Annika Remo
Two months later
"Mitchell you got this, just one more bite" She pushes the spoon in my hand away from her lips.
"I can't Annika," I smile as I realise what she means. Mitchell has been improving every day. She is so strong. The doctors predicted a week, yet she has fought and continues to battle. She is the most powerful person I've ever known. When she clutches my hand in hers, I slowly put her head on the pillow. Gently she moved my sleeves up to reveal the bruises on my wrist.
"A-Annika,"
"Mitchell, you know how I am. It's nothing. I'm always coming up with new ways to injure myself" I gently remove my hand from her's. I kissed her head, giving her a reassuring smile.
"Your wearing makeup again. You never do"
"Mitchell, you're very concerned about me. Isn't it possible for me to appear a bit more respectable when I come to check on you?" I give her a peck on the cheek.
It's not always the tears that measure the pain. Sometimes it's the smile we fake.
"Rest for a while. I'll return the following morning" As I turn around and go out after putting the blanket on her, the smile on my face vanishes. Tears run down my cheeks but I quickly wipe them away as I come down the stairs.
"Already leaving Annika," I hug my father, plastering the same smile. "I'll see you tomorrow." I went to leave when my father stopped me. "Annika you know you can tell me anything," I laugh, peaking his cheek. The worst kind of pain is when you're smiling just to stop the tears from falling.
"Obviously, papa. I have to go now since I'm running late." I dash out of the mansion, knowing that if I stayed any longer, I would collapse in front of him. I was so shaky that I failed to conceal the bruise on my wrist. I take the way back to my prison after exiting the gate.
Emotionally: I'm done.
Mentally: I'm drained.
Spiritually: I'm dead.
Physically: I smile.
But I must continue to battle for myself and, above all, Mitchell. I enter the Bierhals mansion with a deep breath. "Miss Annika, your back," I grin as I go into the kitchen, but who am I kidding, they all know what goes on behind those walls. They can hear the screams in the middle of the night, the anguish and misery throughout the corridors. "Yes, may I assist you," I say softly, she smiles and nods.
She offers me an apron after tying my hair up with a hair tie around my wrist. Baking is the only thing I can do to take my mind off things in this prison. Who'd have guessed that my childhood crush would turn into my worst nightmare?
As ideas race through my mind, I need the dough. I'm missing him. His smell is something I miss. His touch is something I miss. His comfort is something I miss. I miss his affection, yet he, like me, crushed my heart. But he never gave me a chance to explain myself; instead, he tossed me out as if I didn't matter. I witnessed him steal my heart and leave me bleeding on the floor as he walked away from me. I hope he could return it to me, but he had already smashed it into little fragments.
"Miss Annika are you ok," I didn't even realise tears were running down my cheeks. I give her a sweet smile as I wipe them away.
"Yes, sorry. I will be back," She nods and I quickly walk away, only for my arm to be snatched again.
Annika, breath.
"What do you want?" I don't even bother to glance back since I already know who it is.
"Where were you," the same exact questions I answer every day and it turns into hell.
"I was taking care of Mitchell," As he breathes down my neck, I sense him close from behind. Tears flood my eyes, yet I refuse to let them flow down. Certainly not in front of him.
"Next time, let me know where you go; you already know the consequences," he said, his voice filled with hatred and malice as if it were slowly poisoning me. He let go of my arm, causing me to whimper in pain and run into the nearest restroom, locking the door behind me. As I attempted to regulate my breathing, my hands were a shacking mess.
You're used to it, Annika; it's nothing new to you. Breath.
One day, I want someone to look past my fake smile, pull me close and say, no, you're not ok.
There was a knock on the door "Miss they are waiting for you at the table."
"I'll be there in a sec," I brush my tears away as I straighten myself up in front of the mirror. As the maids lay the meal on the huge table, I make my way down and sit quietly. I glance down at my plate, unable to eat. I've lost weight, and while I wish I hadn't, I'm unable to eat at the same table as them.
"Why aren't you eating," his voice was more frightening than my uncles.
"I'm not hungry," I respond without creating eye contact, sitting up straight and staring at my plate. I closed my eyes when I heard all the plates shatter as they hit the ground, silencing all the maids.
"Handle your fucking wife's mouth!" At my father-in law's commentary, my palms form fists beneath the table. He never seemed to mind, and I occasionally get the impression that he even encourages Liam's abusive manner.
"Excuse me" I run upstairs into my room locking the door. I hear banging against the door and Liam's thundering voice, yelling for me to open. I hold my head trying to comfort myself but I couldn't handle it.
"Enough!," I scream as I cry, holding myself.
"Enough Please!," I pull my hair and gut-wrenching sobs tore through my chest.
"I can't take this anymore. Please enough!" Liam seemed to stop as I heard his footsteps walking away. The sound of wailing and suffering echoed throughout my room.
I'm exhausted from trying to be stronger than I feel. I'm so focused on surviving for everyone else that I've lost track of myself in the waves. And by the time I realise it, I've already drowned.
Dear God, I am not okay. I'm not myself. I'm drained. Please calm my mind, heal my heart and take my worries away because I'm tired of fighting these waves.