Locked up with the Badboy.

I take a seat on the floor in front of him, "What?"

He combs a hand through his dark hair and sighs, "This is a maximum security prison, the people here have killed babies, shot up schools , killed multiple partners and run crime rings and you, are saying that I'm mean? "

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30. and safe?

 

Inside is warm, far warmer then you’d expect from an empty houseso maybe they’ve gone out for dinner or to a movie. I let out a little sigh, I’m worried that they’ll disown me. I’m worried that they’ll just forgive me.

A pattering of feet on lino races around from the kitchen toward me. It’s a tiny white and brown ball of energy, “Mr Mittens!” I yell, scooping the small dog up and holding him in my arms as he licks my face. “You’re crazy boy.”

Apparently he can’t get enough of me because even when I’ve let him down, he still worms his way between my feet and rolls onto his back, determined to get a scratch. I rub his belly until he relents then I walk to our pantry and start pulling out food.

 

A packet of chocolate chip biscuits disappears down my throat, followed by a sparkling pomegranate. Some muesli bars enter my pockets and I exit the kitchen feeling a million miles higher then before.

T.V doesn’t interest me so I walk around the house, picking up photos and sports equipment and remembering.

Mr Mittens sit next to my bedroom door growling , I pick him up again because he’s so small and adorable, “Hey there Mittens, you missed me boy? You missed me?”

Holding him with one hand I use the other to open my bedroom door, stepping in I smile. Everything is the way it was. Walking in I notice a layer of dust covering everything, the desk, the floor. Strangely the bed is clean, as if it had just been slept in.

Behind me the door creaks shut and Mittens give another crazy growl, leaping out of my arms. He sprints toward the door and leaps at the figure who was behind it.

Receiving an almighty kick Mittens flails across the room and whimpers as he slams into a bookshelf. Dust rises in the air. The figure wears all black and has a balaclava covering his face, but as they press me onto my bed. Lying on top of me I recognise the eyes; It’s Nigel. He’s come for me.

****

My surprise at seeing the creep who stalked me enables him to get a firm grip on my arms and push them to my sides. He places a leg on each of mine. Both of us pant at the sudden exertion and I try to wriggle a little but he has me held firm. Nigel places a wet kiss on my cheek, “Hey Baby didn’t expect to see you here.”

“What are you doing Nigel? You creep, this is my parents house.” I wipe my cheek on a blanket.

“Hey, none of that hostility Clara, I came here because I wanted to know what it was like.” He grins and I see the creepy little moustache he’s grown twitching.

“What, what was like?” There’s no use struggling so I try to relaxmyself, ease the pin that spreads through my arms.

He rests his chin on my chest, right between my boobs. “What it’s like to sleep in your bed.”

“Eww, you were sleeping here? My parents would never…”

He laughs again, “Your parents aren’t here Clara, they took a holiday to Canada when all the stuff about you blew up.”

That kind of sounds like my Mum, escaping the trouble, finding somewhere cam to shelter the storm. Nigel rubs the corner of my mouth with a finger, “You missed a little biscuit.” He licks his finger, “Damn you taste good.”

“Uh, Nigel.” I say, “Do you think you could hop off me? I’m kind of getting sore.”

He stares at me a moment, I can sense the little stalker-cogs in his head turning. Eventually he shrugs, “Sure and wrapping an arm around me helps me to sit up. The arm stays there though, feeling, warning.

Mr Mittens wakes up and starts growling again, “Shush up boy.” I say, trying to shield him from Nigel’s rage. “It’s only Nigel, you’ve met him before…”

“That dog is a savage mongrel,” Nigel says, “It practically bit my leg off when I broke into your house.”

Before I can stop myself sarcasm is there, “I wonder why?”

He stares at me for a moment, and I think Shit I’m dead. But Nigel just laughs, “C’mon baby, I’ve got a sense of humour, that was funny.”

“Ok.”

He looks down at me. “Now I think that it’s time we started catching up on lost time.” Another laugh follows and I start to feel sick to my stomach. Mittens growls again, deep in his throat.

Nigel kisses me, right on the lips. I pull back but he follows, and then one of his hands meets the back of my head and squishes me into him. Nigel kisses like a coward, his lips are weak, he pretends to close his eyes but they still flit open. His hand tries to get to my boobs but the leather jacket stands in his way.

Nigel takes a breath and goes for another kiss, but I beat him to it. Vomiting cookies over the front of his shirt. The creep stares, then laughs, and begins rubbing his groin area as he licks up the partly digested cookies.

The scene in front of me is so nauseating and disgusting that I begin to cry, big fat tears that get me angry. I hate Nigel, I hate life.

Mittens attacks, sinking his teeth into the creeps leg. My spew dripping from the corner of his mouth Nigel lets out an almighty howl and twists to find my dog.

Standing on the bed, I hesitate for a moment before kicking freak in the head. His nose smashes against a cabinet and he drops to the ground crying, running out of the room I bolt for the front door, it’s only as I open it that I think of Mittens.

“Shit,” I yell, running back to grab my dog.

I get to the door and call his name, “Mittens, Mittens. COME HERE.” I scream, The little Jack Russel hardly pays attention, he’s gnawing on the screaming Nigel’s leg. “MITTENS.” I run over, and yank him toward me, Mittens lets go of Nigel the same time that Nigel grabs me.

With the sort of strength only the angry are capable of Nigel yanks me toward his and throws Mittens so hard he makes a dent in the wall. My dog falls silent as Nigel pulls me underneath him.

“Never,” He yells, going all red in the face, “You’re never escaping me again Clara, I’m gonna hold you so tight you’ll forget about everyone but me.”

Then he starts choking me, both hands around my neck, at the same time his mouth moves on mine. Kissing me, gnawing at my lips. 

 

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