It's been a few days since I discovered where they're keeping Matt. I haven't found a way to break him out yet, but I will soon. I'm mainly focused on distracting these people from bothering him. His safety is my main priority.

Bubba and I lounged in his room awaiting Loretta to call us for dinner. Lately, she's been kind enough to make me something not containing traces of human meat for dinner. It's usually something simple like mashed potatoes or soup, but I'm grateful for anything I can get. She insists I take my meals at the table with them, much to Nubbins disapproval, and even though watching them eat sickens me, I can't really refuse her invitation, can I? For a cannibalistic psycho, she sure is a stickler for etiquette.

I rummaged through the pile of clothing Loretta gave me to find something nice and clean to change into before supper. She claims she wants us all to look our best for Sunday dinner. I haven't a clue why. I didn't even know it was Sunday, but I guess I'll have to take her word for it.

A baby blue dress in a floral pattern of tiny white flowers with delicate lace accents around the edges drew my attention. I could tell it must have been one of her favorites by how faded it was and the delicate stitches from previous tears hidden within the pleats.

"What do you think of this dress?" I asked, holding it against my body and smoothing out the wrinkles.

Bubba, who was flipping through the pages of my poetry book and admiring the drawings, stopped to give me a thumbs up before returning to his book. I can tell he cares so much...

"Oh, Good! You like it! Now if you don't mind, could you turn around for a minute so I can change?"

With a nod, he reluctantly closed the book and turned his back to me, covering his face with his hands. When I was sure he wasn't looking, I stripped off my t-shirt and jeans and tossed them in a pile on the floor.

"You're not peeking, are you?" I teased even though I knew he never would.

He grunted and shook his head from side to side. He's a good boy, but then again can you ever really trust a man? Besides, I can see him perfectly through a mirror on the wall and he hasn't moved an inch.

Slipping the dress over my head and pulling it down over my bust and hips, I buttoned the tiny white buttons that lined the chest. It fit me perfectly. Hugged where it needed to hug and flared out where it needed to flare out. Loretta was right; we must have been about the same size.

"There, I'm all done. You can look now. " I said, smoothing out the wrinkles and giving a little twirl.

He fixed his gaze on me and a strange expression overtook his face as his eyes scanned across every line and curve of my body. Why is he staring at me like that? Maybe the dress is too short? It hits me right at my knees, and I've definitely worn shorter dresses, but maybe it's still too unmodest for their taste.

"Whatcha think? " I asked attempting to break the awkward silence.

"Good...beautiful" he signed, never letting his eyes leave me.

"Oh, really, you're too kind," I said with a laugh and an exaggerated hair flip. "You don't look too bad yourself, Bubs."

He had slipped a black suit jacket over a salmon-colored button-down and changed his mask into the one with make-up slathered across the face. It's by far the creepiest mask I've seen him wear. I can only see his eyes and a maybe a tiny sliver of his lips through this one. Everything else is completely hidden beneath the second layer of skin.

"Very handsome" I signed by stroking my cheek in circular motions.

Bubba giggled under his breath and shied away. He gets embarrassed so easily. I don't know why, but it's kinda cute how flustered he gets when I compliment him. I took a seat in the chair by the vanity and shuffling towards me with the book in his clasp, he plopped down on the floor by my feet.

"You want me to read to you?" I asked taking the book from his outstretched hands.

He rested his head against my knee and played with the lace on the hem of my skirt as I flipped through the pages. Drawing back, he looked up at me and pointed to a faded scar that ran up my leg.

"Hurt?" he signed, touching the tip of index fingers together.

"Oh, I did that when I was a little girl." I raised my skirt up a little so he could see the scar that actually spanned most of my thigh. " I fell down the stairs and shattered the bone in my leg. I had to have surgery to repair it. "

He traced my blemish with his fingertips, slowly creeping further up my thigh. Um...this is a little awkward, but I know he's just curious about the scar, right? Nothing more. Get your mind out of the gutter, Tilly. I'm sure he doesn't even realize this kinda inappropriate. I squirmed in my seat and pulled my dress back down hiding the scar back beneath my skirt.

"How about you pick out a story for me to read, huh?" I asked trying to change the subject and snap him out of the weird trance he's in.

His breathing quickened and his tongue poked out from the slit of his mask wetting his lips. He shifted onto his knees and slid his hands up my thighs onto my hips, stretching his neck up to reach me.

