Don't Worry Darling

Good Girl

Population Count: 132- 'Good Girl'

My eyelids weakly part, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights above me. It doesn't take me long to realise where I am, home. Buried under the cotton covers, afraid to sit up in fear of getting a migraine that I can already feel. My heartbeat pounding in my head. Pulsing.

I look to my left and there he is. Sitting on an armchair with a newly lit cigarette dangling from his fuchsia lips. He's reading today's newspaper. Or yesterdays. I don't even know what day it is. His brown curls slicked back neatly except for a strand at the front. His emerald eyes and fair skin. Freckles scattered on his cheeks. So picturesque.

A sight for sore eyes. He's perfect. So were we.

He takes a moment to acknowledge my conscious state. He takes the cigarette with his left hand and drops the newspaper on the floor, landing by his fresh dress shoes. He leans over and kisses me, leaving the stale taste of tobacco on my lips.

"Hi darling, glad you're awake," he purrs alluringly in my ear.

"Morning." I croak, in a weary voice.

"I think you've had a bit too much sun. Frank said He found you outside, practically passed out on the lawn. You must've caught a bit of heat stroke."

I glance at his eyes, riddled with confusion. I don't remember much, but I definitely don't remember being outside the house. I was near the HeadQuarters. That much I do know.

"No, I-I wasn't on the lawn. I was nearby the..." I stop myself, quickly recalling that the HQ is out of bounds and that I shouldn't have been there. Trespassing. "I was just, out," I add, coolly.

"Out? You didn't go outside the neighbourhood. You just stayed at home, doing housework, like you're supposed to do." He said to me, rather condescendingly.

I was taken aback by his remark. He was almost pushing me to believe him. Like I don't have a mind of my own, and he wouldn't stop until I agreed with him. Agreed with him about what I was doing.

"No, Jack. I went out on a trip. I took the shuttle bus, all the way to the hills."

"Alice. You're not listening to me. Pull yourself together. You were lying on the ground outside our house. You didn't go anywhere. You did as you were told, like a good girl."

My fists clench and my jaw tightened. I wanted to argue back but, he was driving me insane. Gaslighting me. He's turning into Him. He thinks He's superior, divine. Not Jack, no, he could and never will be Him. He's a relentless, manipulative misogynist. Jack's too caring.

I hold onto my emotions, rage writhing inside me. I do as I've been told. Because I'm a 'good girl' as they like to put it.

Good Girl.