Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Stockholm Syndrome
“Paulina.” The girl had been deep in thought. Before Frank had brought her back to reality, she’d been staring absently at the seat across from here, somewhere in the direction of the man’s knee. He waved a hand in front of her face slowly, peering into her eyes as they lost their glazed appearance and returned to the present. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” Paulina murmured, shaking her head slightly. That was a lie. She’d actually been thinking about something that she hadn’t allowed herself to since her first day of abduction: her parents. She’d tried to stop thinking about them almost immediately after her arrival; the thought of how they must have felt did nothing but torture Paulina, making tears prick the backs of her eyes and the breath catch in her throat.
“Are you frightened of flying?” Frank pressed, gesturing out the window of the private plane they were flying in. It was very nice, too. Large, but Paulina and Frank were the only occupants. There wasn’t even a pilot; Frank had explained some special GPS feature to Paulina, but she’d only nodded and taken her seat, already lost in thought. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt the need to think about her parents. It still made her sad; it still hurt. But…Paulina couldn’t help but wonder: did they still think about her? It had only been a few months…but then again, how long did it take before a person was declared legally dead? Had the police told them it was most probable that Paulina had been killed? Did they have a suspect? Paulina wondered if Frank, Bob, Gerard, Ray, or Mikey were even in the running for suspects. Sure, anyone that met Gerard for a second would assume with relative certainty that he was capable of kidnap, but that meant nothing if there was no evidence to even lead the police to any of the men keeping Paulina…
“No,” Paulina murmured, shaking her head again a few times. She had never flown before, actually, and might have been frightened if she hadn’t been so absorbed in her own mind.
“Then what is it? You’ve been staring at my knees for almost an hour now. I know you’re thinking of something.” Frank strummed his fingers on his thigh thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow to the girl seated across from him.
“It’s just…” Paulina wasn’t certain she wanted to tell Frank. To tell him what was bothering her was like handing a loaded pistol to her opponent in war: the weapon and the ammunition. Then again, this particular opponent also happened to have a full artillery on his side regardless, so it wasn’t like it really mattered. “Just thinking about my parents.”
“What about them?” Frank leaned forward, interested. Paulina had known this would be a bad idea, but it was too late.
“Just…wondering if they still think about me.” Paulina looked away, embarrassed. What business was it of Frank’s what she was thinking about? As far as she knew, her thoughts were still her own. But no, those, too, seemed to be escaping her grasp.
“Your only daughter being kidnapped isn’t something you just forget about in a few months.” Frank waved his hand dismissively. It hurt Paulina to see her parents be waved away like a pesky fly. She didn’t like this.
“I guess,” she murmured. “But I just wonder sometimes. Like, do they--” Paulina stopped short, realizing how close she’d come to asking a question.
Frank sighed. “Paulina,” he said, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. “I think I’m going to do you a favor. For now, only while we’re on this plane, up in the air, you are allowed to ask questions. Sound good?” Paulina nodded, giving the man opposite her a suspicious look. Was he messing with her? Fucking with her head? Was there a particular question he wanted her to ask? She ran her hand through her hair absent-mindedly, noting the new length, or lack thereof.
“Why did you cut my hair?” she finally asked.
Frank laughed, a genuine smile gracing his features for just a second before he regained composure. “For some reason, that question doesn’t surprise me.” Frank’s tone seemed to be almost…fond.
“Well?” Paulina’s stomach seemed to drop, until she remembered that she was permitted to ask questions.
“Well…” Frank began, leaning back in his chair thoughtfully, folding his hands in his lap and looking off into space. “Now that I’ve shaved all your hair off, what do you have left that I haven’t taken from you?”
Paulina thought about this. He was probably right. But still… “My life,” she answered, looking at him. They hadn’t managed to kill her…yet. If they even planned on killing her. Whatever they planned on doing.
