Their Wife

Chapyer 3

2 years 3 months ago

Sometimes life's not as hard as people portray it to be. Let it hurt and then let it go. It all begins and ends in one's mind. What you give power to, has power over you. What you sow, you reap. My annoyance simmered to life yet I gulped it down with a deep breath. Let it go.

My heavy lids moved to the left at the glass window and I could see my hazy reflection. My breath hitched. The girl staring back at me was no stranger, but she was someone I didn't like. All glossy, fake smile and pretentious. The embroidered dress Papa had custom-made for me clinging to my curves. I looked like one of the mistresses roaming around. If Mama saw me like this, she'd have another heart attack. And probbaly this time she'd go to heaven.

I hate it. I hate being this glamorous and shiny object that my father could show off to his guests like a prized trophy he took pride in. If I had my way, I'd have been studying in some East part of the country where I could at least pretend to be normal person with a decent life. But that's not the life of the daughter of a business entrepreneur. My father's filthy rich and equally short-tempered, I couldn't afford to anger him. If he did, I'd be married to some middle-aged man with a big tummy and a lust-filled mind. 

"She's my daughter, Rara Morris." Papa introduced me to his guests that ripped my attention from my reflection to stare in front with a strained fake smile on my bright red lips. Papa cast me a look that promised retribution for my absent-minded attitude. I gulped as he squeezed my wrist. Uh-oh.

"Hello, nice to meet you."

"Gorgeous, isn't she?" Papa said proudly making a shiver run down my spine. I better not disappoint him tonight. I gave a tight-lipped smile to strangers who seemed twice my age with a greasy smile and protruding belly.

"Yes, divinely." The man agreed with a suggestive voice, his eyes taking over the slit of my dress to the cleavage. An involuntary shudder of disgust skated down my spine. If my papa scared me, his business associates terrified me. There was always unfiltered ardor filled in their eyes as Papa presented me to them like a product he ought to sell.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom." Papa gave a warned squeeze to my wrist, and then with a sigh, he let go.

"Hurry back, I need to introduce you to more guests." More old freaky, shameless men who think with organs between their legs.

I gave a small smile to his guest, mumbling a small sorry with a slight bow as I turned around. As I walked to the far left where restroom was, I caught murmur of voices and drunken laughs of people drowning themselves in alcohol. I could see old men with their young wives, all glammed up and perfumed, smiling at every rubbish escaping their so-called husband's mouths. I was not oblivious to the idea that Papa brought me here to find a potential husband for me. My fists clenched beside my sides as I gracefully walked to the restroom. Several eyes turned to me with admirable eyes, or either lewd gazes. I was no stranger to these things.

The day I turned sixteen, I was introduced to this world. This dark world is so twisted, lethally inescapable. It feeds on young souls like myself and leaves nothing but a dead cadaver of hopes and dreams.

I was passing the hallway when fainted murmurs and sharp cries caught in my ears. Confused I looked around. The hallway seemed very empty with only two women standing at the far end fixing their makeup and giggling. I straighten my back. Did I imagine it? I blinked a few times when I heard it again. This time, it was audible.

To my left, there was a door, slightly ajar, and dark. Something curious in me bubbled with the dire need to know what was happening behind those doors. I was sure I heard the voices coming from here. I shouldn't do this, I shouldn't. But that barely stopped me as I took a careful step forward, and then another. My heart raced tentatively as I eyed the women standing in far. If anything bad happen, I could scream. There were people here it couldn't be that bad.