I wake up and all round me is the plum pudding of darkness. I can't move. I struggle against my captor, but it takes me several minutes to escape the welcoming warmth of the blankets. As I sit up my stomach growls and pinches me awake. Food: what a wonderful thought. I get out of bed and flip on the lights. The blinding whit light fills the room and I quickly turn the lights off. I lay my head against the door for several minutes debating if moving is worth it. My hunger pushes me to walk out the door to start my grizzly climb up to the food as images of french toast and warm syrup flash across my mind. As I crawl upwards I feel as if I am forgetting something. My stomach tells me its nothing, but it doesn't feel like nothing. I am almost to the top of the stairs when I hear a cough, see the dim light of an iPad and I remember the nothing. He is here. I sprint down the stairs while at the same time trying not to make a sound. I make it back into my room and and stand there in shock. Why is he here? What does this mean? Is he going to move in? I am brought back from the abyss of worry when my stomach grumbles a protest to my flight from the food. I don't know if I can go back no matter how hungry I am. I don't want to put on a bra and I don't want to socialize, but in order to get my breakfast I need to. I decide my stomach can wait and I hop back into bed to wait him out. But as I pull the covers over my head I wonder how long she will stay with him because I can't do this everyday.