The bedroom was dark, quiet, serene. Something I'm not quite used to. Back in that old crumby apartment, I always expected the sounds of trouble outside in the streets, the other apartment attendants making noise or that old radiator clanging in a pattern throughout the night. Now, I hear none of that and I don't know whether to feel grateful or uncomfortable. Things are too quiet, too serene. I never thought I'd feel so unnerved by such things when throughout my eight years of suffering, all I've wanted was some peace. I'm not used to this. I'm not used to being taken care of when I've only had myself to depend on. The bed that I'm lying on is so soft, so silky and plush. I've never had that. And I actually have a decent ventilation system above me. Nothing to clang or bang or shudder in the dark. It's just me. Just me.

I turned over in my spot, facing the window next to my bed, looking outside to see nothing but beautiful, lavish houses, mansions. Some windows were lit, indicating the residents were still awake. Others were pitch black and not a soul moved about them as everyone within that residence was asleep for the night. Aside from the neighbors, I saw open spaces full of tended grass, possibly plots waiting to have a home built upon them. I was hoping they weren't as I wanted to have a bit of nature to stand out above the modern or Victorian styled mansions surrounding Elijah's.

I caressed my pale white fingertips against the glass. I wonder if I'll be able to step outside of this place. I have a feeling that I won't. This mansion may be a haven compared to the places I've taken shelter in, but this is also my boundary away from the world now. I'm in a wealthy environment, something I can never blend into. If I'm spotted setting foot outside of this mansion at least once, I'm going to get my ass sent to jail and Elijah will have a lot of explaining to do for holding a criminal within his residence by his own accord. Elijah hadn't discussed this matter with me but I'm sure it's a beneficial option for the both of us. I don't leave this place at all. At least not until I find my own.

Remembering that argument I had with a Elijah, I now realize how stupid I was to have said that. Why would anyone want to have their own crappy place when they're in such a nice home? I made a deal with that red-headed weirdo and now he's expecting me to be leaving one of these days. Me and my stupid pride. To be honest, I don't want to leave. This place has everything: food, drinks, nice ventilation, entertainment, a lot of space, a bed to sleep on that I actually have to struggle to get onto because it's actually waist high. All of the necessities and pleasures I've ever desired for eight years was right in my hands now. But I don't belong here. I know the best option is to leave. Only because one of these days, Elijah is going to regret ever taking me in and I don't want to be there when he realizes that. I don't want to be there to see him suffer in confusion and regret. I don't want to be there to see him possibly turn on me, despite that he's not that kind of kid. I don't want to be there to see if I'll leave him be or do something terrible to him. I don't want to hurt him. I don't want to be there.

I clutched the blanket that covered me and frowned into my pillow. I could just leave now. Open up that window and get this whole thing over with, avoid any trouble that can and will come my way if I stay here any longer. I can leave. Right here and now. I can leave. But, these thoughts are interrupted with the image of that red-head's smile. The way his eyes light up every time he looks at me. Every single time. Those honey-brown, near golden eyes. His flushing face when he gets ditzy and I can barely see his freckles anymore. Such a spazz. I can't leave. Can't open up that window and disappear within the city of McBrennan. I can't leave.

Groaning, I lifted up my pillow and smacked it over my head, then I left it there. My head sandwiched between the pillow and the mattress I rested on. I can't seem to get any sleep despite that things are so peaceful around me. Funny how things were the exact opposite in the run-down ghetto, with nothing but bustle and ruckus in the air. I thought I wanted this: a peaceful point in my life without trouble, without suffrage, without wondering if I'll die today. But, now that this point is here and happening, I'm not ready for such change at all. It feels like I'm risking a lot more now than I ever did before.

"Try and get some sleep...," I muttered to myself. I closed my eyes and calmed down my mind, despite how erratic it gets. The silence in the bedroom was deafening, the foreign ringing in my ears, making me scrunch up my nose in slight irritation. Just sleep. Sleep already. Sleep. Go to-.

