My Quiet Place

Chapter 13: Karma

Annika Remo 

It's the next day and today I'm planning to go back to my uncle's mansion to get my things. I really didn't want to go to the place where my nightmares were born. But I had no other option. I saw the world I had walked since my birth and I understood how fragile it was, that the reality was a thin layer of icing on a great dark birthday cake writhing with grubs and nightmares and hunger. 

I told Matteo about my plans and he agreed but I had to be accompanied by Mitchell and some of his men. I wasn't keen on the approach of his men travelling with me but I understand because it's for my own safety. 

I don't know where I stand with him and I don't know what I mean to him. All I know is that every time I think of him, all I wanna do is be with him. It's so strange because I don't know if he feels the same way. I hope he does, I don't want this to be one-sided. I'm scared to open up even to him or anyone in general. My worries are slowly drowning me, from the black list to my father. 

I don't know what date the black list is set on and I'm too scared to ask Matteo as a part of me wants to hide from it. Even though Matteo said he would protect me, I don't want him to risk his life for me. For a stranger.

 And my father... Some say It's painful to wait for someone. Some say it's painful to forget someone. But the worst pain comes when you don't know whether to wait or forget. 

I felt cold tears start to stream down my face as I look at myself in the mirror, not even recognising the girl from the last week. The girl that would walk into anything with a smile and confidence. The girl, that would pick up a book and finish it within an hour. The girl that would make her darkroom light up with simple things. Instead, I'm staring at a girl unsure of anything in her life. A girl who is terrified to death about the future. A girl that grieves not because of the ending in her book but rather for herself. 

Washing my face with water, I plaster a smile on my face before walking out. Annika, you are strong, you will get through this. 

"Annika, dear are you ready," Mitchell knocks. 

"Yes, I'll be there in a sec." With that I grab my bag from the bed, looking at myself once more in the mirror. I have always been the type of girl that covers most of her body. Not because of scars, the scars make me who I am. I just prefer to highlight my personality rather than my body. It's always been that way for me and it's mostly because of my cousin Carla. She symbolises everything I don't want to be. I'm not saying someone can't dress like that. At the end of the day, that's their decision and this is mine. 

Looking at my scars now, it reminds me that life is short, and I was lucky to come out of this experience alive. 

I'm never ashamed of the scars life has left me with. A scar means that the hurt is over and the wound is closed. It means I conquered the pain, learned a lesson, grew stronger, and moved forward. A scar is the tattoo of a triumph to be proud of. I will never allow my scars to hold me hostage. I won't allow them to make me live life in fear. I can't make the scars in my life disappear, but I can change the way I see them. I can start seeing my scars as a sign of strength and not pain.