"I suppose it's pointless to think of you at all."
- Sylvia Plath
. . .
Tw - Mention of sexual assault
Dahlia
Lucian returned, wearing a black T-shirt and matching sweatpants with his hair a bit wet. Bobby and Vaness marched out, seeing the door open. I let them. The door to the deck was always closed, and everyone treated them nicely.
Lucian smiled when he saw the empty plates and placed a kiss on my forehead.
I scooted so that he could sit with me. He sat in the middle, back against the headboard, and pulled me on his lap.
"How's your ass?"
I flushed. "Um, okay. Hurts a bit."
He rubbed my thigh. "You did good."
"I did?"
"Yes. I know how hard it is for you to let go of control. You took twenty like a good girl."
"I cried a lot."
"I don't mind tears. In fact, I have many plans to make you cry."
"My tears turn you on?"
"Only when they're accompanied by your soaked cunt."
I set my head against his chest, just so I wouldn't have to look at him. "Oh."
"Yes. Tell me about dinner."
"Dad was a dick to Hedeon, but not as much as I expected."
"Hedeon doesn't look like a man someone can easily be a dick to," Lucian said.
"He doesn't," I agreed. "There were many people. Emilia and Alexandre talked about something he won't tell me about. The greenhouse thing happened. And my mom didn't talk to me, at all. She just smiled and asked 'How are you?' And then nothing. I think she is mad at me for ignoring Dad's texts."
"Will you hate me if I curse out your whole fucking family?"
I laughed. "No. I know they're bad. I'm not delusional enough to think otherwise. But, they're the cards I've been dealt with. I have to live with them."
"Or leave the table."
"I can't leave the table if we live in the same town."
He sighed. "What's about Alexandre and Emilia?"
"He won't tell me what they did. They walked away together."
"Did they?" I looked up at him. He was frowning. "One thing I can assure you of is that Alexandre wouldn't have touched her, or let her touch him. So, throw that out of your mind."
"Okay."
"You don't sound like you believe me."
"I've seen how my sister looks."
"Yes, a fifteen year old."
"She is eighteen."
"Yet, she acts like she is five."
I laughed. "She just...didn't get a lot of time to grow up, you know? I know she's not the best person, but can a person be good even after getting dragged through hell?"
"Yes," he answered. "My mom was. I'm not saying everyone is the same, Dahlia. But there are limits to what we take. I do not want you to part ways with your family, I know that will make you sad, but create boundaries. If they care about you, they will accommodate them."
"That's the thing," I whispered. "I don't think they will. I don't..." I swallowed. "I don't think they care."
. . .
I had many of my Uncle's journals. On Wednesday, I kept my store closed, so decided to breeze through them.
Most of them detailed on how bad the financial situation of my family was back then. My father was barely mentioned, with put emphasis on the fact that my uncle and my father had never liked each other.
Then, when I was going through the fifth journal, entries started becoming shorter.
It is wrong. It is so wrong. We need the money. I don't like this. I can't breathe when I'm in that fucking building. I don't want to learn any of them. I don't want to touch a knife. I don't want to know how to make my feet light on the ground. My stomach churns at the thought of seeing her. I can't do this. I can't do this.
My heart stilled, realizing what he was writing about.
He had been trained before he worked in the organization under the head who was obsessed with him.
She hurt him.
Even the thought of anyone hurting him made me feel lightheaded. I used to be fiercely protective of my uncle. I wasn't outgoing, but the urge to bash everyone's face who was mean to him, including my dad, was always there.
I read another entry.
I thought sex was supposed to feel nice.
But this wasn't sex, was it?
Allard didn't like it either. Others at the building smirked like we had won a trophy. I'm just trying to rip my skin off.
It wasn't sex.
I closed the journal, taking deep breaths. Allard didn't like it either. Monets' dad had also been a victim. Bobby instantly jumped into my lap as I set the journal away, meowing up at me.
I petted him.
"Can you kill someone who is already dead, Bobby?"
He tilted his head.
. . .
It was late at night the same day. Everyone has been busy. We just had breakfast together. I was a bit disappointed by the fact that they didn't try anything with me again.
Was it just about punishments? It couldn't be. Maybe they were busy keeping this giant ass ship working.
I was pacing the deck, watching the stars, and looking at the waters.
"Where the fuck are you going-"
I turned my head and watched as Andros ran out of the door, wearing only a pair of sweatpants. His hair was a mess, some strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. Hedeon was behind him, he grabbed Andros by the shoulder, his eyes widening as he saw me. This moment of distraction was enough for Andros. He punched Hedeon, right on the rips. Hedeon jerked back, clutching the side. I watched as some blood seeped through his white shit. A punch made him bleed? There must have been a wound there.
I gasped, taking a step back, my back met the railing.
Andros' head jerked towards me. His eyes were blank as if not even registering what he was doing. He walked towards me, and before I could get away, he grabbed my waist and set me on the railing.
He was going to push me off. The distance was too much. It would hurt.
I grabbed his shoulders. "Andros!"
His blank eyes ran over my face, his breathing so even it felt unnatural. His hands flexed on my waist. "Dahlia," he muttered.
I was shaking. "Let me go."
He slowly shook his head. "...No." he stepped closer. I watched as Hedeon sneaked up behind him. "Dahlia."
"A-Andros. Let me go. I'll fall."
He watched me, fingers still dug into my waist. "Dahlia."
I took in a shaky breath. I put a hand against his face. "Andros, you're scaring me."
He tilted his head and looked down at the waters. He looked back at me and pulled me off the railing. His fingers dig into my waist harder. I winced. "Dahlia."
"Yes?"
He frowned, head ducking so that he could look me in the eye. "Dahlia."
"Yes?"
He looked over his shoulder at Hedeon. "Back."
Hedeon's jaw clenched but he backed away. Andros could throw me in the water anytime.
Andros looked back at me. His one hand fisted the material of my dress, pulling it upon till my thighs and ass were exposed. I felt the cold breeze hitting my skin.
He looked down at the exposed skin. "Dahlia." His hands grabbed my thighs and pulled me up into him so that I had to wrap my arms and legs around him. My widened eyes looked at Hedeon's blank face.
Andros walked to a room. The door was open. All of it was washed in black. I couldn't see much. He laid down on the bed and cuddled me to his side, wrapping an arm around me. His blank eyes met mine.
"Dahlia."
"Yes?"
His eyes closed.
Hedeon entered the room, looking at his brother.
"What just happened?" I whispered to him.
"I don't know," Hedeon said dryly.
"You're bleeding." I tried to get out of Andros' grip. But it was impossible. He dug his head in my neck.
Hedeon looked down at his bloodied shirt. "Lucian will help me. Don't worry."
"Go, then."
"You'll stay with him?"
"I...I don't think he'll hurt me."
Hedeon looked at his brother. "I wouldn't be so sure. Whoever it was just now, Dahlia. It wasn't Andros."
"Go," I said to him again.
He picked up a phone which was on the nightstand. He tapped a few times and then handed it to me. His number was there.
"Keep it in your hand. I will go and send Alex."
"I don't think he will hurt me."
"I don't either," he admitted. "But I don't want to be wrong."
He sent Alexandre.
Andros slept through the night.
. . .
(3/4)