I lay on the bed looking at the ceiling, thinking about my demons, the ones that haunt me in my dreams. I am thankful for all the drama that happened today because I didn't have time to think about my horrible memories. 25th of June, the day my innocence got ripped from me. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Every year, when this time of the year comes—I feel dirty. Today, the 25th of June. I still remember his voice. I don't think I will ever forget it. The whole reason I started writing; to get everything out of my chest. Everything I wrote in my book 'Behind Closed Doors' is based on my life, though people might think its fiction. It's now the best-selling novel, and people don't even know my actual name. Only Nora and Shawn know about it, and they also think is fiction. No one else knows the author behind those words. If I wasn't such a coward, I would have studied English lit at the university, but I didn't.
My mind takes me back to those horrible memories. I was at a party, still young, and wanted to enjoy my youth and not just sit in my dorm room at the boarding school reading all the time, but me sneaking out came with consequences.
I remember him grabbing me and pushing me into the dark alley. His dark blue eyes haunt me every time in my sleep. I begged him to let me go, but he didn't even listen. He kept on ripping my clothes off. He had his way with me and left me there, dirty, bloody, and unable to move.
I suddenly felt dirty at the thought of him touching me. I rush to the bathroom and run a bath. I get into the bathtub and fold my long black hair into a bun. I wash every corner of my body repeatedly, tears running down my cheeks. Ever since then, I have dated no one or wanted anything to do with boys. I hate that guy for taking what didn't belong to him. I hate him for making me feel worthless. Writing that book felt like I was having therapy sessions. Sometimes I think I'm living two different lives and I don't know which one defines me.
Who am I?
I have been asking myself this question for the past four years now. I wince in pain and realise that I have been washing the same spot, and now I have hurt myself. I dry myself with a towel—quickly put on my silk pajamas and brush my teeth. I release my hair and run my hand through it.
I check the time, it's 2:30 am. I lie on the bed, cover myself, and look at the ceiling as if it will give me the answers I need and finally drift into a deep sleep at 4:30 am.
****
The light coming through the balcony wakes me up. I groan as I pull the duvet up to cover my face. After a while, I drag myself out of bed and make my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a quick shower.
I put on a pair of black jeans and a white hoodie, is 7 am when I finish. I walk out of the room and pad to the kitchen.
Carmen is having coffee with Nate, Andrew, and Nana sitting around the kitchen island. She looks pale today, like she is sick or something.
"Morning," I say, and they all turn to look at me. Carmen stands up from her seat and comes to hug me. She drags me to take a seat next to her. Nana prepares coffee for me.
"How did you sleep?" Her question makes me think about yesterday.
How did I sleep, really?
"Good, thank you." I lie.
"You look beautiful, sister-in-law," Nate compliments.
"Thank you."
"Where is Tay?" Carmen asks her sons.
"He is in his room. I think he has been up the whole night," Andrew tells Carmen and takes a sip from his coffee mug.
"He is a workaholic. He will get sick if he doesn't stop working like this, anyway?" she turns to me.
"What are you going to do now that you got your degree, Olivia?" Carmen asks.
"Um... look for a job." I lie. I don't care about the damn degree. All I want to do is write about my entire life. She doesn't know that I am a published author, and I would like to keep it that way. I'm not ready for people to ask me questions about the book yet. It will open old wounds that are still recovering.
"I know an excellent hospital. I'm sure they will be thrilled to have you; your results speak for themselves." Carmen suggests.
"That would be great." I lie again.
"I thought that maybe we could have breakfast together, get to know each other better?" Carmen suggests.
"Of course, let me go grab my bag." I put the coffee mug on the kitchen counter and hurry back to my room, grab my black shoulder bag and walk out of the room.
I hear a deep, angry voice dominating the entire living room as I walk down the staircase. I come into view with an angry Tay. He is talking to someone on the phone and looks pissed.
"What the hell Danny?" He yelled at the person on the other line. I stand at the bottom of the stairs, observing.
"I cannot believe this! When I tell you to do something, you do it. I don't run a school where you leave homework at home and the only punishment you get is detention. I run a fucking company and excuses are the last thing I need!" He doesn't hesitate to throw his phone at the wall. He runs his hand through his hair, grabs his jacket, files, laptop bag, and walks toward the door that leads to the garage.
"What the hell was that?" I'm still looking at Tay, who is now opening the door to the garage.
"I told you he needs to go to anger management classes," Nate says calmly and grabs his car keys from the couch.
"Am I the only who is shocked here!"
"Don't worry sister-in-law you will get used to it," Nate says, placing his arm over my shoulder and before I can respond, Carmen walks in.
"Ready?" Carmen asks, and I nod.
"Don't tell me that this is Tay's phone?" Carmen asks, but it seems like she already knows the answer to her question because she just sighs and grabs her bag.
****
Carmen and I arrive at the same restaurant that I punched Ria in. We take a seat on the table at the corner where you can see anyone who walks in. A waiter comes to take our order and Carmen orders a French toast with orange juice and I go with pancakes and coffee.
"I spoke to your parents, and we agreed that the wedding will be in three weeks. I know it's too soon, but you don't know how happy you made me when you agreed to marry my son."
When I was forced to marry your son.
"Me too." Note the sarcasm.
"I'm dying, Olivia, and I want to see all my sons happy before it's too late. God knows how much I love my sons, but they are clueless about choosing the right women. I have a brain tumor, and there's nothing the doctors can do for me anymore. Tay, however, hasn't accepted the situation. He keeps on looking for specialists in my case. I wish he could stop. All I want to do is spend time with my family." She informs me, and I can't help but feel sorry for her.