Places, places, get in your places
Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces,
Everyone thinks that we're perfect
Please don't let them look through the curtains.
-Melanie Martinez
A T H A L I A
What if I die today? I won't be able to see tomorrow.
"Alina, do you want to swim?" the fifteen-year-old boy asked, watching me staring at the swimming pool.
"I don't know how to. What if I drown?" There was nervousness in my voice while he chuckled and gave me his hand.
"Then I'm here to rescue you." He is not; it's only me who can keep me safe.
My eyes opened, a suffocating weight pressed against my chest. I could hear the rhythm of my heart mixing with the symphony of water. Bubbles of air escaped, leaving my desperate yearning for breath.
I held my breath, stretching my arms. There was someone in the basement. I knew the art of surviving, but did she? Sunlight filtered through the water, casting rays around me. As I swam deeper, the colors morphed into blue, green, and blood.
I saw her-a figure moving in distress, desperately fighting against the water's relentless pull. Every kick and pull became a lifeline; the effort to reach her felt like a battle against time. The surroundings blurred into a mix of currents and shadow. With each passing meter, I finally reached her.
The lady's hands were cuffed with an iron bar. I freed them using my metal claws and wrapped my arms around her struggling form. The sun rays hit her eyeballs when she opened her eyes, that familiar blue color. It couldn't be her. She grabbed my hand, and we both swam up to the surface.
I took a deep breath, emerging out of the water. Maya pulled us up to the airship, which was nearly floating on the water. My wet body shivered from the coldness of early morning, the saline taste on my tongue. I smelled like a fish. The lady tripped when she tried to stand, moving in an anxious manner, a mix of worry and relief in her eyes.
Vivene handed me a towel, "We're going to Heli-Bastion; the situation here will be handled by the rescue team." Her gaze landed on the lady, whom I was staring at, and her eyes widened. "How? Impossible." There was a loss of expression on Vivene's face.
I squeezed her hand, stopping her from saying anything to the lady. She was already nervous and filled with horror. "Don't say anything ridiculous in front of her; she might take time to understand the situation. Firstly, inform Mr. Hanniel about her." I ordered Vivene, and she gave me a nod.
"Madam," I waved my hand in front of her eyes, grabbing her attention. She was fully soaked in water. "Your name?" I asked casually, handing her a towel, keeping this conversation at ease.
Her hands shook before grabbing the towel from my hand. "Zaria" This is her. The name, the look, those eyes-everything is the same as he described to me. To relax her down, I started with normal questions, guiding her inside. She still looked so freaked out.
"Madam, if you don't mind, you need to change your clothes. You're wet, and some bandages would help your wounds." Vivene suggested the same for me. We walked inside the cabin, and I dressed in a casual grey t-shirt and black cargo pants; thankfully, there were no injuries on my body, just a little scratch on my forehead. When I came back, Vivene gave me a look of pity.
"What happened?" I asked, putting on the black jacket of G.U.A.R.D. Our eyes traveled to Madam Zaria, who was now dressed in a pastel purple long dress, her hair still wet, cuts around her soft hands, and her eyes staring at the floor. I can't describe how beautiful she is. Even after living among those monsters, she still looks like an angel. "She is not letting me treat her wounds." Vivene whispered.
"Because she must've experienced sexual assault trauma, and you look more like a boy, Vivene. I usually deal with these types of women; I can tell by her look." Maya whispered from behind. "Let me try," I grabbed the first aid box from her hand.
I bent down while Zaria was playing with her fingers. "Madam, shall I?" I asked her, showing the first aid box, and she gave me a nod. She flinched when my fingers touched her skin; she started shaking. "Who are you?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the logo of the agency on my jacket.
"I'm the leader of the emergency rescue team, ma'am." I kept it simple and short. She shook her head. "No, that logo, are you from G.U.A.R.D's operation team?" Her voice was impatient, asking the question like a 5-year-old, Her blue eyes were the same as her son's, deep like the ocean. But they didn't give me the same feeling; the ones I get when I look at Cade's eyes. His eyes remind me of a kind of dirty dark magic, but his mother's eyes are the exact opposite. They have the color of the sky after rain, peaceful and naive.
"Yes, madam, I am from G.U.A.R.D." A slow smile came to her face, eager to ask more questions. I was not sure if I should be answering her; I believe it's her husband's duty. I don't want to tell her things that may upset her, so I play the fool.
"It's done, ma'am. We'll soon reach the capital-ship. We can give you proper therapy and a check-up there." I replied, getting up, but she held my hand. "Who is the chief of your agency?" she asked. "Mr. Lewis Hanniel, ma'am," and a sigh of relief escaped her lips.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"How dare you not let me meet her!" Lewis roared at me, his voice dripping with emotions, his face covered in frustration.
"She needs to go through inspection and therapy first. I'm not stopping you; you can meet her after that," I replied in the same tone.
"Those things will take time, and I can't wait any longer." Human nature is like this. Even the rudest person can be swayed by the desire for emotions, and the capacity for thinking right or wrong gets blinded by the mask of enthusiasm-a small spark of hope after a long time.
"Meeting her suddenly after 11 years, plus she has mental disturbances right now. Do you think it would help? Her body is consumed by anxiety and past traumas. She is not even letting anyone touch herself. If your presence can do something around her right now, it is only to worsen the situation by bringing her flashbacks.
Just listen once to me, sir, for your wife's sake. I'm here for her comfort. It's a matter of just 24 hours. You've waited 11 years and want to ruin it for just 24 hours?"
He lowered his head. I wonder if he is crying; I've never seen him in this much melancholy before. He sniffed, saying, "I'll let Cade know. It would be the best birthday present for him. Sorry for shouting like this."
