Deadly Devotion

Chapter Seven

Elizabeth’s POV

I was hungry and all I wanted was to go to the washroom. It felt like I hadn't seen day light in forever. The only thing I was able to do was stare at myself in the mirror, a mirror in which a boy could see me through but I couldn't see him. I knew Brad was there watching me pace back and forth as I had really nothing better to do.

"For someone who seems to have her thoughts a mess, you seem to know exactly what you are thinking about." He spoke, his voice smooth and sleek. I knew he was watching me, I felt his eyes through that damn mirror.

"How long do you sit there for? Is it really your job to stalk people on a daily bases?" I asked as I stopped my pacing and faced the mirror. I slowly walked up to it, looking myself in the eyes with confidence. I tapped my knuckles on the mirror.

"Why not come out and play?" I spoke, a smirk crossing my pale face as I knew he was looking at me. I walked away from the mirror, knowing he wouldn't, and probably wasn't allowed in my cage. My cage in which was for my protection.

I didn't hear anything after that. It's like my small Challenge shut him up. But after ten minutes of silence I heard the door to my room creek open. I didn't turn my head to see who was entering, for all I know it could be f*****g Brian.

"How do you stand the smell in here?" His smooth silk like voice asked me. My head perked up as my breathing slightly picked up. He's in here, the boy from behind the mirror is inside my cage.

"You- but- aren't you scared of me?" I asked as I slowly turned to look at him for the first time. He was probably the most beautiful male I've ever seen in my life. You could see he was fit underneath his clothes and he was tall. Taller then me for sure and his hair was a bit shaggy but styled. His jaw line was sharp, and his eyes were a beautiful green. I could honestly say my breath was taken from me by the sight of him, and he was assigned to me.

"Weren't you told that staring isn't polite?" He asked, a slight smile hidden at the corner of his mouth. I looked away, my eyes catching myself in the mirror and landing on how I looked. My appearance has changed on a daily basis while being in here. I'm pretty sure it's been a week by now and I've managed to lose a lot of weight and become even more pale then when I walked through the doors of this place about what? A month ago with police holding my arms back. At least then my hair looked nice, it wasn't a rats nest.

"I'm sure I was told that. But why would I listen?" I asked him, my eyes shifting from myself to him again. He smiled at me from across the room, staring at me with his eyes that glowed under the light. I gave him the only smile I could muster. While you are stuck like an animal in side of a cell it's hard to bring fourth a real smile.

He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms as he lead up against the wall. We were on either side of the room, just staring off into space. I would catch him looking at me every now and again, small glances. Nothing to long.

Eventually he walked over and looked at my arm. I’m assuming he noticed the bruises and small cuts. He shook his head, slowly making his shaggy hair move slightly. My breath caught in my throat.

“What exactly did they do to you here?” He asked softly, quite. It was like he was scared of the answer, scared to hear the horror.

“Well, when I first got here they send me to electroshock therapy. But instead of leather bounds, they used metal.” I spoke shrugging off the fact that my brain was slightly fried. Of course they most likely did that to clam me down. I don’t remember much of the first day that I had arrived. I just remember being thirsty and refused water.

“I wish that they would treat people better. You’re just a girl with a sickness.” He said as he let go of my hand and stood up. “I’m not really supposed to be in here, so I should leave. I’ll be behind the mirror though.” He said as he got up and walked towards the door. He gave a small nod and walked back out of my cage.

I couldn’t help but think to myself that he saw me as a sick girl and not a murderer. He saw me as a person, not a killer.

I felt my heart warm, my pale skin was on fire, and I felt a smile, a real smile, come across my lips. I felt like maybe, just maybe, there’d be others like him.