I gasped. Fuck...don't ever say that. Not after what happened.. Fuck...
Great, 'spooked myself. Now I really can't sleep. I turn over onto my other side and face the rest of the room. I stared at the door for a good, long while, until my eyes started getting disoriented from trying to focus in the darkness. I closed them and tried getting some rest again. Don't think, don't speak, don't twitch, don't do a thing. Just. Sleep.

And, soon enough, I did.

...

I woke up with the sun in my eyes. Groaning and quickly sitting up to get out of the ray of light, I rubbed my eyes. Once my vision adjusted, I looked around the room. Everything was lit up because of the sun that was coming in through the window. I looked out of that window and saw that the view I had last night was just as quiet and peaceful, only now everything was lit up by the high morning sun.

I looked around the room and sighed. I slid off of the bed and my feet hit the floor with a thud. I groaned slightly, my wounds having not completely healed yet. At the thought of my wounds, I lifted up my shirt and checked on my bandages to see if they shifted. They were still secure and I was glad. I checked the bandages on my arm and it was just as secure too. I shook off the sluggish feelings of the morning, and began walking towards the door. I wasn't limping anymore. I must've improved over night. That's good.

I made my way down the hall. I didn't have a complete layout of this mansion so I had no idea where I was going. I only knew where the kitchen, the dinning room, the bathroom and "my" room was. Kinda.

I walked around through the halls a bit until I recognized the doorway to the kitchen. For some reason, I was thinking Elijah would be in here but upon opening the door, the room was empty. I closed it and then went to the dinning room across from the kitchen. I opened up the door and checked the area. Nothing but the table and chairs. I scratched my head and left out into the hallway again. I'm sure Elijah couldn't be in the bathroom. There's more than one, I'm sure, so he wouldn't be in the one I use. Scowling, I kept walking through the halls until I came upon the foyer. In front of the main entrance were a set of stairs. Now that I look at it, I never once thought that there were stairs in this place. Probably explains a lot more things than I could question.

I walked up the stairs and walked down the hall of the second floor. I passed by a lot of rooms, all of which I didn't enter. The entire place was quiet and I began to feel on edge. Why is it so damn quiet?

I suddenly heard a clang above me and my feet scrambled. I backed up against a wall and swerved my head around, wondering what was going on. My head suddenly felt light headed and I panted. After a few moments, I finally realized that the clang I heard was just the heater turning back on. I let out a relieved sigh and berated myself for having freaked out so much over a little thing. I kept walking around until I decided that nothing of importance was up here. So, I made my way back downstairs into the foyer. I wandered around aimlessly, trying to find Elijah. Jeez, how does he get around in this place? Kid could be dying to use the bathroom and he has to get through all of this crap.

My stomach growled and I held myself. Jesus, it's practically trying to kill me. I groaned and tried to find the kitchen again. My stomach kept growling and I was growing impatient with this house and it's snaking hallways. Finally I made it to the kitchen and ran for what looked like the pantry. I opened it up grabbed the first thing I saw. I popped the snack bag open and stuffed whatever the food was into my mouth. After two or three handfuls of it, my stomach shut up and I sighed contently. I leaned against the pantry doorway and looked down at what I had grabbed. I stared at a mini Oreo snack pack and chuckled. Isn't this the stuff Elijah offered to me that one time at the book store? I looked back into the pantry and my chuckling ceased as I stared at a whole shelf dedicated to Oreos. "Holy crap," I mumbled. Freckles really likes those cookies doesn't he? "Fuck, man," I muttered. All of the other shelves had other foods; canned food, bread, cereal, etc.

I left the kitchen after I finished the snack pack of Oreos and walked back out through the halls and to the foyer. I looked to the left to see an open space, with the decorations of a living room. I walked in and gazed at the plush red chesterfield sofas and a chocolate brown coffee table in the center of the room. I ran my hands over the smooth leather of the furniture and traced a finger over the decorative buttons along the side of the armrests or the back of the sofa. The furniture lay on top of a decorative rug with crimson and gold floral patterns on all four edges of the whole thing. Everything in the room seemed beautiful and lavish.

