My throat was dry, too dry.

Stinging pain ripped at my throat as I struggled to swallow, my tongue darting out to dampen my cracked lips. A heavy fog had settled on me, completely dislodging all my coherent thoughts as I struggled to piece my scattered thoughts together.

I immediately jolted awake at the dreadful image of my bleeding mother, the memory from the accident twisting my gut. The sudden movement had me groaning as an unbearable pain pierced through my pounding head. My muscles screamed in agony with even the slightest movement while my lungs burnt in protest.

My heavy eyelids blinked slowly as I tried to clear my vision, bland brick walls meeting my line of sight. A dull yellow glow from the overhead bulb bathed the room as my sluggish brain took in my surrounding. The space was otherwise empty except for the washing machine pushed up against the wall and the stiff bed I was currently lying on.

Even in my disoriented state warning bell rang in my ears, I remembered something wet being placed over my face. The acid smell had suffocated my lungs, I had been drugged. My eyes frantically searched for an exit, a rusty stair case disappearing behind a wall proving to be my only escape.

I tried dragging my battered body off the bed, wincing when the fabric of my tank top brushed against my burning abdomen. I clamped my teeth on my bottom lip as I slowly lifted the hem of my top, examining the bruised skin under it. Pinching the fabric away from my skin, I continued with my climb down the bed with much difficulty.

My breath hitched at the clicking of a lock, heavy footsteps causing the old wooden steps to creak loudly in protest. My blood ran cold as my chest squeezed in fear, I watched frozen as polished leather boots descended the stairs one at a time.

I wasn't even aware I was holding my breath, too terrified to make even the slightest movement. My heart was racing uncontrollably as the shadowy figure moved closer to the light. He looked different, a complete contrast from the calm put together guy I had regretfully dated.

"X- Xander?" I whimpered while digging my back into the mattress.

If he didn't frequent my nightmares as much as he did I might have not recognised him completely. He looked unhealthily thin, the beer stained shirt hanging off of him exposing his protruding collarbone. His check bones stuck out of his face unattractively, an overgrown beard covering most of his checks as his once cropped hair brushed the tip of his shoulders.

A shudder ran through my spine as his vacant eyes met mine. The sunken brown orbs swam in a sea of translucent red, an uncharacteristic hollowness in them. I was more then terrified, the Xander from two years ago at least looked human. This Xander looked dead inside, like he wouldn't hesitate to kill me.

"You've been out of it for awhile" his said casually like he didn't drug me and proceed to lock me up in his basement.

A smile stretched on his lips as he rested his palm against my cheek, caressing it lovingly. My skin crawled in disgust at the contact as I struggled not to jerk away from him, not wanting to set him off. I screwed my eyes shut as yet another whimper rose to my mouth.

"Why are you crying?! I don't like it when you cry!" He said while roughly gripping my chin, wiping the lone tear that had slid past my eyes. I was so confused at the drastic change of his motives with me. Before, he wanted me dead. He wanted to make me pay and now he was loving, well as loving his twisted brain could get.

Xander studied me for a moment, dropping his arm to his side before pacing the room. He clenched and unclenched his fists as his face twisted in displeasure, my obvious rejection not seating well with him.

"I thought you might want to take a shower" he seamed to have gotten a hold of his rage, a smile easily replaced his frown.

I remained silent as my grip on the bed tightened. Xander must have not liked my silence because his smile began to flatter, his eyes squinting in anger. I quickly nodded my head, knowing not to test him for the second time.

"You can use the upstairs bathroom, but you have to promise not to leave me" his voice was soft, completely concealing the undertone threat his words held. I smartly nodded, digging my back further into the matters to put some distance between us

"I- I won't" I stammered.

Was I really going to get naked in the same house as a guy who had once tried to rape me? I immediately extinguished the thought. I needed to find a way out of this situation and if the only way he would let me out of the basement is to take a shower, I had to.

"Come on" he said, outstretching a hand towards me.

I swallowed harshly, urging my reluctant hand to accept his. The touch of his skin against mine made me want to jerk my hand away but I didn't. I had a clue of how vicious he could be and with how unsettling his mood change had become I rather not annoy him.

The old stairs led to a dim lit kitchen, thick curtains concealing the windows. My nerves grew the further we walked as I took in every inch of the house. He led me past a living room, heaps of dust discolouring the furniture inside it. My steps momentarily flattered as my eyes fixated on a picture frame on the coffee table. A young Xander stood beside a beautiful brown haired girl, she was grinning widely at the camera while Xander's eyes transfixed on her, a distant smile resting on his lips.

It was her, the girl that he loved.

"Do you remember that?" His eyes glazed over as if to reminisce the exact moment "we were so happy" he sighed, squeezing my hand.

Why would I remember that? I wasn't there, I didn't even know him then. My head ached at amount of thinking I was doing, my thoughts pulling me at every direction. I was confused at his actions. Wasn't he supposed to be blaming her death on me? Not smiling at me and showing me affection.

He hated me, right? Then why was he acting like he didn't.

He tugged my hand forward, leading me towards a short hallway. My confusion was quickly replaced by a deep rooted fear with every door we walked by, the vile things he was capable of ringing through my mind.

"There is a clean towel and a change of clothes for you inside" he informed me as he finally let go of my hand, opening the white door to a quaint bathroom.

Relief washed over me as I wiped my palm on the back of my jeans, the roughness of his skin still hanging off mine. With a brief nod he ushered me into the bathroom, the clicking of a lock reminding me that I was a prisoner.

I frantically searched for an exit, going as far as to tug on the locked door in desperation. I forced down the frustrated scream that was lodged in my chest as I slid to the cold floor, cradling my head between my knees. Silent tears rolled down my warm skin at the reality of my situation. I was at Xander's mercy once again.

The thought of my helpless mother bleeding inside a car at a desolate road had my stomach twisting in knots. I had no way of knowing exactly how long I had been unconscious and I could only hope that someone had come to her rescue.

It had been my fault again. It had to be. Xander must have been driving the black car that had caused the accident. Come to think of it, it wasn't really an accident. He had probably planned it in order to kidnap me. The realisation only increased the overflowing amount of guilt I already felt.

Sighing in defeat I rose to an upright position, eyeing the clothes piled up beside the sink. Stripping proved to be difficult task, every muscle in my body groaning in agony. I gently soaped my bruised body, biting my tongue to containing the pain filled wince that claimed up my throat. In the confines of the four walls I let the tears flow, the heavy water from the shower washing them away. I was angry that I was in the situation and that once again I had completely no control over it.

The throbbing in my head had turned into a full blown headache by the time I turned off the shower, causing a loud ringing in ears. I patted myself dry before quickly slipping on the clothes he had supplied, paranoid that he might unlock the door before I was adequately dressed. The large shirt and sweatpants itched at my aching skin as I walked towards the door, knowing on it softly to indicate that I was done.

I heard the key turn and the clicking of a lock before the door opened, a new wave of fear wrecking my body. Xander's dreadful eyes ran over the expanse of my clothed body, a satisfied look crossing over them as he stretched his hand to me once again.