After the encounter I had with the stranger named Rowen, Cliff spent a lot of time at home. He claimed it was that he had off from work, but I didn't believe him. It was clear that there was something on his mind, and I suspected it had something to do with Rowen. He was concerned about him returning, and if he was that worried, so was I.

It was the middle of the night several days later and I couldn't sleep. My mind was wide awake with thoughts that I couldn't quite connect or understand the relevance of. A part of my brain was conscious of my lack of sleep, while an entirely separate part was worrying over what I would do if I ever escaped. My pessimism told me I wouldn't escape, but my natural optimism told me I might one day, and if I did, what would I do? Go back to school? Try to put everything behind me? I didn't know if I could or even wanted to put this experience behind me; my family had been murdered after all. Honestly... I wasn't sure of anything and that knowledge sent me tossing and turning for many hours.

Cliff lay on the opposite side of the bed with his back to me. He hadn't slept much the last few days either, so it was a secret relief to finally have some peace. I said peace, but maybe it was more like privacy. His recent need to stay close to me left me with little time for myself.

I knew it was because of Rowen, and I wasn't in contrast to Cliff. Rowen's visit had unnerved me in a way that I couldn't explain, and I felt on edge. There was this fear that he would come back. As a result though, I found I was more eager to listen to Cliff if I thought it would keep me prepared for a second visit. I had started to notice how much I had let my guard down. I ate what Cliff gave me now, and I wasn't opposed to sleeping in the bed anymore so long as he stayed far enough away. Sometimes we would actually have conversations; just about random stuff, but it still happened. It was... frustrating, to say the least.

I slipped out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Closing the door, I flipped on the light and stared into the mirror. Despite being allowed to shower daily, my hair was a tangled mess and my clothes, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, looked like they could use a washing. I looked like a drug addict. But that wasn't what I noticed when I looked in the mirror. No, what I really saw was something in my own expression that was far more terrifying. So much so, I couldn't put to words if I tried. There was just something... lifeless about me.

Just then, there was a noise outside the bathroom and a voice called my name. "Zane?"

I sighed and opened the bathroom door. Cliff was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "I'm right here," I said. "Go back to sleep."

He stared at me with glazed eyes, unable to see me well from the shine of the bathroom lights. "What are you doing?" he asked, sleep evident in his voice.

"What do you usually do in a bathroom?" I asked. It was worded like a joke, but I wasn't really trying to be funny.

Still, Cliff chuckled wearily. "Sorry. I'm just a little on edge lately, I guess."

I dropped my eyes. "I noticed."

He stretched and looked at me expectantly. Though it should have bothered to have to return just because he looked at me that way, I obediently turned the light out and walked back to the bed. Sitting with my back against the headboard, I closed my eyes.

As I breathed out in content, willing myself to grow drowsy, I felt moved at my side. Immediately, I opened my eyes to glared at him, and he stopped whatever advances he had been making to frown sheepishly. I turned away from him to curl up on the far side of the bed. I still didn't want him to touch me, and he knew that.

Listening closely, I heard him get up, and the door to the bedroom opened and shut softly. Knowing he was gone, I turned and stared at the door. I kept waiting for the day when he'd had enough of waiting for my permission and took what he wanted just like the first time. But that day had yet to come and I was beginning to wonder if it would. Like my slowly lessening malice towards him, his consideration for me was frustrating. How was I supposed to hate him when he treated me so gently?

*******

I woke up later than usual that day; probably from my late night. A glance at the clock told me it was almost noon. I peeked out the window hopefully, but to my great disappointment, I saw his car was still in the drive which meant he was taking another day off from work.

I sighed and went back to the bed, plopping down on my stomach. I was about to grabbed the remote and finally see what this TV he was always recommending was all about when the bedroom door opened and Cliff walked in with two plates of pancakes. I sat up as he walked towards.

He handed one of the plates to me before I could tell him I wasn't hungry and as soon as the warm plate was in my hands, I felt my palms defrost from the morning chill. I inhaled deeply. They smelled like heaven. They had syrup and whipped cream on top with just a single sugared strawberry for decoration. I had to swallow to keep from drooling.

I looked from him to the pancakes, wondering if there was a catch to this delightful yet suspicious meal. "What's this for?" I asked.

"You," he said. He handed me a fork.

After watching him dig into his own plate of food, I hesitantly cut into the soft bread. I picked up a piece that was dripping with syrup and put it in my mouth. I practically melted on the spot, they were so good.

I couldn't resist chewing as slowing as I could to savor the taste, and Cliff grinned when he saw I was enjoying his cooking. We ate in silence, but for once, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It was one of those silences where no words are needed because the contentedness can already be felt in the atmosphere alone.

When I was finished with my food, I put my plate down on the bed. "Thanks," I said.

"So, you liked them?" he asked, as if he wasn't sure I was being serious. I nodded and his face broke into a grin. "I can't tell you how long it's been since I've made pancakes. I wasn't sure if they would come out right or not."

I used my fork to play with the remaining syrup on my plate. "They tasted pretty good to me," I mumbled.

He thanked me for the compliment and took our plates to the kitchen. When he returned, I had flipped on the TV and was watching some movie about a retired government agent. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Cliff sit down at his desk and open his laptop. He looked like he was going to do some work, so I turned back to the TV and rested my head in my hands. The day passed pretty much like that. Him at the computer, me on the bed. At one point he left to go get a pencil and some paper, but he returned soon after to settle back into work.

The light outside grew dimmer and dimmer until the room was completely dark except for the TV and the desk lamp Cliff had turned on a few hours prior. After yawning for the third time, I glanced at the clock; it was almost 8 o'clock. Switching off the TV, I headed for the bathroom and shut the door. As I did my business, I heard Cliff's phone ring and he let the bedroom to answer it. When he returned, there was a shuffling from the other side of the door and then he knocked. "Hey, Zane?"

I was a bit annoyed by the fact that he was bugging me now of all times, but I suppressed a sigh, "Yeah, what?" I said.

"I have to go out," Cliff said. "I'll be back in a few hours hopefully, but don't wait up for me if I stay out later than planned, okay?"

Part of me wanted to ask where he was going at such a late hour, but I didn't. I was sure I could make a fairly accurate guess. "Okay," I said.

I heard him walk away, and the door to the bedroom closed with a click. I finished using the restroom and reentered the bedroom. Exhausted, I collapsed on the bed and buried my face in a pillow. This was usually my opportunity to cry myself to sleep, but I decided I had had enough of crying. I had cried enough to last me a lifetime. It was time I got over it and pulled myself together.

Rolling over to sit up, I looked down at my cuffed ankle. I didn't know if I could get it off, but I could try. I grabbed a bottle of soap from the shower and sat down on the floor of the bathroom. I was about to squeeze some soap onto my ankle in an attempt to slide free when I heard the sound of the front door opening.

Thinking Cliff was returning for something he forgot, I hurried to return the bottle back where it belonged. However, before I could race back to the bed to avoid suspicion, I head the bedroom door swing open behind me with a bang. 

I turned quickly, hoping my guilt didn't show on my face. However, whatever expression I was making soon vanished when the intruder stepped into the light from the bathroom. A shiver of fear crept up my spine at the sight of them grinning. "Hello, Zane."

It wasn't Cliff.

*******

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