I left and went to explore a little more closely than I did before. It wasn't noticeable at first, but I realized how utterly quiet the whole house was. I bet I could hear a pin drop two rooms over. Not only was this unnerving but it was easier to hear the little creaks and groans of the mansion's structure. The sounds could easily be mistaken for someone moving about on the other side of the place. I wondered how anyone could stand these things, especially someone like Freckles. Kid looks like he'd jump at the sound of a toilet flushing. These noises were beginning to unnerve me greatly and my body grew tense with paranoia. Suddenly, the hallway felt like a death trap and I quickly bolted inside of the closest room. I shut the door and leaned against it, taking in the tranquility of the room I ran into.

I finally looked around and found that there was a piano on the opposite side. There was another sofa and speakers opposite to that piece of furniture. Shelves of CDs stood beside the speakers and I spotted a cello in the corner, sitting on a stand. This must be the music room. I walked and stood in the center and took everything in. The black piano shined as the windows behind it let sunlight beam onto it. I walked up beside it and traced my fingers over the sleek top. It was beautiful. I looked down at the black and white keys and pressed one, letting a note ring in the air. I smiled and gently pressed another. I wish I knew how to play the piano. It's such a melodic and gorgeous instrument. I bet I would've practiced it, if not for what happened eight years ago. The one instrument I could sort of play was the ukulele. My dad liked to play it with me when he was bored. He always had this quirky smile on his face whenever he'd play, especially if he was playing Somewhere Over The Rainbow. I think my mom had recorded the two of us singing the song while my dad played the chords. It sucked of course, as my eight-year-old voice wasn't fit for singing, but my mom had loved it either way. It was a bittersweet memory. God, they didn't deserve their fate.

I brushed off the memory before I grew too saddened and I took a seat on the sofa. I crossed my legs and leaned against the armrest as I stared down at the rug. Everything was calm and birds chirped outside of the windows. I wondered where Freckles was. Where could he have gone? I would've run into him by now if he was still here. This is starting to worry me. It shouldn't, but it is. He's a weird little dork, so there's no telling what he could get mixed up with. I mean, he took me in, for crying out loud. That says a lot.

"Damn," I grumbled and plopped over across the sofa on my side. My side throbbed for a few moments from my healing injuries but I deduced it as nothing. I kept my eyes forward, staring at the shelf of CDs and the speakers next to it. An idea came to mind and I got back on my feet. I walked up to the shelf and checked out the CDs. Most of them were classic rock albums or Indie. I smiled as I came across a really nice album and stared at the cover. "Freckles, you may be a weirdo," I said, "but damn do you have great taste."

I took out the CD and popped it into the CD slot on the speaker box. A song by The Black Keys started playing and I felt relieved to be rid of that unnerving silence around here. I backed away from the speakers and fell back onto the sofa. I let the CD case fall next to me and I laid back down on my side again. I watched the little screen above the CD slot as it showed the spectrum analyzer of the song's rhythms and such. The music began to lull me and I ended up taking an unintended nap on the plush, crimson sofa.

...

"Wakey, wakey, Jane," a dark, chilling voice said. My eyes snapped open and my body began to flail in an attempt to struggle. I felt rope rub against my skin, causing it to scratch and irritate it. In my mind, everything was a wild blur and I could barely breathe. I looked down at my pale feet as they kicked around feebly. My slender hands clawed into the arm of the chair I was tied to and I felt a nail bend and break.

A bloody knife was wagged in front of me carelessly and a voice chimed, "You'll only hurt yourself if you keep that up. You're feistier than you look, did you know that?" There was an annoying sobbing echoing in the room and it took me a while to realize I was making the sobbing. "Don't cry," the chilling voice said sympathetically, "You'll be perfectly fine after I'm done! Your parents look pretty good! In fact, why don't I let you have a look at them!" I watched the figure as they walked around the chair. Then, I could feel myself being dragged along in the chair as the cringing squeak and screech of the chair legs being scraped across the floor sounded. I tried to stop him from dragging me along as I tried pressing my feet onto the floor. It didn't work out.

"I wanted to wait until I was done with you, but I'm an impatient person," the voice chatted, as if we were friends, "plus, I did an amazing job of your parents and I want to show that off!"

