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After a while, Ms. Maria comes out of the kitchen and ushers me back to my little hut, where I'm free until lunch, where I’ll be escorted back to the dining room. The same routine happens at dinner. In between meals, I can wander around the property. I choose not to, instead going back into my room and going back to sleep. I still hope that I'll wake up and this all be a bad dream.
At night, before I fall asleep, I move my bed aside and grab the rock that’s been shoved underneath. With as much force as possible, I scrape a heavy line down the wall, low enough that it’ll be hidden by the bedframe. Another tally. Another day of my life trapped in this hell. How many more tallies will I create before I'm able to leave? I imagine this entire wall filled with thin, uneven scores from my jagged rock. A mural of tallies. The thought is both humorous and depressing. If my days are correct, today is the last day of my fifteenth birthday. It hasn’t gone differently than any of the others. I just wish I would have known it was my last day as myself. I wish I would’ve known that tomorrow would be the day that changed me forever.
I slide underneath my cold sheets, crying silently as sleep takes me hostage again with another nightmare filled dream. I dream of a monstrosity of a house and a man who lives in it. He holds the key to my freedom, only he eats it with his breakfast, keeping me trapped within the walls of this hell until I take my last breath.
* * *
I wakeup to the sound of my front door shutting. Before I can even open my eyes, I can sense the difference that today will bring. My eyelids crack open, and I bring my hands up to rub the sleep out of my eyes. Once my vision clears, I can see Ms. Maria rummaging through my closet. As if sensing I’m awake, she glances over her shoulder. A happy, yet stiff smile covers her face.
"Good morning, Ms. Ivy. Happy Birthday."
My chest pangs. What are my parents thinking right now? My friends? The thought of not being able to spend the day with them makes my heart cry. But the child still living inside me has a beat of excitement festering underneath my grim reality.
It’s my birthday.
"Thank you." I rasp as I stretch and listen as my bones crack. Maybe I will get the day off. An entire day where I don't have to see Santiago?Thatwould be a dream.
"We must get you dressed. Big day for the birthday girl." She says with her head halfway into my closet. Her large, round backside sticks in the air and I nearly snicker. When her head pops back out, she straightens her black dress with one hand and her other hand lifts my outfit for the day.
My smile drops.
Ms. Maria's smile turns pained, as if she knows everything of what's to come. "Come on, Ms. Ivy. No time to waste."
"I could run, you know. It's my birthday. Would you honestly stop me?" I sit up, and like every day, my feet press into the cold ground, and today a shiver breaks out on my entire body.
Her eyes turn cold and she stands to her full height, her chest pushing out in defense. "You know I can't let you do that, Ivy. Don't do anything stupid. Out of all the mistakes you may make in your life, defying Santiago will always be the one you regret the most."
My instinct to flee drains from my body with her words. I can feel my body deflate in hopelessness. I don't know what my punishment would be, but the look on her face makes me realize it's not something I want to find out.
She shakes the outfit in front of her, and I finally get a good glance at what she's holding. "Come on now, breakfast is served."
I grab the outfit from her and slip it on. She doesn't give me the privacy and turn around. She stays where she is, arms folded in front of her chest as she appraises the fit of my outfit. "Perfect." She says with a tight smile. I have a feeling she knows something that I don’t.
My eyes drop to my outfit, seeing the deep purple satin dress that hugs my small curves. Above the waist the satin turns to lace, and with no bra given to me I can make out my nipples. It doesn’t have a strip of fabric on the inside of the dress, concealing what shouldn’t be seen. This dress bares it all.
I look up at Ms. Maria, uncomfortable and confused. "Why am I wearing this? This looks like an outfit for a fancy dinner, not breakfast with Santiago."
I glance towards her hands as she wrings them together, squeezing them over and over again.Why?
“I’m uncomfortable wearing this.” I point directly at my chest.
She has the gall to look remorseful. "This is what has been requested. It is not up to me, Ms. Ivy. Now, please, let’s go before we are late." She hands me shoes that thankfully don't have too high of a heel on them. Once they're strapped across my feet, she wraps her arm around my back and ushers me out of the room.
I shield my eyes from the sun as we walk towards Santiago's house. It's another hot day. The dry air is so much different than Ohio. My skin cracked and my lips were constantly chapped my first month, not used to the low humidity and dry air sucking the life from me.
As per usual, Ms. Maria ushers me into the into the dining area. Santiago is already seated, reading his paper. He glances up as I walk in, his eyebrows lifting in pleasure as he appraises my outfit. Pushing his chair back, he stands and walks over to me.
"Ivy, you look wonderful." His trim form walks over to me like he’s walking on water. His dark navy suit molds to every muscle in his body. The darkness in his eyes is even more endless than usual. There is an extra evil lurking in his irises.
He presses his hand onto the small of my back as he walks me to my chair. This is the first time he's touched me since that first night, and it feels like where he's placed his hand petrifies, turning to stone. It feels like my skin dies from his touch. I can feel his maliciousness penetrating my dress and seeping into my skin. His touch feels rotten to the core. A bad apple. This man reeks with bad intent.
I’m ushered to my chair, letting out an internal sigh as his hand releases my back. He walks to his chair and sits down, staring at me heavily with his dark gaze. "Happy Birthday. The big sixteen. How do you feel? Any different?" His eyes drop to my chest even as his hands lift the newspaper. They don't stray from my breasts. Well, my nipples, specifically, which feel exposed under his gaze. I'm worried they're poking through the lace material, but I'm too much of a wimp to glance down and check.
"How did you know it's my birthday?" Is what rolls off my tongue. Why, I don't know. But he doesn't seem to like the lilt of snark that went into my sentence.
He folds his newspaper and sets it aside. Clucking his tongue, he speaks sharply. "You will come to realize there are many things that I know about you, Ivy."
"Why, though? Why choose me? I've been sitting here for months. Doing nothing. Can't I go home? I just want to go home." My eyes water and I wipe away the tear before he can see it fall.
