It's finally Saturday and I got let out yesterday afternoon because I needed to get washed and prepare for the ball.
This ball isn't like a Cinderella ball. No. This is a ball filled with mafias, I know that when we start shooting at people it's probably going to start an up roar. So I don't know how Santiago is going to deal with that.
The whole time I was in the room it was mostly filled with panic attacks upon panic attacks. I think I threw up a little as well which turned into dry heaving because I had nothing to throw up.
I now stand in my room, my reflection staring back at me in the mirror. She's not pretty, far from it in fact. She's not the kind of skinny boys drool over. She doesn't have the delicate face others admire so dearly.
She's the opposite of beauty, as her father once said. Everything about her is so morbidly sickening.
I look at her and I hate what I see.
I hate it.
The only thoughts going through my head are:
"Ugly"
"Fat"
"Useless"
"Disgrace"
"Stop looking"
But for the first time I can't seem to take my eyes off myself. The way my ribs are showing through my burgundy dress and the way my scars on my wrists and some on my thighs show.
I think I'm going to be sick.
I can see my bones are pointy and yet I still manage to see the fatness coming. I scratch at my hand and I don't realise how hard my nails are going, until I see blood.
I huff in annoyance and punch the mirror. The glass shards falling to the ground at my feet. At least now I can see the broken mirror instead of the disgusting girl in the reflection.
My hair is curled with a few pieces pinned back, but one curl at the front keeps escaping and going in my face.
Annoying piece of shit.
My makeup is only; concealer, nose contour, blush, highlighter, black eyeliner with a silver one on top, mascara and burgundy lipstick to go with the dress.
I clean my fist and hand up before strapping my silver shoes on and walking out of my bedroom.
On the way to my fathers office I can't help but think of my mother. It hurt for years when she died, not only did she die. But she died because of me.
I showed the pain for around a year until it's as if the pain got beat out of me by either my father or the men he would order to do it for him.
So I stopped showing it until it didn't hurt anymore. It doesn't hurt me anymore, which actually terrifies me.
It should be really painful right?
You might think it's a good thing to no longer feel pain.
But you're wrong.
So very wrong; all the tears, the suffering, the agony. They reminded me that I was human, that I could still feel. Now, I'm just left with a numb sensation and a weighted emptiness within my chest.
I feel like I'm wrong for not hurting.
Is it bad that I don't feel sad anymore?
Am I horrible for doing that?
I accidentally walk into someone but I don't check to see who it is. "Sorry" I mumble, walking forward with my head down. My thoughts raiding my mind.
"You know you just walked past the office right?"
I stop at the voice and turn around to see Carlo in an all black suit. His jacket in his hand and the top two buttons of his suit shirt undone and the tie also undone around his neck, hanging loosely.
My eyes travel down his appearance, at the tucked in shirt and the belt he has popped through his pants. I look back up to his messy curly black hair and tilt my head to the side slightly.
I look to the door he is standing near and walk back towards it and knock on the door, but before I get a response Carlo opens the door and walks in.
My jaw drops as Carlo just waltzes in and sits down near Rico who is already sat down.
Lucky bitch. I'd probably get shot for doing that.
I stand at the doorway and my father points to the chair in between Rico and Carlo. I sit down and lean back a little, a leg crossed over the other.
Carlo looks at me as our fathers talk. He leans over and whispers "You look very pretty"
I feel butterflies in my stomach as he leans back in his chair.
He doesn't mean it Adelaide. You saw yourself, why would he compliment that?
Before I can say thank you anyway. Santiago speaks up.
"You two will be acting like you've known each other for a long time and you need to show that you are in love. Word has gotten around that you will be getting married."
My face scrunches up at the word love. It really is a strong word that some people over use to get what they want.
"So stick close to each other the whole night. The person you are looking for is a man named Ramon Zantos. He is a leader of one of the rival gangs. He has blonde hair and blue eyes, and stands around 5'11." Santiago finishes.
I nod my head in understanding.
"Let's go then" Rico stands up.
We all stand up and walk out, going downstairs and outside to the limo.
------------------------
Carlo's outfit.