Help Me Fall

chapter two

[song- sex money feelings die - slowed version]

The black Camaro drove up a wide driveway and stopped in front of a great, white mansion.

I wonder how much this one costs.

"Thank you," My mother smiled at one of our drivers. Charles, he's my favorite. He's never tattled to my parents about all the times I had called him in the early hours of the morning, to be picked up from a club or bar drunk off my arse.

"The pleasure's all mine Mrs Volkov." He said with a charming smile. "I'll see you on Sunday, Venessa." He winked at me once my mother had stepped out.

Charles was an attractive man. With messy blond hair that he always ran his fingers through. It made him look younger, not that he was old. His blue eyes were always so bright. If my father wasn't so against fraternizing with 'the help', I would let him hit it for free.

"Your father says he's caught up at work so we'll be having dinner together." She said whilst pushing open the door. "What would you like to eat tonight?"

"I'm not really hungry," my stomach lets out a low growl, nearly exposing me.

"Are you sure?" A deep frown settled between her perfect brows. "You haven't eaten since this morning."

"I know but-"

"Venessa, you if you don't eat we'll have to-"

"Mum, I know, I know. I just, I'm not hungry. I'll eat later." I tried to explain.

"Well, okay then. Just don't forget our agreement." She kissed my forehead and looked down at me. "Your room is on the second floor, third room on the left. All your things are already in there."

I trudged upstairs, my shoulders clenching in pain. Fuck, it's been a long day. After getting lost twice, the white walls just all look the same, I finally found my room.

The room was dark and chilly. I flicked on the lights whilst rubbing my arms, trying to rid them of goosebumps. The room was spacious. Its floor was carpeted like the rest of the second floor. The gray walls bare. A large bed covered in a black duvet. There was a white desk right beside a big window that had white curtains draped in front of it. There was also a walk-in closet that had all my clothing packed neatly and colour co-ordinated.

This place may be flawless, some might even sacrifice their life savings for it, but it just doesn't feel right. I launched myself onto the soft bed and let out a shaky breath. I turned onto my side and curl into a ball.

"I want to go back," I said to myself. "I want him back." The tears flowed freely and seeped into my duvet. I let my eyes flutter closed and sleep consume me.

-

I forced myself out of bed early on Sunday morning. I spent the rest of Friday and Saturday cooped up in my room in an attempt to avoid my mother. It wasn't hard, she was in her office majority of the time.

I took a quick shower, dried my hair and decided to let it hang loose. I stood in front of my vast variety of clothing in just a white bath robe.

"What the fuck am I going to wear," I murmured to myself.

I mean, I do want to make a great first impression. Then again I don't want to stand out. I need to blend in if I want this year to sail smoothly.

"Fucking hell," I hissed. After many failed attempts at putting together a decent outfit I sat on the floor, defeated. Well, there's only one thing left to do.