Keeping Isabelle
Two
"Please don't call the police," I begged Harry, reaching for the phone in his hand. "I– they could… please don't call the police.
"Isabelle, darling, I need to, so I can get you back home safe and have the people who had kidnapped you in prison. Isn't that what you would like?" I shook my head.
"Harry, there isn't a home to go back to, really," I said, putting the phone back the phone on the stand. "I never was old enough to really know my parent– they'd be like strangers. And I can't live with more unknown people, Harry."
He nodded, his eyes softening even more. I could tell he was pitying me.
"Please do not look at me as if I am a six year old, Harry. I don't like it," I said, crossing my arms uncomfortably and looking away.
"Are you hungry?" He asked, changing the subject. "You must be, you've been starved I presume."
"Sometimes," I say under my breath as Harry walks away. I hear him yell that I could go sit in the living room and watch the telivision– something I've not done since I was free.
Harry had cooked something I've never eaten before. But then again, I mostly ate something that looked like oatmeal and tasted like vomit— if I was lucky.
"What can't you do?" I asked, taking another bite of stuffed chicken in. Harry laughed, shrugging, and hummed a tune in his head. He began to rap his fingers on the table.
When he caught me staring moments later, his face flushed.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't apologize! That was wonderful! You drum, eh?" I asked amazed. Harry hasn't let me in on much of his past in the last few hours I've spent with him. I just met him today, though, so…
Harry shrugged.
"What's your story, Harry?" I blurted.
@not_any_maryjane
Haha, thanks.
12/12/14