Two months have passed, and I've given up. Elijah has won. It was inevitable, I suppose. I have nothing left to give.

Every morning I wake before him, go downstairs and cook breakfast,not before checking the looks on the doors and windows of course, but they're always locked. It's the monotony that I am most frightened of. Not Elijah's rage nor his slaps. It's the fear that this is all my life now.

A small mercy I suppose is that he still hasn't touched me, I still disgust him. Meaning that for two nights a week I get to be alone for a bit more time, as Elijah goes out to sate his needs in any way possible.

My alarm clock goes off, breaking me from my thoughts and yelling at me to leave the bed before it wakes Elijah up too. He's been making me sleep in bed with him, whenever he's in the house I have to be in his line of sight. When he's out, I'm chained up.

I roll out of bed but as soon as my feet hit the floor I feel this wave of nausea rolling through me. Retching and gagging, I dash into the en-suite and empty the limited quantity of my stomach into the toilet. Elijah rarely lets me eat, and when he does it's always some diet food or program. I'm permanently starving.

The nausea passes after a few more bursts of retching, Elijah still hasn't moved meaning I have time to make his breakfast. Trembling and shaking from the shock of being sick, I wash my hands and clean my teeth before creeping down the hall and down the stairs.

Standing before the stove, I break two eggs into the frying pan for fried eggs. The second the smell hits my nose I gag again fly over to the sink. Coughing up bile.

I miss the sound of footsteps on the stairs as I'm too busy scrubbing away the bile from the sink. Then a presence is behind me and I freeze.

"Did you eat something Ellie? Break my orders?" I shake my head frantically as I turn and look at him, his fist grips at my throat to stop me and I whimper.

"I didn't I swear!" I'm desperate now, the rage in his eyes is there, they are bloodshot with the remnants of alcohol. He's furious at the thought of me disobeying me.

"Then why were you throwing up? Lying bitch." He slaps me hard and I stumble against the back of the counter at its force, my head tips back and I catch the corner of a cupboard.

Pain blossoms behind my eyes as bright lights dance and tease my vision, until they abruptly stop and the world goes dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I awaken on the floor, chained to the radiator in the bathroom. My head is splitting as I try to lift it. The nausea returns as I move, so I give up and lay my head on the cold, tiled floor.

My free arm winds around my churning stomach, it's right against the leggings Elijah forces me to wear, not caring if they're too small for me. He merely sneered and told me to fit into them. Of anything, since being with Elijah I haven't lost weight, my stomach almost looks bigger.

There's a ringing in my ears, scratchy and all consuming. I'm never leaving here. I'm never going to get to see Derek again. Never feel his arms around me, nor his gentle kisses on my lips. Is he even looking for me? Is he glad I'm gone?

Sobs fill the small echoing room and it takes me a few seconds to realise these are my tears. I curl up into a ball on the floor, long gone where my attempts to escape the handcuffs, and try to fall asleep until I'm free again.

Someone was kind to me today, as sleep came easier to me than normal. Multiple footsteps race through the house but I don't move, if Elijah has bought around friends he won't untie me until they leave. At least my arm has gone dead now, so the burning discomfort has lessened.

The footsteps don't halt, I can hear raised voices, familiar voices calling my name. I sit up in jolting surprise and tug against my handcuffs.

"I'm here! I'm here!" I scream out, tears choking me up in surprise that they are here, here for me. I realise for a cruel moment that this could be my distressed imagination playing games with me, and I almost fall quiet.

"Elle?" It's his voice, my Derek's voice. I can hear his large strides dashing across the hallway towards the closed, locked bathroom door.

His thundering footsteps don't slow down as he approaches the door and within a second splinters of wood as shattering to the floor. He didn't even try the door to see if it was unlocked...

Gasping, I look up at the doorway and see him standing there before me. Looking down at me with his eyes wide. I reach my free arm up for him, wanting to hold him, to check he's really there.

Slowly, Derek kneels to the floor and strokes my tattered hair from my face, it's stuck to my skin in sweat and tears. Before he takes me in his arms, for the were widening ready for me, his eyes darken as he notices the handcuff digging into my skin.

He grips the metal chain in his fist and rips it from the radiator, accidentally taking the pipes of the radiator with him. I giggle lightly at him managing to rip apart the thing I've been working on for months. Derek startles in surprise at the sound of my laughter and he turns back to me. He pulls me onto his lap and cradles me close.

The other handcuff is still on my wrist, biting at my skin. I whimper as Derek touches the sensitive skin.

"I know little one, I know. Let me just take this off and we can get out of here ok?"

I nod eagerly and press my face into his neck, breathing in the familiar smell of him. There's a snapping sound and I look down to see my wrist free, the metal lying in pieces on the floor.

Derek swoops me into his arms as he stands and I wrap my arms around his neck. But it's not enough contact. I spin around so I'm clinging to the front of Derek, my legs around his waist his arms around me.

I must look silly, like a baby koala or something, but I don't care. It's worth it for the feeling of being completely in Derek's arms.

I'm home.