Page 12 of Caught in the Middle

He panted heavily, glaring at her. His blue eyes glistened even brighter with rage. He shook his head, and walked towards the kitchen doorway.

'You know, maybe I should just leave you, let Joey have you. Maybe you're not worth it.'

He slammed the door behind him, making the drying rack next to the sink rattle in fear.

Lucy sat at the table, staring at the mess of food against the wall for what felt like ages. She was rooted to the spot, trying to get her head around what just happened. Sure, she thought there might be a possibility that he would poison her, but the majority of her... well, she felt like she was beginning to trust him.

Maybe it was because he gave her the gun, or maybe it was because of his mild mannerisms.

But now... watching how he just went from zero to one hundred in half a second, well that really freaked her out. He was a volatile man, who couldn't control his anger. If she was to stick around, what would happen to her?

She strained to listen for any sign of movement on the other side of the kitchen door, but she couldn't hear anything. She was very, very nervous, her brain raced with a million thoughts a minute. What if he came bursting back in with a knife, or a gun? She looked down at the one of the table she had been subconsciously clutching. Sure, she had a gun, but she was pretty certain he knew how to use one, and Lucy most definitely did not.

Enough was enough.

Oliver was a ticking time bomb, and she had to get away from him.

It was now or never.

She timidly stood up, trying not to make the chair scrape against the floor, desperately looking for an answer.

The door was too risky, she had no idea where Oliver was, and he may be on the other side, waiting for her to make a move.

She glanced at the window, sitting above the sink. Her heart leaped slightly as she crept over to it. Even though it was now pitch black outside, she could see that it lead out to the main communal balcony. If she could just somehow climb through it, she could escape.

She pushed the cracked frame as quietly as she could, but it didn't budge. Covered in cobwebs and flaking paint, she wondered when the last time it was opened, and doubted that it was within the last decade.

Listening out for the slightest movement, she leaned across the dirty dishes and shove it a little harder this time. It groaned under the pressure, and Lucy's heart leaped a little further.

If she could just crack it open and jump out, she could run until she found someone half normal who could help her.

With one final shove, the window reluctantly opened, but not without the loudest groan.

Lucy stopped breathing, listening so intently for any movement in the other room.

She felt sick, but knew this was her only chance.

With a trembling hand, she forced the window open to as wide as it would go, and lifted her knee up onto the corner of the sink.

Once she got one foot out, she knew she was going to make it. She could see her mother, running into her arms, having to explain how some crazy man took her to a shitty little council estate, and how she clambered out of the window to get home.

At least she'd have a good excuse as to why she didn't write a single thing on her exam.

She shifted her body so that her other knee was balancing on the sink now, as she tried to stretch over to slide her full body out of the window with as little noise as possible.

She cursed going through three years of university without ever joining a sports team - or even going to the gym once or twice, maybe then she'd be a little bit more agile, and this wouldn't be so goddamn hard.

She was on the home run. Her top half of her body was hanging out in the chilly night air, when she heard the most deafening, frightening CLANG.

She had kicked over the colander Oliver had used to strain the pasta.

The sound was still resonating in her ears, when she felt a strong grip on her ankle, and everything went black.

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