All Alone

Chapter 3

I sat on my bed for a while, savoring the moment maybe?  Victoria had left the room,  she said she was going to make dinner. Getting up off the bed, I couldn't help staring at my reflection. My eyes were still dull and lifeless,  but change can't happen overnight. Or over the course of two hours.  They still might hurt me, I am not out of the woods yet, and I won't be safe until I am emancipated, living on my own. Taking out some fresh clothes and my makeup arsenal, I search for the nearest bathroom. Maybe I should've paid more attention to the tour.

My feet were silent as I padded down the hall,  trying to recall what Victoria said about the bathroom.  Eventually, I found the door to the evasive latrine,  which was right across the hall from my bedroom. I'm an idiot. Opening the door I cautiously stepped onto the tile, surveying the marble masterpieces. This whole house was a work of art. My fingers grazed the bronzed fixtures, turning on the shower and preparing the water. Slipping out of the clothes that reeked of stress and sadness I slipped into the glass enclosure, scrubbing away my fears. The shampoo smelled like kiwi and lime, and I slathered on similar conditioner desperately. I needed the memories to stop. They never stopped.

He looks down at me, His eyes glimmering with malice. I know that He's speaking, but everything is muffled. Are my ears covered? Was I drugged? He walks closer, darkening every surrounding object with His mere presence, I think He's laughing? Why though, why would He be doing this?

Cold water shocked me into the present. How long had I been lost in my memories? Turning off the water, I step onto the now damp bath mat, savoring the feel of the material between my toes. Within moments I had shrugged into my flannel pajamas, buttoning up the shirt with fluid motions I reveled in the new set Victoria had laid out for me. I never got to wear such concealing clothing to bed. 

Glancing into the mirror I remember why I have so much makeup, circular scars litter my arms, a reminder of the twins unhealthy lung killing addiction. Soulless eyes accompanied by bags bore into the mirror, and a deep scar on my chest, separated from the world by a piece of fabric. I couldn't see it at the moment, but I will always know it's there. On the other hand, the stitching on my neck was plain as day. I usually wore scarves and chokers in public.

Wearing makeup to bed is always risky, but with the right brands and proper technique, it can be done. I have perfected this task. After applying my face, it is simple to sneak back into my bedroom. There is no reason that I should go down to dinner unless Victoria herself specifically requests it, I doubt she will. I have skipped meals plenty of times, though usually not by choice. 

There is so much going on outside of her- my house, a party seems to be raging on a couple streets down. The music is deafening even through the window, sometimes I fear that I am almost too indifferent to the normal desires of teenagers. Shouldn't I long to be apart of such activities? At this age, I should've been experimenting, making bad decisions for myself, not be forced into unspeakable horrors. I would've been such a chatter box had I not sealed away my will to speak, now I ramble on, amusing myself without uttering a sound. I have a problem.

The sun had set while I was contemplating the meaning of my existence, so there was no use in staying up any longer. I hadn't seen any males in this house yet, and though it may sound foolish, I somewhat trust Victoria. Theoretically, this means I can go to sleep in any position, and sleep through the night. Theoretically. Nothing ever really goes how I want it to. Sinking further into the sheets, I let my eyelids flutter shut, the threads of the waking world slipping out of my grasp.

***

The Next Morning...

"Avianna! Breakfast is ready honey!" I heard the door open, and the giggles of an unsupervised child, but I didn't hear the panting dog. I woke up to my face getting coated in a thick layer of dog saliva, if it had been any other animal, it would be dead. The girl that escorted the husky into my room was Victoria's oldest, Claire. The kindergartner, Chris, followed behind them, he was keeping a watchful eye on the husky that according to its tag had been named Icee. Wiping the slobber off of my face, I let out a relieved sigh since no makeup had been removed. Slowly sitting up, I cautiously get a handle on my bearings.

"Avi, mommy wants you to join us for breakfast!" Claire spoke with a soft, but energetic tone, maybe Victoria had cautioned her? Nodding slightly, I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and make a move to get to the bathroom. We file out of the room one by one, Icee led the charge. While they continued down the hallway and descended the stairs, I broke off from the procession and slid into the bathroom, my change of clothes and make-up bag sit on the counter where I placed them last night. Sighing, I get to work.

After putting on the layers of now unnoticeable concealer, I added some mascara and eyeliner. I can't do a cat eye worth crap so there weren't that many variations on this look; eyelashes and waterline, that's it. After popping the cap back on the eye kohl, I slid into the outfit and inspected my choice.

Black and white floral leggings hugged my slender calves, the patterned pants disappeared underneath a gray T-shirt dress that complimented my eyes. As fake as it was, I had an image to maintain no matter where I went. Nobody could know what has happened, either they will add onto the problems or pity me, and I personally hate both. Lacing up my black Doc Martens, I looked in the mirror again, the same haunted eyes greeted me. Quickly brushing my hair I leave it in my natural wavy look. After grabbing my red jacket and some chap-stick, I exit the bathroom and head down to breakfast, I need food.

The breakfast nook was lively and bustling with activity, mainly caused by Victoria. She was running around stuffing sandwiches into lunch boxes and buttering toast, while Chris and Claire noisily slurped their Danimals(these are children's yogurt drinks). As soon as my right foot hit the last step the trio stopped what they were doing and gave me the same grin, Icee bounded over to me happily, nipping at my palm. Smiling down at the dog I walked into the kitchen, if this family was going to put in an effort, the least I could do is return the favor. Slipping into a rhythm with Victoria, I help her finish off the lunches.

*** 

Hey Y'all! The next update should come up really soon since I am starting to understand where I am going with the story, so please don't pester me about that (not that anyone reads this book).

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