I agreed and followed them. "We've arrived." The driver
said. As I stepped out of the car and onto the driveway, my eyes widening at
the magnificence of John's house.
"Wow, this is...huge," I breathed.
John smirked. "Yeah, my grandfather got taste."
As we walked towards
the entrance, a massive dog emerged from the side of the house. My heart
skipped a beat. The dog's fur was a deep brown, and its eyes seemed to pierce
into my soul.
"Ahh!" I screamed, jumping behind John.
But instead of comforting me, John pushed me away. "Don't be such a baby," he
selfishly said.
The dog took a step closer, its tail wagging threatenly. My
eyes opened wildly, searching for an escape route.
"I told my grandfather not to bring you here in the
first place," John said, his voice dripping with mockery . "But he
never listens. Always bringing filthy people into the house."
I felt a sting from John's words. "I'm not
filthy," I replied.
John arrogantly said . "You're not even normal. You
can't remember your name, and now you're scared of a dog. You're such a
freak."
The security guards rushed out of the house, grabbing the
dog's collar and pulling it back. John's grandfather stormed out, his face
thunderous.
"John, what's going on here?" he demanded.
John stained an eyebrow, still smiling . "Just showing
our guest her way around, grandfather."
His grandfather's eyes narrowed. "John. Apologize to
our guest."
John's smile faltered
for a moment before he regained his composure. "Sorry," he replied ,
but his tone was insincere.
I felt a surge of anger at John's behavior, but I bit back
my response . For now, I was trapped in
this extraordinary prison, at the mercy of John's cruelty.
"Let's go in and have lunch, you must be exhausted from putting up with John" John
father said with an understanding tune as he went upstairs
As we went in and sat
down for dinner, I couldn't help but wrinkle my
nose in distaste. "What's this?" I asked, pointing at the
unappetizing mush on her plate.
John's face darkened. "You're complaining about the
food?" he asked. "My grandfather went out of his way to pick you up
from who-knows-where, and this is how you repay him?"
He leaned in, his voice dripping with anger. "You're
ungrateful, you know that? You're just a charity case, a pathetic little thing
who can't even remember her own name."
His words cut deep, and I felt a sting of tears in my eyes. "I'm sorry," l whispered,
trying to apologize.
John's grandfather stormed into the room, his face
thunderous. "Enough! What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes
blazing with anger.
"How dare you speak to our guest like that?" he
thundered, turning to John.
John tried to defend himself. "Grandfather, she
insulted the food! She said it was disgusting."
But his grandfather wasn't having it. "That's not an
excuse for your behavior. We employ a chef to cook for our guests. If she
doesn't like the food, we can easily prepare something else."
John's grandfather turned to him, his expression strict.
"You know, John, your rudeness and arrogance are why you're still single.
No woman wants to marry someone who treats others with disrespect."
John's face reddened with anger. "I don't need
this," he muttered , pushing back his chair.
His grandfather's voice rose. "John, sit back down!
We're going to have a civilized dinner, even if it kills us."
But John was already on his feet, his eyes flashing with
anger. "I've lost my appetite," he spat, storming out of the room.
The tension in the air was palpable, and I felt a surge of
discomfort. I glanced at John's grandfather, who sighed heavily and rubbed his
temples.
"Let's just sit down and try to have a pleasant
dinner," he said wearily.
As we sat down at the
dining table, ready to begin the meal, John's father suddenly received a call
and excused himself, mentioning he had a very important meeting to attend to.
Before he left, he instructed the chef to ensure she cook
whatever I desire for , saying, "Please, make sure to prepare whatever our
guest wishes to eat."
As John's grandfather left for his meeting, I felt guilt for
what had happened earlier. So I decided to go upstairs to clear my head.
Before I went up, John's grandfather came back inside and
instructed the maid to show me to
my room. "And make sure my room is
close to John's," he added, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.
The maid nodded and led me upstairs. As we walked, I
couldn't help but wonder why John's grandfather wanted our rooms to be close together.
When we reached the top of the stairs, the maid opened a
door to a beautifully decorated room. "This is your room, miss," she
said with a smile.
I thanked her and stepped inside. I noticed that the room
next to mine was partially opened. I
pushed it open slowly, wondering if it might be John's room.
As I pushed open the door, I saw John sitting on the bed,
staring at me with a mixture of annoyance.
"What do you want?" he spat, his voice dripping
with anger
I took a deep breath and stepped inside. "I came to
apologize," I said, my voice barely
above a whisper.
John raised an eyebrow. "Apologize? For what?"
"For what happened earlier," I replied. "I
didn't mean to insult your family's food."
John looked at me . "You think that's what this is
about? You think a simple apology will fix everything?"
He stood up, his eyes blazing with anger. "You're just
a clueless, ungrateful little brat. You came into my peaceful house, insult our
food, and then have the nerve to apologize like that makes everything
okay?"
He took a step closer to me, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You're not even worth my
time."
I quickly withdrew from the room, feeling a lump form in my
throat. I couldn't explain why, but seeing John sitting there, looking so lost
and alone, had touched me.
As I turned to make my way back to my own room, tears began
to well up in my eyes. I felt a wave of sadness wash over me, and before I knew
it, I was crying.
I quickly wiped away the tears, feeling a mix of emotions I
couldn't quite understand. Why was I crying? And why did I feel this strange
sense of connection to John, despite his cruel words and behavior?
As I stood there, trying to compose myself , I heard a sound coming from John's room. It sounded like... whispering