Zandra
My toes are burning by how long I've been walking and walking and walking. There is no end to it. None that I can see. It's just me and darkness invading every inch of my sight.
Why am I walking when I know there is no escape? I don't know why. I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know how I got here. What is this place? I want to pause and observe but my legs won't allow me to. I'm not the one controlling them. Then who is? Who bought me here? And why won't my body respond to me? I feel more burning on my toes and I shout in pain, in immense pain, but the sound won't reach me. Blisters of blood are forming on my feet. I screech in pain, yet again. They pop and blood's oozing out of them. I scream and yell, but my expression remains neutral as if I'm just staring at a point with a poker face.
"You think you're smarter than me?" A feminine voice echoes. It's mom's. I could never forget the petrifying voice of hers. The one that made my spine shiver. The one that made my hands tremble, constantly.
I don't respond to the voice. I'm still walking. Still in that poker face. Still in the darkness. Still screaming.
"Answer me you fucking bitch!" she spat. I can't see her. It's just her voice that I can hear. The smell of her sweat that I can sniff. The aura of her presence that I can feel. It's fucking terrifying and I want to run. Run away from it all. Run so fast that I start to fly into the oblivion sky. But I'm still walking. Still in that poker face. Still in the darkness. Still screaming.
"You won't listen until you get beaten up will you." I hear her horrid chuckles followed by sizzling sounds.
The top of my left thigh starts to burn. The skin ripping apart at the touch of nothing. I'm still screaming, but it's not audible, neither is it visible on my face. Blood starts to drip down. It hurts. It hurts like hell yet I'm still walking and my screams aren't reaching my ears.
I screech at my highest pitch, but it's no use. I'm still walking and walking and walking to an end that is non-existent. The top right corner of my back starts to sizzle, and I screech yet again. Then the top left corner, then the middle and just like that my whole back is covered in freshly burned skin, but I'm still walking. Still in that poker face. Still in the darkness. Still screaming, instead this time my screams are audible. My body starts to respond to me and my mouth slowly opens to scream and I start to run, faster and faster till I trip and fall and blood oozes out of my head. I can see that I'm no longer conscious. But why do I still hear my screams, my pleas and the chuckles of Lena and Rafael? My oh-so-good parents.
My eyes flashed open. My lungs block the oxygen from entering it. I gasped in the need for air, the need for fresh air to slide down my windpipe. Tears grazed down my cheek as I wiped them out with trembling hands. My head dropped to my palms and all I could do now was weep until my eyes were sore and red.
It was just a dream. It was just a dream. Just a dream. JUST A DREAM!
This wasn't the first time I'd had a nightmare like this. I've been having them since I left Allston. I should distract myself. I should get up and do something, but my body is frozen. My brain's yelling at me to get the hell out of this room and get some fresh air, but my heart is numb to it now. Numb to all the pain it's been through. Numb to all the torture it tolerated. I stayed still. Not a limb moving, except for the trembles in my fingers that held my head from falling.
It's been about half an hour and I finally move to get up and head to the kitchen to make myself something, anything to distract my mind from overthinking.
It's three in the morning. The sky's still deep blue. I sip the matcha tea I made a few moments ago and stare at the therapeutic stars from my spherical garden window. I shudder to the cool autumn breeze. The weather these days has been calm and windy. The exact type of weather I love.
I exhaled and let my eyes shut to feel the breeze hugging my skin as my hair flew to the melody of the wind. Oh how much I love autumn!
～🥀～
I heard a doorbell when I finally found the perfect red shade of lipstick I was searching for.
"Coming!" I took long strides to get to the door quickly.
"Hey, baby girl! Ready to give me company?" Mae held out her arm in the green satin dress that she always wore to a fancy party.
I chuckled "Look at you!" I gestured my hands towards her and she pouted "All eyes are going to be on you tonight for sure."
Tonight was the charity gala that Mae's mom had organised. It was a charity donation for orphanages and nursing homes. She'd asked me to accompany her for the event and I'd refused at the beginning but then she mentioned Cecília Maburery a world-famous fashion designer and my role model ever since I could walk, so I had no choice but to give in. Just the thought of seeing The Cecília Maburery makes me want to squeal and jump around like a little kid going to Disneyland.
Mae's mom, Isabel was an attorney. She dealt with actors, successful businessmen and other rich clients. So she was rich. Like billionaire rich. Mae grew up with a silver spoon and since she is an only child it was easier for Isabel and Andrew to move around a lot, and that they did a lot.
"When have they not?" she giggled. "Okay, enough about me. Can we please talk about your dress? Like babe, you're just..." She did the chef's kiss and I giggled. I'd worn a wine-red strapless maxi dress with a slit that hugged my left thigh.
"It makes your tits look luscious" she teased as I groaned and rolled my eyes. I do admit it thou. The dress did a thing for my tits alright.
"Come on! I need your opinion on something." We sprinted to my room.
I held out two handbags "Which one would look the best?" My right hand held a golden, chick one with a beautiful red lace and my left hand held a silver, metallic one.
"Umm...obviously the golden one!" she popped her head. "Now come one! We gotta hurry," she yelled through my living room.
I quickly grabbed all the essentials. Lipstick? Check. Perfume? Check. My wallet? Check. And lastly, a generous smile? Check.
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Unconditional Hate
RomanceZANDRA FLAMMIA Elegant, Passionate, Stubborn All she wanted was her dream job in THE best fashion industry in New York, But little did she know that fate had a whole different story for her. RIVER ROMANO Playboy, Logical, Possessive When he crosses...