The chair was suddenly spun around and I yelped from the abrupt action. The room he took me into was dark. I could make out the faint frame of the dinning table in front of me. "Are you ready to see your parents," the voice asked. I whirled my head violently, not knowing if I was nodding or shaking my head. The lights came on and flickered for a few seconds. I looked in front of me and let out a shrilled scream. "M-Mom..?! D-Dad..?!" I cried as I stared at their mutilated faces. They sat in the spots they took every time we had dinner. They were strewn up to look like they were casually sitting but I knew they weren't.

"What do you think," the voice asked me and I saw them place a hand on my arm. Immediately, I screamed at them and shook my head. I thrashed about in my seat, howling, "Those aren't my parents!! They can't be!! They're hideous and disgusting!! I want my mom and dad!!! GIVE THEM BACK TO ME!!!" I kept screaming and tearing up my vocal cords. I kept struggling to the point were my chair started tipping back and soon I hit the floor. Even then, I kept struggling and screaming.

"Those are your mom and dad," the voice said, and they seemed on the verge of rage, "Didn't you see them? They're right there! Right in front of you!!!"

"GIVE THEM BACK!!! GIVE THEM BACK!!" I sobbed.

"They're right fuckin' there!!!," They hollered at me. Their figure loomed over me and I caught a glimpse of a pale face and a mop of black hair. I yelled at them and hit my head against the back of the chair over and over again. They grabbed the back of the chair and started dragging me into the living room, leaving my parents sitting dead in their seats in the dinning room. They dropped me and I stayed on the floor, still tied to the chair.

"Maybe it's a good thing you're so displeased with the way your parents look," the voice started, "Constructive criticism, it is! It's good! Now I know what not to do to you! I'll make sure you're pleased with yourself this time..."

"N-No," I pleaded, "no, no, no!!!"

They laughed happily, insanely and I replied to it with fearful screams. There was a sudden warmth between my legs and it traveled down and stained my nightgown. I sobbed and shuddered wildly as fear racked my body like never before. The figure got on top of me and began beating me, over and over again. I cried pathetically as blood spilled into my mouth and flooded my nose. "Glad we have a great baseline going," the voice commented and I sobbed in response. "Hey Jane," they called, "do you get sick by the smell of gasoline? It's a strange smell, you either love it or hate it. I like it. I hope you do too, because there's going to be a lot of it soon."

I shook my head around and screamed, though judging by the lack of help, no one could hear me. No one at all.

"Oh Jane," they sang, "Jane! Jane! Jaaane!!"

...

"Jane?!"

I woke up thrashing and screaming bloody murder.

"GET OFF OF ME!!" I screamed. "GET AWAY!!! GO AWAY!!!"

"It's me Elijah!" Someone told me breathlessly. I opened my eyes and panted. Tears brimmed my eyes and a few had already made their way down my cheeks. My head was spinning and I clawed at something in front of me. I felt hands hold my head gently, wiping my tears away. Once I was calm enough, I looked up and found Elijah next to me. His honey-brown eyes shined but his face was contorted with concern. I looked down at my hands and found them clawing into his arms. My nails dug into his bare skin and I tried to pry them off but I was too rattled to succeed.

"What happened," he asked me and I looked back up at him. I shook my head and my lips trembled. His expression softened and he brushed away the hair that stuck to my sweaty forehead. "You're okay," he said and something in me snapped.

"How do you know?!" I screamed at him. "You don't!! You don't know that!! Don't tell me that!! Don't lie to me!!!"

"I'm not," he said.

"Shut up," I growled and let him go. I held my head and turned away from him, forming into a little ball on the sofa. I shut my eyes tightly and trembled. Elijah was silent and I could feel his gaze on me. I wanted to yell at him some more but I felt too shaken and tired to do so.

"Do you want me to leave," he asked, reluctantly. Surprisingly, I shook my head and murmured a feeble, "No." I felt his warm hand graze against my skin and I flinched. Elijah reeled back a moment before continuing. He squeezed my arm gently and comfortingly. I placed a trembling hand on his and squeezed back.

"I bought you some food," he stated randomly.

