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My crushed heart that was burned not too long ago resurrects from the ashes, ready to sacrifice itself at Lan’s altar or break against his harsh edges.
Everything Bran said is true.
If I look at the time I’ve spent with Lan, he’s been so adamant about caring for me and making me feel comfortable.
It’s not really about words, it’s about actions.
How the hell could I forget that he was ready to lose his wrist and his flourishing art career instead of losing me just because he didn’t say ‘I love you’?
Footsteps sound behind me and I smile to myself. Of course Lan wouldn’t leave me alone for long.
My smile freezes when I stare into the eyes of darkness I would recognize anywhere.
Any-fucking-where.
The monster from my past.
The reason why I’m forever broken is staring back at me from behind a gun.
“We meet again, Mia. I heard you’ve been saying things you shouldn’t have.”
39
MIA
Monsters take different forms in people’s imaginations.
Some see them as phantom-like figures that could be mistaken for ghosts. Others imagine them as the ghoulish beast hiding under the bed or lurking behind the closet door.
For me, a monster has always taken the form of a stern, square-faced woman with a tight auburn bun and a cruel ruler.
Over the years, she’s started to blur into images of the yellow-eyed monster who’s been creeping into every corner of my room, waiting to pounce on me.
But now that I see her face again, all memories of the wooden ruler drift back into my consciousness.
Mrs. Pratt.
She’s a short woman with a plump figure and now sagging cheeks. She’s wearing her usual black skirt and gray cardigan like a timeless figure. She was my and Maya’s nanny for years, but she quit when we were around seven years old because she wanted to take care of the family farm with her husband.
But that wasn’t the last I saw of her. No.
The person who kidnapped me? It was her. She had a male accomplice, who attacked our car, killed my bodyguard, and took me away. I suppose he was her husband, but I never saw his face in that black, dirty hole.
The only person who terrorized me to within an inch of my life was Mrs. Pratt. During the days I was there, she disciplined me with her ruler to the point I can still feel the painful blows against my flesh. While hitting me, she said she regretted not having the chance to use the ruler to ‘correct’ my behavior before. And that she knew I was asking Mom to replace her, which is why she quit before she was kicked out.
I did tell Mom that I didn’t like Mrs. Pratt, because she was so stern and no fun. I preferred someone who’d let me and Maya play instead of always focusing on our curriculum.
What was an innocent request became the reason for my childhood trauma.
People assumed my kidnapper was a man and I let them believe that, not seeing the need to correct them. All these years, my main priority was to make sure she and her dangerous husband couldn’t hurt my family.
That’s all I cared about.
That’s what I lost my voice for and why I’ve never gotten it back.
I believed that if she could kidnap me, kill our bodyguard, and nearly take Maya as well, she could do anything. Our tight security means jack shit to this woman.
Deep down, I thought maybe one day I’d get over the crippling anxiety and devastating fear I felt in the darkness of that basement.