Frank laughed again, but this time without any real humor. “Nonsense,” he said dismissively. “I have your life. I own you. If I’d have killed you, I wouldn’t have anything. My power lies in letting you live.”
Paulina wished she hadn’t asked. She felt sick thinking about what Frank had said, and even worse knowing he was right. She tried to breathe deeply to calm herself, but that just seemed to be making it worse. Paulina placed a hand on her chest and began to wheeze, squeezing her eyes shut tightly and coughing. The throaty, squeaky noise was the telltale sign of her asthma attacks, which had become more frequent since her arrival. “My--my inhaler!” she gasped. She hadn’t thought to bring it. Deep breaths weren’t working.
Paulina opened her eyes and stared pleadingly at Frank, who reached into a bag on the seat next to him. Miraculously, he pulled out Paulina’s inhaler and tossed it to her. She fumbled to catch it and it clattered to the floor, sliding under the seat. Tears started pouring down her face as she waved her hand fruitlessly beneath the seat. Finally, Frank left his seat and grabbed the little white object, jamming it into the girl’s choking mouth. He pressed down and Paulina inhaled once, twice, three times on the puffer. When Frank finally pulled it away, Paulina sat back in her seat and took deep breaths, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.
Frank took the seat next to her and placed a hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly up and down rhythmically. He waited for a few minutes before speaking, allowing Paulina to catch her breath. “Alright, honey?”
Paulina just gave him a strange look. Honey? Frank seemed to notice his slip, as well, and cleared his throat.
“Ah…Alright? Feeling alright?” Paulina nodded, and had to refrain from smiling at the pink tinge that had taken to Frank’s face. He quickly removed his hand from her back and crossed his arms over his chest. An uneasy silence befell them.
“What is the experiment?” Paulina asked quietly, not looking at Frank. She didn’t really expect a real answer. She’d asked so many times, indirectly, without an answer, that it was almost habit now.
“It’s complicated,” Frank answered. Paulina sighed. “But…Have you ever heard of something called…Stockholm Syndrome?”
I feel like I might be shot for putting in this cliff-hanger after such a long wait...Comment+Subscribe,plz.thnx. OverAndOutxx
“Nothing,” Paulina murmured, shaking her head slightly. That was a lie. She’d actually been thinking about something that she hadn’t allowed herself to since her first day of abduction: her parents. She’d tried to stop thinking about them almost immediately after her arrival; the thought of how they must have felt did nothing but torture Paulina, making tears prick the backs of her eyes and the breath catch in her throat.
“Are you frightened of flying?” Frank pressed, gesturing out the window of the private plane they were flying in. It was very nice, too. Large, but Paulina and Frank were the only occupants. There wasn’t even a pilot; Frank had explained some special GPS feature to Paulina, but she’d only nodded and taken her seat, already lost in thought. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt the need to think about her parents. It still made her sad; it still hurt. But…Paulina couldn’t help but wonder: did they still think about her? It had only been a few months…but then again, how long did it take before a person was declared legally dead? Had the police told them it was most probable that Paulina had been killed? Did they have a suspect? Paulina wondered if Frank, Bob, Gerard, Ray, or Mikey were even in the running for suspects. Sure, anyone that met Gerard for a second would assume with relative certainty that he was capable of kidnap, but that meant nothing if there was no evidence to even lead the police to any of the men keeping Paulina…
“No,” Paulina murmured, shaking her head again a few times. She had never flown before, actually, and might have been frightened if she hadn’t been so absorbed in her own mind.
“Then what is it? You’ve been staring at my knees for almost an hour now. I know you’re thinking of something.” Frank strummed his fingers on his thigh thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow to the girl seated across from him.
“It’s just…” Paulina wasn’t certain she wanted to tell Frank. To tell him what was bothering her was like handing a loaded pistol to her opponent in war: the weapon and the ammunition. Then again, this particular opponent also happened to have a full artillery on his side regardless, so it wasn’t like it really mattered. “Just thinking about my parents.”
