you're mine

chapter 3

Emily

Once again, I am woken by the sun. This time I am in my own bed, thankfully. I stretch, my nightgown rising a little at the bottom. I drop my feet down onto the floor and leave my bed, heading downstairs for some breakfast. My mom and dad are sat at the kitchen counter, talking about their day ahead before my dad leaves for work. They do it every morning. I see him stand up and kiss her goodbye. "Good morning sweetheart." he mutters to me as he walks past. "good morning, dad."

"good morning, mom. I am going out today, would you like me to run any errands for you?"

"Emelia, I let you have a week break because going to that party was so unlike you, I thought you might have been having some sort of mental breakdown." She stretches her worry. "But now you are fine and need to get back into your routine. You know you have Ice skating and volunteering on Sunday's." My mom informs me.

"Yes, I know mom but I really just wanted to go on a walk today and-"

"That is enough arguing now, Emelia. You will do as you're told." She interrupts me in a soft tone.

I supress a smirk at her seriousness. Once upon a time, I would've cried at my disappointment toward her. But now, it makes me laugh.

.

The car on the road is smooth, relaxing. My ice skating bag is at my feet on the passenger seat floor. After my breakfast I got dressed into some white leggings and a pink tank top then left with my mom. I don't have bad parents or anything, I love them, they're just very protective of me since what happened with my brother. But, there overwhelming need to protect me means nothing is ever good enough. they always want more. I have been doing ballet since I was two years old, tap dance since four,ice skating since five, swimming since six and gymnastics since I was seven. They always want me doing something. I think they don't want to leave any time for anything to unscrew in my brain like it did with my brother. I do not have a phone, or any electronics for that matter.

I know people will see this as my parents wanting me to be perfect for public display, but that isn't true. They just want me to find my niche, not leaving me... wandering.

Luca

When I woke up I was thinking about her, I wanted to go straight to her but I thought it was best if I waited for my dad to leave for work, since he gave me this lovely bust lip.

But now, he has left. And I get to see my girl.

I walk to her house, remembering the way perfectly. When I get there, I do not see anyone inside.

Where is she? A frown creeps up onto my face

I climb up to her window and jump in. Her room is pretty and very feminine. Pink and white are the only two colours in sight. She keeps everything organized and clean. So perfect and precise.

After taking everything in I wonder if I should leave a note but I decide against it as I do not want to scare her. I leave before she comes back, as I am unaware of where she is or when she will be back.

she better be ok.

Emily

It is now 4:30 and I just finished volunteering, which was my last thing to do today. I am now waiting in the nursing home car park for my mom to pick me up. She went shopping whilst I done everything I had too.

She pulls up in front of me and I climb inside, escaping the cold air surrounding me.

"could we stop for ice cream?" I ask her.

"Emelia, that is not exactly healthy."

I do not reply to that because her reply will be "you are an athlete, you need to eat like one."

I am not an athlete. The truth is, I sometimes question whether I have a personality. I do not feel as if I have one. The only things I know I really like is pink, reading and winter. Out of all my sports, Ice skating is my favourite because it is the easiest and my ice skates are very pretty. Having such simple opinions on things make me question my personality and how others perceive me as a person. Am I shallow and boring? If so, is that really a bad thing to be? All my life, my family have inflicted this personality onto me, shaping and molding me into who they want me to be, not wanting to fail another child.

Another thing that makes me question how people perceive me, is the fact I have no friends. Others automatically see this as a bad thing. They jump to conclusions of me getting bullied or being depressed; except that isn't the truth. I don't think I am depressed, it isn't something I have given much thought towards, but I don't feel sad. I don't necessarily feel happy either. I do have euphoric momenta, like the time I got to watch a fireworks show for my birthday, or when I swam with a stingrays. But on a regular day, I sort of just feel... there. Alive, but maybe not living.

I am sixteen, almost seventeen and I still know nothing about myself. Maybe there is nothing to know. I am plain, boring and pretty. I get told I am pretty a lot but I would prefer to be told I am interesting or funny. People around me cringe when I describe myself as pretty, which I find odd considering most people call my pretty themselves. Only when I do it, it isn't right, almost like it makes me less pretty to admit it than be denial on the subject.

Excluding what Benjamin did to me, there is nothing interesting about me. Benjamin is my brother. When I was a baby he was jealous of me. He had just got back from boarding school and had a new baby sister.

So he tried to kill me.

I was a baby so I do not care. He got put in a psych ward. I didn't blame him entirely. Our parents didn't even tell him about me. He got sent to boarding school for 'behavioural problems' and when he returned, he was replaced' by yours truly.

I cant say that if I was in his position I would have done the same, considering my sanity is still intact, but I don't hold what happened against him, like my parents do. My dad hasn't visited him in over five years. My mom visits him every now and again, but it doesn't seem important to her. If something else comes up, she will happily miss the visit.

It makes me feel sorry for him. Every time I over hear a phone conversation she has, making plans at the same time of a Benjamin meeting, I picture him waiting hours for her to show, once again disappointed.

When we got home, I headed straight upstairs and got changed into pyjamas so I could relax for the rest of the afternoon.

Luca

"Luca, come play with me!" Taylor barges into my room.

"No, I'm busy. Leave." I say bluntly.

"Please, Justine, Marie and Emma are boring playing with dolls, Kyle, Brayden, Oliver and sara are playing outside and I am not allowed too." He wines.

"So play with Rowan or Austin."

"They are babies."

"So are you. How old are you, three?" I raise an eyebrow.

"I am five!" He says as he sits on my bed.

I groan at his ignorance.

"What happened to your lip Lucy?" The small boy holding a stuffed animal resembling a snail examines.

"That is not my name, it is Luca. And dad hit me, obviously."

"Why dadda hit you?"

I rub my face in frustration. "Talk properly. I don't know, guess he felt like it. 'must have been in the mood to punch a good looking face. Now get out, I need silence."

Taylor finally leaves. I put my headphones on and close my eyes. Frustration still swims around my body from showing up at her house, only to find out she wasn't there for me.