Oh God! Is- is he trying to...kiss me? All because I showed him my legs? I turned my head and casually tried to nudge him away, but he saw this as an opportunity to press closer. One of his hands grabbed the back of the chair and the other the crook of my neck, pulling my head closer to his.

Time seemed to slow to a snail's pace and all I could see was the leathery mask dusted in a stark white powder with red lipstick smeared across the mouth coming right for me. My body started to shake. My heart was in my throat. nope, noPE, NOPE! Can't do this! Abort mission! I repeat, Abort mission!

"Get away from me!" I yelled, shoving his chest and trying my best to push his face away.

He jumped backward with his eyes frozen open in a look of shock. A stream of high-pitched wails wavered from his throat. I didn't mean to hurt him, but what did he expect? That I'd forget about Matt and gladly have an affair with the psycho who kidnapped us? Does he think I'm that stupid? His fingers tangled into the mess of curly black hair and beat at the side of his head hard enough to do some damage. His whimpers soon turn to growls. Oh God! He's mad. That's just great!

"Bubs?" I muttered softly attempting to calm him down and prevent him from harming himself and potentially me in the process.

Maybe he didn't hear me or maybe he's ignoring me, but he made no movement. Should I go to him? Hug it out and go back to what we were doing before?

I slowly crept towards the massive man who's currently growling like a rabid animal. My fingers barely brushed his jacket sleeve before he flipped out and decided to swipe everything off the top of his vanity sending it all crashing to the floor.

I leaped out of the way as he flew around the room, raving manically, flipping tables and leaving no stone unturned. He grabbed Loretta's glass jars off the shelves and chucked them at the wall, shattering them and releasing a foul vinegar odor mixed with God knows what else.

"Bubba stop!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Stop it!"

Of course, he didn't listen to me. He was in his own little world destroying everything in his path. I dove into the bed and huddled into the corner, burying my head in my knees awaiting the storm of his rage to cease. It's all too much: His screams, the sound of the room being torn apart... I want to cry, but I'm too afraid to make a peep.

Eventually, the hurricane died down and he was still. I didn't dare to move or look around. Instead, I listened for the sound his footsteps storming up the stairs and the door slamming closed behind him before I even thought of glancing up.

I waited for a while just staring mindlessly at the mess. The place was a complete wreck. You've really screwed up this time, Tilly. Muffled yells from upstairs filled my ears along with slamming doors and stomping feet. I'm sure they all know what's happened and are probably more than ready to kill me. If I would have just let him kiss me, a simple chaste kiss, and I'd still be in his good graces.

Wading through the sea of junk and carefully tiptoeing around the shards of glass I assessed the damages. I couldn't even see the floor through the clothing, furniture, and other random junk strowed about. Something caught my eye mixed in with all the crap: My book, now missing its front cover and dripping in whatever was in those jars.

I clutched it to my chest and retreated back to bed. My nose and throat burned as I tried my best to fight back the tears but ended up losing miserably. After what seemed like hours of bawling, my eyes dried and all that was left was anger. This isn't my fault. Just because I rejected his advances doesn't mean he had the right to pitch such a fit and scare me to half to death.

The basement door creaked open making my heart jump. I quickly laid down and shut my eyes pretending to sleep. Yeah, fake sleeping might be a little juvenile, but I really don't want to deal with him right now. Heavy footsteps thudded down the steps and paused at the landing. I cracked my eyes open just a hair and peak out from beneath my lashes to find Bubba glancing around the room probably at the massive mess he made. He drew further into the room using his foot to clear a path through the tide of objects littering the floor. That's when I noticed the blood-soaked clothes and chainsaw in his hands. A startled gasp escaped my lips at the sight. He jerked his head toward me. I snapped my eyes back closed praying he didn't realize I'm awake.

"Please don't start the chainsaw. Please don't start the chainsaw. Please don't start the chainsaw. " ran through my mind like a marathon.

The bed sunk down beside me and he slipped the book from my hands. Chancing it, I decided to peek again and found him sitting beside me examining the torn pages. A sigh slipped through his lips followed by "uh-oh" as more pages fell out. His eyes shift onto me as he tucks the book beneath his arm. He reached out to touch my face but stopped himself at the sight of the crimson stains on his hands. Wiping them on his shirt, he must decide against bothering me, as he made his way back upstairs leaving me all alone again.

So many questions invade my thoughts making me wish I could actually sleep. To drift off into a deep sleep would be a blessing at the moment. Then I wouldn't have to worry about what Bubba's done, why he's covered in blood and whose blood it might be.