“What about them?” Frank leaned forward, interested. Paulina had known this would be a bad idea, but it was too late.
“Just…wondering if they still think about me.” Paulina looked away, embarrassed. What business was it of Frank’s what she was thinking about? As far as she knew, her thoughts were still her own. But no, those, too, seemed to be escaping her grasp.
“Your only daughter being kidnapped isn’t something you just forget about in a few months.” Frank waved his hand dismissively. It hurt Paulina to see her parents be waved away like a pesky fly. She didn’t like this.
“I guess,” she murmured. “But I just wonder sometimes. Like, do they--” Paulina stopped short, realizing how close she’d come to asking a question.
Frank sighed. “Paulina,” he said, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. “I think I’m going to do you a favor. For now, only while we’re on this plane, up in the air, you are allowed to ask questions. Sound good?” Paulina nodded, giving the man opposite her a suspicious look. Was he messing with her? Fucking with her head? Was there a particular question he wanted her to ask? She ran her hand through her hair absent-mindedly, noting the new length, or lack thereof.
“Why did you cut my hair?” she finally asked.
Frank laughed, a genuine smile gracing his features for just a second before he regained composure. “For some reason, that question doesn’t surprise me.” Frank’s tone seemed to be almost…fond.
“Well?” Paulina’s stomach seemed to drop, until she remembered that she was permitted to ask questions.
“Well…” Frank began, leaning back in his chair thoughtfully, folding his hands in his lap and looking off into space. “Now that I’ve shaved all your hair off, what do you have left that I haven’t taken from you?”
Paulina thought about this. He was probably right. But still… “My life,” she answered, looking at him. They hadn’t managed to kill her…yet. If they even planned on killing her. Whatever they planned on doing.
Frank laughed again, but this time without any real humor. “Nonsense,” he said dismissively. “I have your life. I own you. If I’d have killed you, I wouldn’t have anything. My power lies in letting you live.”
Paulina wished she hadn’t asked. She felt sick thinking about what Frank had said, and even worse knowing he was right. She tried to breathe deeply to calm herself, but that just seemed to be making it worse. Paulina placed a hand on her chest and began to wheeze, squeezing her eyes shut tightly and coughing. The throaty, squeaky noise was the telltale sign of her asthma attacks, which had become more frequent since her arrival. “My--my inhaler!” she gasped. She hadn’t thought to bring it. Deep breaths weren’t working.
Paulina opened her eyes and stared pleadingly at Frank, who reached into a bag on the seat next to him. Miraculously, he pulled out Paulina’s inhaler and tossed it to her. She fumbled to catch it and it clattered to the floor, sliding under the seat. Tears started pouring down her face as she waved her hand fruitlessly beneath the seat. Finally, Frank left his seat and grabbed the little white object, jamming it into the girl’s choking mouth. He pressed down and Paulina inhaled once, twice, three times on the puffer. When Frank finally pulled it away, Paulina sat back in her seat and took deep breaths, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.
Frank took the seat next to her and placed a hand on her back, rubbing it soothingly up and down rhythmically. He waited for a few minutes before speaking, allowing Paulina to catch her breath. “Alright, honey?”
Paulina just gave him a strange look. Honey? Frank seemed to notice his slip, as well, and cleared his throat.
“Ah…Alright? Feeling alright?” Paulina nodded, and had to refrain from smiling at the pink tinge that had taken to Frank’s face. He quickly removed his hand from her back and crossed his arms over his chest. An uneasy silence befell them.
“What is the experiment?” Paulina asked quietly, not looking at Frank. She didn’t really expect a real answer. She’d asked so many times, indirectly, without an answer, that it was almost habit now.
“It’s complicated,” Frank answered. Paulina sighed. “But…Have you ever heard of something called…Stockholm Syndrome?”
I feel like I might be shot for putting in this cliff-hanger after such a long wait...Comment+Subscribe,plz.thnx. OverAndOutxx
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