they said you left on your own and...”

“Carter!” I scream it at him, and he shuts up immediately.  “Would you please...please just listen to me?”

“I’m...God Betsy, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know where I am,” I cry, I ignoring his apology.  “Preston blindfolded me when he brought me here.  I’m locked in the house.  The doors are...you need a code to open them.  I can’t leave.”

“Blindfolded you?  Betsy what the fuck...”r32;

“It’s a long story...I just...I need you to get me help.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s...”  I look at him again, lying there dead on the floor, and I break down, barely being able to get out a full sentence.  “He’s...he’s dead...I...he tried to...”

“Betsy...shh.”  

It’s horrible. I can’t even imagine what he must be going through on the other end of the line.  While he’s relieved that I’m alive, I know he wants nothing more than to get to me...but that’s going to take some time.  

“You have to call 911,” he continues.  “They’ll be able to trace the call.”

“It’s Eli,” I whimper.  “Eli was behind the whole thing.”

“Betsy, you have to call 911,” he repeats, his voice cool and calm.  “Everything else...we can talk about later.”

“No...no I can’t.  I can’t hang up...I need you, Carter.  I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me.  Betsy, I promise,” he reassures me, and I can hear the crack in his voice.  It means he can’t hold his emotions back for me much longer.  “God...just do it okay? I’ll...I’ll be on a plane to wherever you are as soon as I can.  The police will get me there.  Now hang up and dial.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you’re scared.  But you have to.  You’re brave, Bets.  You’re so brave.  I know you can do this.”

I take in a long breath, close my eyes.  I know he’s right, that it’s the only way.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I painstakingly end the call, and quickly do what he’s told me to, all the while keeping my gaze fixed on Preston.  It makes me sick to my stomach, and I dry heave a couple of times, before the operator picks up.

“911 what is your emergency?”

“My name is Betsy Collins,” I whimper.  “I’ve been held hostage for almost three months.  I don’t know where I am, but please send help.”

“Is the suspect with you?”

I gaze down at him, lying on the floor.  “He...he tried to kill me, but I...he...he’s dead.”

“Okay.  That’s okay, ma’am.  Just stay on the line, and we’ll attempt to trace the call.  Can you tell me anything about where you’re being held?”

“I’m locked in here...the doors in the house only open if you have the codes.  I’m in a secret room...down in the basement.  Please tell them that, and please send my brother...Carter Collins,” I whimper.  “He’s in Santa Monica.  I...I need to see him, please.”

I break down, sob harshly into the phone, because I don’t know what else to do.

Fucking Jesus, there’s a dead body ten feet from me.  A body that I made that way.  A body that, at one time, was alive, and so much different.  It was a man who loved me, and that I loved, until he changed.

“Just hang on ma’am.  I need you to remain calm and stay on the phone with me.  We've pinpointed your location, and help is on the way.”

I sob some more, and sink down to the floor, relieved.  It’s happening.  

It’s finally happening.

I’m getting out.

I'm getting out, but I know...I'll never be the same.