The Party

I walked into the kitchen, grabbed the box of cereal and a bowl, and poured myself a bowl of cereal. It was a normal day just like any other, I had to attend my niece’s sixth birthday party today at noon, and I still hadn’t gone to the store to get her a present, what an awful aunt I was. I picked up the remote and turned on the TV, the news was on, it was saying something about a fugitive that was wanted, they didn’t have a picture of him, but they had a sketch of what they thought he looked like and a voice recording of him saying something, but I wasn’t interested, so I changed the channel. Nothing was on, but I had already finished my bowl of cereal. I grabbed my car keys and headed for the store.

I walked into the store after picking up one of the small baskets and walked right away to the toy aisle, after all I’m sure she wouldn’t like food, or toiletries. It was pretty empty inside the store, most likely due to the fact that it was eight in the morning. I passed a man with brown hair, who was trying to decide between white and wheat bread. On the toy aisle there wasn’t much to chose from, so knowing how much my niece loves the outdoors, and jumping all over the place, I reached for a jump rope and stuck it in my basket, then got in line at the cash register. The man with the bread was in front of me, this time trying to pick gum, seeing me approach the cash register he signaled me to go ahead noticing that I only had one item, although he seemed confused as to why a 26 year old would be buying a jump rope so I clarified that it was for my niece’s party and told him that he should get the mint gum, “It just tastes better,” I exclaimed. He laughed at that as I paid for my jump rope and dismissed the offer for a bag, shoving the rope into my purse. I then started to trudge to my car unsure of what I would do for the next couple hours, but was stopped by the man with the bread. He offered me a piece of gum, since I had helped him pick it out and walked me to my car. As I got out my keys he said something that sounded vaguely familiar, I felt like I had heard that voice before. I gave him a closer glance, and noticed that his features seemed to remind me of something but I couldn’t figure out what. I asked him if he had been on TV or something but his response was shock. “Why would I ever be on TV?” he asked me. But then it clicked, I had seen him on TV, this morning on the channel 5 news, he was the fugitive. I accidently gave him a scarred glance and hastily reached for my phone, but before I get to it he covered my mouth with his hand and grabbed my keys unlocked the car and shoved me in, struggling to try to escape I accidentally hit my head, with a good amount of force, on the top of the car and knocked myself out cold.

I awoke in the middle of a messy hotel room, a bit disoriented. He was sitting in a chair reading, when he heard me stir he got up and handed me a full glass of water. “Sorry about your party,” he said, “I know you love your niece.”

“You kidnapped me.” I blurted out.

“No, well I didn’t mean to. It’s just, I can’t go back there, and I knew what you were thinking about doing. Besides technically you knocked yourself out.” He sighed. “I wasn’t going to take you, I was just going to leave you locked inside your car tied up, stuck there until someone would see you, but then you had to go and get unconscious, and I had to make sure you were okay.” He gave me a sheepish smile. “You are beautiful.” I looked at him confused, I thought that he was supposed to be the bad guy; he was running from the law. “I feel so rude,” he added. “If I had known that there was going to be a guest here I would have tidied up.”

I quickly stood up, I had had enough of this nonsense, I had been kidnapped, and I had to get out. I made a run for the door, but he was faster. He caught me before I could even reach the handle, struggling to break his embrace; he smiled, and said, “You’re a feisty one aren’t you?” I managed to break free of one arm just to get it caught again, realizing that it was useless I stopped struggling and asked him why he wanted me, and why he wouldn’t let me go now.

“You interest me.” He said simply.

The next few days went by in this similar manor, although he treated me like a queen; I wasn’t touched, unless I tried to escape and I was able to do pretty much anything, one time he even went out and bought me a book for me to read. But he could tell that I was getting anxious, and that any chance I would get to call for help I would take it, and I knew this disappointed him greatly, but I didn’t care, he was a cold blooded murderer and I was his next victim.

Every time he saw me something in his face seemed to lighten up and he would attempt to make me like him, it finally got to the point that it drove him crazy and instead he walked over to me and commanded me to kiss him, but I refused. And frustrated he asked me why I hated him. “Because you are a murderer,” I enunciated every syllable.

He sighed then turned away, “That’s always going to be the problem isn’t it?” He was talking more to himself then to me. “You’re never going to love me,” he turned back to me, “not like I love you.” I could see his eyes start to glaze over, small beads of tears gathering at the corners, and I almost felt something for him. But, I quickly shoved it away reminding myself that he killed someone. He walked to me, “Oh, how I love you, I need you to know that.” Then he walked to the table where my purse sat and grabbed the jump rope, tied it to a sturdy bar hanging from the ceiling. He confronted me again, this time forcing me to kiss him then said “Goodbye, my love.” He walked over to the rope and hung himself. Yet all I did was stand there, astounded at what had just happened. Everything after that was a blur, I guess I had called the cops and they came and rescued me, brought me back to my family and took care of the refugee. I was never the same, and I never did get to give my niece her birthday present.