“Woah” Croc exclaims as I stumble back into him and shove the gun back into his hand aggressively.
“Sorry” I chuckle nervously, “guess i’m not going to be good with guns,” I say quickly. “Thanks for showing me” I nod to Croc before walking quickly to the kitchen and hanging my head over the sink as I try to regain my breathing, the panic threatening to grip me tightly.
“You okay?” Jason voices behind me. I turn to see him leaning in the kitchen doorway.
“Just concerned about these dishes” I joke, turning the tap on. I bob down and rifle through the cabinets.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning, obviously. I can’t make myself food if there's no clean dishes to put it on '' I reply, grabbing the bottle of soap and piling some into the soaking sink.
“What really happened?” Jason inquires, coming beside me and hopping on the bench and staring at me intently. “Did the gun set it off?”
“Set what off?”
“Your anxiety.”
“Maybe” I sigh, “it just brought up old memories.” I keep scrubbing and throw the now clean dishes onto the drying rack beside the sink.
“And cleaning is a way of coping?”
I pause at his words and curse myself, realising how stupid I must look. A hostage willingly cleaning dishes.
“I just like things clean and orderly” I say casually, continuing to clean.
“Just asking. You know we care about your welfare.”
“Yeah cause i’m your bargaining chip” i criticise, staring him down. “I’m not going to tell you my secrets whilst I can't walk out that front door freely.”
“Makes sense” Jason shrugs and hops off the bench and opens the fridge. “We have some eggs and milk?”
“What about in the pantry?” I ask, trying to keep the past at bay. I dry my hands on my pants as opposed to the damp tea towel on the bench.
“Ahhh” Jason hesitates as he opens a cupboard and I groan. I just want breakfast.
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