and tears, of everything that she had hated. Her foot brushed the ground slowly, the door knob cold and hot at the same time in her hand. When it landed, it creaked. Groaned. Made it seem as if the whole house were coming alive, ready to torment her.
Her stomach turned and she let go of the door knob. In her whole life, nothing had ever been so terrifying as this was now. It was cold. Like an icebox.
Empty.
When she stayed at the entrance for several minutes, ears ringing because of the silence, she convinced herself that Chris was gone and he wasn’t going to pop out like some sort of horror movie character. Feeling a numbness settle in her chest as her surroundings slapped her in the face with their familiarity, Jamie debated on whether leaving the door closed, or opened.
Leaving it open would mean a quicker escape, although she would have to run to get away from him anyways. She bit her lip, staring at the freedom that was so close to her. She wasn’t the track star she used to be, and what if she closed the door and he thought the house was empty, and she had time to escape?
Then again, what if she didn’t notice he even came home?
Was he even gone, in the first place?
Her head hurt enough that she had to force herself to stop thinking and start moving. The lights were off -- but they normally were. No use to waste energy during the day when they had natural light streaming in from outside. All of the doors were closed, and as she moved farther into the house and closer to their bedroom, Jamie started to believe that he wasn’t there at all.
Nothing was hanging off of the walls. No pictures, no designs or mirrors. It was so bare, like a white prison.
Her stomach turned, ready to vomit.
All she wanted to do was go back to the gas station, find Talon, and crawl into his arms. Of course, though, he would be too busy and not even talk to her. She would wake up the next morning with him already out of the bed, and she would realize that they hadn’t even said anything to each other.
When was the last time they had talked? A week ago?
The thoughts about Talon served as a good distraction till she got to the bedroom. Inside, she would either find Chris on the bed, or the room empty and waiting for her to raid. Technically, she wasn’t stealing or even breaking and entering. Her bank account, her own money, had paid for everything in the house. The only problem she had with taking her clothing was that it would be a constant reminder of her life in this house until she got new ones.
Just like it had been when she had been opening the door to the house, the knob was like burning ice under her palm. With an image of Talon imprinted in her mind, she pushed open the door. At least if she was forced to stay, if he hurt her, she would be able to think of Talon and remember him --
No one was on the bed.
No one was standing in front of the closet.
No one was in the pool that sat on the other side of large glass windows.
It was so quiet that her ears rang even more than before. Long white sheets brushed against the ground, the air current lifting them slowly and gracefully. She stared at them, believing that Chris would jump out and attack her. Was that hysteria she felt creeping down her back? Or just the trickle of sweat produced by the fear that was tunneling through her body?
Probably both.
She pictured Talon’s hands on her shoulders, around her waist, threading into her hair. God, she wished he were here right now. Then she wouldn’t be so fucking scared, like she was about to pee her pants. If Chris came up to her with his fist raised, Talon would snap it in half. And she wouldn’t even care.
A bitter laugh rose. Yeah, right. If anything, she would be the one trying to break his arm. Jamie knew that with Talon near her, nothing would ever harm her.
It was midday. The snow was all but off of the ground. That scene from the Human Centipede popped into her brain, the one at the very end when the evil scientist and the cops are in the pool room. Pool lights had reflected