21
698 Words
I don't eat. I sit, and wait. He's watching. He's always watching. He will come out here and tell me the truth. The whole truth.
Sure enough, after I don't touch the food, he comes out of the shadows, into the room with a sigh.
"So stubborn," he mutters.
I look down. "Why?" I ask softly.
"I told you—"
"The whole truth this time."
He sighs deeply. "Your ex-boyfriend And best friend are dead—"
"Because I killed them—"
He shakes his head. "The case is solid. They won't send you to prison. They'll execute you."
"So what?" I smirk.
He looks at me. I look at him. His messy hair intrudes on his face, but his mismatched eyes, and the scar running down one is clear to see.
They dart away from me.
"I'm not going to stand and watch you commit suicide—"
"It's not suicide. It's taking responsibility for my actions!" I stand. "Something you know nothing about!"
He gives me his back. "I told you. None of this was your fault. You were not in control—"
"Why do you keep saying that?!"
I pause. Then I understand.
"Do you think my mind is that fragile," I whisper.
He swallows. "I think if you keep telling a person the same thing over and over, they will eventually believe it."
I should've guessed. Should've known, when he said he was too handsome. He never calls himself handsome. In fact, he rarely compliments himself.
"I cannot be molded! You can't take my guilt away—"
"I can damn well try!" He yells, turning around, huffing. "It eats at you. You feel empty, I can see in your eyes. Because of things..."
"The things I've done—"
"The things I've made you do." His eyes burn with determination.
"If you want me to feel better; let me turn myself in—"
"Don't you see how flawed that is? And what will you tell you? That your name is Maureen and you killed your friend and boyfriend? But you can't stop there, because that's not true."
I shake. "Don't..."
"You're name's not Maureen. You are not a us citizen. You've been used to kill far more than two people. Two people who don't really matter."
"Stop..."
"These are the truths you will have to tell them. Before they kill you. You have not survived this long for me to just let someone come and kill you!"
"That's...that's not—"
"Face it: you've always been a puppet to someone. Your mother. The Queen. Your friend. Me. They make you do these things, because they know that you love them."
"They didn't make me do anything!"
He smiles sadly. "If you tell a boy he is ugly for ten years, eventually what he will see in the mirror is ugly. And almost nothing will change is mind."
I look up with a soft gasp. "And you think...if you keep telling I'm not a murderer because someelse made me do it, I'll believe it?"
"I know so," he grins. "I know it from experience. Do you know what's it called?"
I say nothing as he come toward me. "It's called the illusory truth effect. If you keep saying it, eventually, it will seem like the truth. So I'm going to keep telling you, that you are not at fault for anything you've done."
"And when you truly believe it...I will set you free again."
"Why? Why not keep me here no matter what I believe? You want to. I can see it."
He paused, looking back at me. "Probably the sane reason I let you go the first time. Because one of things I was told again, and again, was I deserve to be alone."
He gives me his back, walking away. "And I believe that."
• • •
So we've gotten some context on why he's doing g what he's doing. Do you understand what's happening?
Do you think he's telling the truth about his motives?
Do you hate him, or love him right now.
Are you curious as to Maureen's background.
Also, they are referring to the opening scene when they talk about the friend and boyfriend who were killed.
- Writer
