The Book Of Anna & English

23 - Mirror

Hello lovely little ducks! Here you go!!

Triggers:

- Mother

- Mentioning of suicidal thoughts

- Signs of an anxiety attack

***

Keeper doesn't want to hold my secrets anymore.

***

Anna

As he walks away, she slowly breaks a smile, the skies are blue, haven't been for a while.

The big red letters, the color close to that of blood, paint splatters from sudden movements on the once bright white garage door. Like a beacon, it stands out for the whole street to see, an unwanted sign. Your daughter is a whore.

Bile rises in my throat, my hand clutching at my shirt collar, suffocating under the immense pressure. My hands shake as I search my pocket for my house keys, but it falls out of my grip. Harry bends down, picks it up, and presses the remote, the garage door disappearing before me. Is a whore.

The automated door moves painfully slowly, the cables clicking one by one as the opening gets bigger; my eyes can't move away from the image in front of me. Whore.

Then it's gone.

But not erased from my mind.

"Anna Rose."

My eyes drift to Harry, sadness etched on his face. "Come on, let's get you inside." He steers me by the shoulder, my eyes holding the space where the door was until I have to look away.

"He won't get away with it," Harry says with conviction as he turns the door, gesturing for me to go first. I move to the couch, falling down with my head in my hands, numb and overwhelmed at the same time, unable to comprehend why someone would do this. The couch dips next to me, arms pulling me in by the waist, my head landing on Harry's chest. "I don't want you to handle this; we should leave it."

Harry lifts my chin with his thumb. "I can't sit back and watch someone do this to you. Look at how it's affecting you; you're white as a ghost." He fights me, the same anger he had before bubbling up again.

"Can we just leave it for now?" He sighs and nods. "Why don't you go upstairs, get some sleep? I'll handle the garage door." He says, looking out the window, my gaze moving there too.

It's dawn, the sun just starting to rise, and I feel irritated that such a perfect day has been trademarked by paint on a door, boys who don't know about boundaries. We share the somewhat peaceful moment for a long time. Harry holding me while we look out the window. "Thank you, Harry." He has a fond expression on his face. "No need to thank me." He stands up, kissing my forehead, and disappears out the front door, all the while I'm sitting on the couch, frozen, the impact hitting me hard from all sides.

My lead-filled feet struggle to get up the stairs. Eventually, every step feels like I'm climbing a mountain; my body burns from anger and exhaustion. The yellow door stares back at me, even in the dimly lit hallway. I turn on my heels, pushing the opposite door open. The bedside lamp goes on, Liam's tired voice and sleepy eyes. "Oliver, that you?" He asks, clearing his throat.

"It's me, Anna. Can you just hold me for a little bit?" I fold my arms around myself; the room is cold, the air conditioning on full blast. "Of course, come on." He flips the comforter open, patting the empty space in front of him. His arms wrap around me the moment I lay down, wiping the hair away from him, over the pillow.