Jane

She stumbled towards the dim light, certain that it was her last chance at freedom. The light was beckoning, and though it appeared tainted, she knew it would bear the breath of fresh air she yearned for. Summoning her last ounce of strength,  she pulled herself towards the dusty door, dragging her limp body along.

I stood in a corner, amused by her pathetic efforts to escape. The fact that she believed she could be free never failed to bring a smirk to my face. She didn't notice me, absorbed by the sliver of sunlight that she so desperately clung on to. I knew the longer I left her, the more she thought she would be able to escape. I wanted her hopes to soar so high, only for it to come crashing down as she realised what I have done. Am I a sick person? Easily entertained by the suffering of others? Maybe I am, but the control I had over her was so overpowering, consistently urging me to play with her, push her to the limits. To break her.

It seemed like it was only yesterday when I noticed her. There wasn't anything unique about her features that caught my attention. Instead, it was how generally simple she seemed. She looked boring, caught in a life she no longer reigned over. She looked plain. Plain Jane. Since then, I constantly searched for her, considering it a challenge to identify her from the hoards of people swarming around. I always enjoyed a challenge. Soon, it became habit to look for that simple brown bob amidst the swirling crowd. 

I wanted more. I wanted her to know me, to understand the lengths I went through just to discover her. 

I decided to visit her at her favourite pub, 'The Sawmill', the one she goes to once a fortnight every Thursday. I sat on a table for two, situated south-east of where she was. I waited until she was mostly drunk, then walked up towards the bar to introduce myself. 

I knew that all she wanted was a one night stand, something to add interest to her dull, monotonous life. Certain that I wasn't a threat, she kissed me and we made our way back to my house, where I assisted her drunk self into my room.

That was when I told her that I've seen her before. Initially, she thought I was being romantic. I continued to explain to her how I observed her actions, for example how she always licks her lips when she gets nervous.

Just as I said that, she licked her lips and backed away. As confusion, tinged with fear, flooded into her eyes, she whispered,"I don't understand." Even after a few years, those three words ran a shiver down my spine...

I strided towards the door and stood myself in front of her. Memories never failed to make me feel sentimental, but I had to first crush the hopes of my flightless little bird. I leaned down and held her face in my hands.

"You're stuck with me, dear." I said lovingly, wiping away the tear that rolled down her cheek as she came to a realisation that she was nowhere near escape. The burden of that understanding, mixed with that of hunger and fear, proved too much for her. She fell limp in my arms and I brought her back into the room, placing her gently onto her bed.

Her foot caught onto the bottle of acid that I use every so often and it spilt, hissing as it kissed her broken skin. I retrieved the bottle and put it in my pocket, certain that I would make use of it again. I reached for the key that hung around my neck and locked her room. The action always gave me a sense of power. I relished every moment of it.

I walked down the stairs and made myself a cup of coffee, then sat on the dining table to read the daily newspaper. As I flipped through the papers, a particular article caught my eye. A black and white picture of her was featured in a page-long article. Her hair was shorter and she seemed younger, but I could recognise her nonetheless.

'THE NATION MOURNS FOR EMMA CHRISTINA ALEXANDER'S THIRD YEAR OF DISAPPEARANCE'

I shook my head in disgust while I read the article. Emma Christina Alexander? The name didn't suit her at all. She was more of a... Jane.

A plain Jane.

Written by Sabrina Tan Sue Yi