“Times will come when men will try to tear you apart like a delicate flower. Teach you things like you will be an adolescent for the rest of your life,” Helena mutters, combing my hair from behind. I sit in front, on the small stool, listening to her words.
“That doesn’t mean they know more than you ever will. They will order and control you,” I feel the wooden ends of the brush massaging my scalp, “but you just let them blow by and lift your face up with pride and power as you do whatever the hell you want to do.”
I turn my head sideways, looking at her illuminated figure by the fireplace before asking, “But why? Won’t you be there for me?”
She turns my face forward and gathers my long, black hair in her hands as she starts to braid it. “Someday you are going to be all alone. Nobody to look up to but yourself. So, you will have to find a way to take care of yourself without being a pawn to the world.”
After finishing styling my hair like she does every night, I feel her soft hands cupping my shoulders.
“It’s better to be alone, Agatha. That way you will feel safe around yourself because trusting someone else is like putting yourself into the dens of the devil.”
I jolt awake from a sudden bump. I’m in the car with Tristen as we drive down the gravel road. His side is filled with the vast, uncountable trees of the forest, while my side faces the ocean. The atmosphere feels too suffocating so I roll down the window.
The cold breeze fans my cheeks, my hair running wild with it. I’ve missed this so much. We take many things in life for granted that are easily found in our daily lives. But we understand it’s true value when it is taken away.
Why is that the case? Why can’t we appreciate the things we don’t even deserve, every now and then?
We are mortal fools indeed.
Tristen halts the car near the Vailburg shipping dock where the heavy crashing of the ocean waves surrounds us. The winter fog shrouds upon the ocean, blocking the beauty of it. Frowning, I look at him as he stares straight ahead of him at the empty road. His grip tightening on the steering wheel of his Chevrolet that his father gifted him on his wedding day.
I still remember that day as he whisked away my elder sister, Helena, in his arms, both of them laughing like the happy couple they were. She waved me a goodbye before they both headed for their honeymoon. But little did I know that was the last time I would see Helena smile.
Tristen’s Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps and lets out an exhausted sigh. “I don’t want to do this to you, Agatha.”
He is wearing a black suit with a gray tie. His hair perfectly styled back, as always. He has been a perfectionist since day one, but I guess marriage was the only thing he wasn’t so good at.
“But I am doing it for your sister. She would want me to take care of you,” he faces me with a pitiful frown and caresses my hair, “You need to get better for her.”
I remain silent, watching a ship floating beside the wooden deck. But suddenly, I notice the place is nearly vacant unlike the usual crowded times. The fog is thick and heavy, but I can hear faint footsteps coming from the back.
Tristen cups my jaw to face him with a softening gaze.
“I’m sorry, Agatha. But there is no other option left.”
Suddenly, I hear the door on my side open, sending an electric charge through my body. Before I can contemplate what is happening, two strong hands grip my arms, nearly digging into my skin, as I’m pulled out of the car.
Horror dawns at me and my eyes dart at Tristen to help me. But the bastard is calmly sitting, staring forward. I open my mouth to scream for help but that chance is taken away by those same pair of hands as it clasps over my lips. I thrash against his hold when suddenly another man comes in and holds my legs, helping my captor.
The man in front of me wears a black coverall with his face being hidden by the white vendetta mask. We reach the dock side, where a boat behind the ship catches my sight. Another man in the same attire is already waiting as the men throw me to him. He catches me and I take that chance to scream at the top of my lungs for help. It is ear-piercing even to me and I almost plan to jump out of the boat to swim away.
“Help! Help me! Someone!” I scream.
The boat trembles when the one who held my arms jumps on it and grasps my jaw. Pulling out a huge, shiny knife he points the tip right at my throat.
My body turns still like a statue with fear clawing my nerves. His face is also hidden with the mask but yet I can feel his warmth close to my face.
“Done with screaming?” his muffled, gruff voice asks.
I remain silent.
He tilts his head sideways, digging the knife a bit more against my racing pulse. “One more word from that pretty little mouth and I’ll stab the blade right through your throat.”
The coldness and emptiness in his voice sent chills down my spine. It feels like it doesn’t matter if I live or die before wherever he is taking me. He let go of my jaw before presenting his hand to the other man who passed him an injection.
The tears I have been holding back, leak from my eyes as the memories of being injected several times flash in front of me.
“Shedding tears won’t save you, little girl,” he mutters, bringing the needle close to my arms. My body starts to shiver from the cold and fear. Adrenaline rushing through my spine like never before.
He leans closer when I feel the light prickle of the needle against my skin as he presses the syringe. “The least you fight, the easier it will be for you. Trust me.”
Trust him? Trust a man who is holding my life like a loose thread?
Never. And yet, something about those last two words of his holds a promise.
A promise that I’m unaware of and still wanted to believe deep down. Soon that same feeling of my numbing nerves return. My eyes start to become drowsy and I know I’m going to hit my head on the boat’s plank as I will fall sideways, but I no longer have control over my body.
“Let’s go. We don’t have much time left,” the man orders as the rest of his words start to fade away.
The world tilts around me as my body leans sideways but the hit on my head never comes. Instead, a hand cups my head, protecting me from getting hurt before gently guiding me down. But before I can see who it is, my vision turns black.
HIM
I gently place her head down while I question myself why I even bothered saving herself from hurting. I’m the one who will be hurting her and ruining her to the depths of her innocent soul.
“Is she out?” one of the new guys asks.
I simply nod my response. “Head straight to our destination.”
Both of them get to work as we start to make our way back to the living hell our new guest will be welcomed in. I sit down, removing my mask and letting out a deep sigh, feeling my heart still pounding from the adrenaline rush I faced a few moments ago.
It never crossed my mind that this is what my life will be as a thirty-seven year old. But this life chose me, not the other way around. I am a slave to my own fate where darkness shackled my soul and heart.
I look towards the horizon with the breeze touching my scruffed cheeks. I run a hand through my hair as my gaze shifts towards the girl who is going to be imprisoned like me.
She already is as she is with you.
My eyes take upon her features, looking at her pale skin that I’m itching to touch just to feel the softness. Her black hair is dark as the night that is caressing her cheeks, with few strands touching her closed eyes. She looks beautiful…just like an angel. Just her beauty is making my nerves rush faster and my heart pound harder.
But that isn’t going to save her or change her fate. I will be the devil who will rip off her wings and become her downfall.
Be prepared, angel. Be prepared.
