Mr. Right

This was another Jimmie prompt inspired by the picture below. I took this, and of course, made it dark and twisted. Please note this contains descriptions of an abusive relationship and may be triggering to some.


On the surface he was perfect. Tall, strong, handsome, with money and personality to spare.  He was a catch by any standard, and I knew he was too good to be true.

My friends brushed my concerns aside.  They told me I was being overly critical.  That I could find the fault in  anyone.  That no one could up to that kind of scrutiny.  That I wouldn’t do any better than this.

  He gave me the courage to quit my job and pursue my art.  I would move into his house, and he would cover for everything. He supported me, and my dreams, where my friends would not. He encouraged me to let them go, and told me I could do better.

 In a matter of months he went from being one person in my life to my whole world.  I started to doubt my misgivings. He was the best friend I had ever had.  The kind of guy I had always dreamed of.

 The facade fell in layers, as he went from compliments, to suggestions for improvements,  to criticisms.  We stopped going on dates, then we stopped going out, and then he locked me in the basement. 

He told me if I wanted to I could go. Then he showed me a wall of tens of thousands of seemingly identical keys. All I had to do was find the right one.  He told me to trust my instincts, and locked the door.  I laughed until I cried.

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