I sniffled and asked, "What is it...?"

"Subway," he replied.

I paused. "Is that good," I asked.

He shrugged. "It's good," he said, "they have soups and pizza and cookies but it's all mostly sandwiches."

I furrowed my brow. "They put the pizza and cookies as a sandwich," I muttered. Elijah chuckled, "N-No, they serve sandwiches but they also have other things."

"Oh," I mumbled, "that makes sense."

"I'll bring the food to you," he said and stood up. He walked out of the room, leaving me alone. I took this time to get myself together. I hate when I have those nightmares. I end up turning into a shaking, sobbing mess and I don't calm down until two hours pass. That's how it goes every time.

When Elijah came back, I was sitting upright and I was somewhat calmed. He had two drinks in his hands and a plastic bag hanging by his wrist. "Here," he said as he handed me one of the drinks and took out a wrapped sandwich. "I also bought some cookies that you might like," he added and took out a little paper bag. "Thank you," I murmured and began to unwrap the sandwich. I bit into it and I could feel my nerves cease.

"Do you like it," Elijah asked me. I nodded and kept eating. The both of us sat in silence as we ate our food. I was halfway through the sandwich when I suddenly asked, "Where were you today?"

He looked at me and answered, "I was at school."

"School? You attend school?" I asked.

He chuckled. "Yes. I have to."

"How come you didn't tell me anything about this," I muttered.

"I left a note by your nightstand, saying I would be in school from six in the morning until three-fifteen in the afternoon," he stated. I stared. He asked me, "Did you read the note at all?"

I looked away. "N-No," I admitted and bit into my sandwich. He chuckled again. I stared down at my sandwich and squeezed it slightly. "I was bored without you," I remarked quietly. He looked at me and said, "My apologies."

"It's fine," I said, "it's my fault for not reading the note."

"Do you feel okay," he asked me and I knew he was referring to my breakdown. I sighed. "Yeah," I answered, "I'm fine. I'm just glad you came to wake me up."

"Me too," he said, "when I found you, you were crying in your sleep. I thought something was wrong and so I woke you up."

"That's embarrassing," I remarked with a dry chuckle.

"What did you dream about," Elijah asked me, with some hesitance in his tone. I bit my lip and hung my head low. "Something bad," I answered and I left it at that. There were a few more moments of silence and the both us didn't try to eat during that. Suddenly, Elijah held out his hand to me and said, "Whatever it was, it doesn't exist here." I stared down at his hand and I wondered why he was doing this. Hesitantly, I placed my hand in his and he clasped it softly. My eyes traveled to his arms and I saw the crescent shaped imprints of my nails still in his skin. I felt kinda bad for that. I'm sure it hurts. I looked up at him and stared into his eyes, seeing a light shine within them. He gave me a smile that made me feel...safe. He looked so sure of himself and, soon enough, I grew to believe it too. I squeezed his hand in return and nodded. "Yeah," I mumbled, managing a small smile.

From then on, we finished up our food and I allowed Elijah to keep holding onto my hand. For his sake, of course. I couldn't believe I was already calm, though. Thirty minutes hadn't even passed. I stopped trembling and I wasn't overly paranoid. I was completely fine. Did I calm down quicker because of Freckles? Maybe it was the food? Both? I'm leaning more towards food...

"Agh, I got chocolate in my hair," Elijah groaned, a warm chocolate chip cookie in his hands. He picked at the tips of his red hair that had melted chocolate but he seemed to make it worse. I sighed and shook my head at him.

It was definitely the food.

-

YES, YES, I KNOW I HAVE NOT UPDATED THIS IN A LONG WHILE BUT I DID IT! PROBABLY NOT THE BEST CHAPTER BUT I TRIED. NEXT ONE WILL BE BETTER! I WON'T BE DROPPING THIS STORY, NO MATTER WHAT, SO NO ONE HAS TO WORRY ABOUT THAT. ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS, DESPITE THE LONG WAIT AND THE SUBTLENESS OF THIS CHAPTER. THANKS FOR STILL STICKING WITH IT!

Stay Creepy, My Friends!~