Before going out, he looked back at me. "Thank you for bringing my life back, Athalia. You deserve a promotion."
Wait! Did he just talk about a promotion? And Cade's birthday? How far I forget about my Theiona. Shit! I grab my phone to call Cade, but his line was busy, so instead, I called Aunt May. Hopefully, everything is alright, and Theiona didn't cause much trouble for anyone.
"Ms. Nova, are you in charge of Mrs. Hanniel's inspections?" A staff handed me her medical reports. Her ankle is sprained, and she is suffering from a major migraine. As for her assault reports, the beasts have torn her up from the inside-11 years, and I can't even imagine what they possibly did to her. Yet she is still alive. I think she knows the art of surviving better than me.
"Hand these papers to Mr. Hanniel; I need to conduct Mrs. Hanniel's examination about her past events." And believe me, this is the toughest part.
Lewis favored Zaria's stay in his cabin so that she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. She was sitting on the couch with a photo frame in her hand, asking, "Miss, is he my...?" She pointed at the photo of Cade, surprised but with a look of pride and admiration too. It may amaze her to see her son, whom she left as a small teenage boy, now a fully mature man.
"I'd prefer to be called Athalia, Mam. And yes, he is your son." I replied, picking up the pen from the table and taking a seat beside her.
"He is so grown up," Zaria said, running her fingers through the frame. Her face showed the same glimpse when Cade talks about her - with a lot of love and affection. For a second, her warm smile disappeared as she asked,
"Where is my husband?"
"Mam, you can meet him after you're out of these inspections. It would take just a few hours; believe me, you are completely safe here. We don't want you to rush into anything. I have to ask you some questions which may upset you." Her eyebrows frowned. "May I start now?" I asked, and she nodded her head in agreement.
Zaria cried, became angry, and accepted that she had attempted suicide many times but failed.
"Not just once, they used my body as much as they wanted to. I'm not sure if Lewis will still want me after figuring out several men had me, every night a new one. They kept me alive because they needed my skills and technological abilities. When I didn't work, they used to rip my clothes, leaving me... I feel contagious now; whenever someone touches me, it feels like I'm in an unending combustion."
Her statement still rings in my head. She walked through the fire and shadows, through a living hell, yet nothing changed in her. Her kind and innocent heart is still the same. While reading that same statement I wrote on paper, Lewis's anger flushed in his veins, but he stayed silent, and I don't know if this is the silence before a storm.
"Go and provide Zaria with every savory meal we have in the kitchen. I'll be meeting her shortly after the meeting," ordered Lewis, getting up from his seat. "Make sure to get her ready perfectly. We'll be heading for Jaipur after 2 hours."
. . . . . . . . . . . .
My eyes wandered to the stall around street as our car drove past through them, my colourful shiffon saree was playing with wind along with my hairs. The shining jhumkas, pani-puri stalls, and my favourite samosa freshly coming out from the kadahi.
No, now I don't want to go out to a mall I'll rather come to this place. Madam Zaria who is beside me stayed quite most of the time, Lewis asked her many times if she is comfortable and in reply she just hummed. I don't know if things between them went well or not, but the stillness is speaking something else.
Soon we pulled over to that haweli where everyone is staying, the sunset was such a aesthetic, hitting the marble of the courtyard it felt like I am in a Pinterest world. The colourful bougainvillea leaves falling on the floor and the water from fountain providing calmness in this mid-summer, the spring is really beautiful.
Aunt Mea come out with Dada and Dadi, they both had a cheerful smile on their face, but Zaria's eyes searched for someone else. "Where's Cade?" asked Lewis.
"Is she here?" An overexcited Cade asked running down the stairs, his voice brings a beaming smile to his mother's face. For a moment he halt to check whether it's reality, and then he rushed and hugged her, picking her up from ground.
The melody of their giggles filled the courtyard, when Cade made stand on her feet again she cupped his face with her both hands "My little boy is finally grown-up" said Zaria. Cade pulled her to his chest and kissed the top of her hair, her figure so small infront of him, I guess because most of the features Cade has gain is from his father.
Cade's muscular arms wrapped around his mother, refusing to let her go again. "I can't believe it, it's impossible to believe," he chuckled. The years apart melted away in tears at that moment, and the warmth of a mother's affection enveloped them.
Cade and crying?
I've never experienced this type of feelings before, would my mother react the same if we meet again? Would she pull me to her and told me that she loves me? Maybe.....
My mother, she use to pull me away from herself, my own mother- who gave birth to me. When my biological father left us, she tried to abandoned me, to kill me because she didn't wanted a burden on herself. There was never a single day she hadn't
remind me how unwanted I was.
Her words were a jab of a sharp blade, telling me that no one would ever love an ugly child like me, a douchebag, the misfortune of her life.
At the age of 7, when my lungs were defective and needed surgery to replace them, my mother and step-father didn't even give a damn to collect money. They were all so focused on buying new clothes, toys, and everything for the younger sister I had.
My uncle saved me; he paid the fees because he was the only one who cared about me in that family. An hour before the surgery, my mother asked me to die. A 7-year-old listening to her mother's wish is hoping her daughter dies, but I survived. I wanted to prove her wrong, to prove that I was worthy of her love.
But maybe I never was.
When I turned 18, my family was in debt under a mafia's wealth. It was my step-father's plan to start his own business in Nevada which didn't go well in the end. The amount he borrowed from the psycho Mafia was needed to be paid, and he went bankrupt. So, they planned to pay it off through their elder daughter. They sent me off to become his slave.
I still remember that man covered in gold with a cigarette sitting in front of my step-father. That night, I knew what monsters are actually like. That night I ran away for freedom, that night I wanted to fly like a bird set free.
I remember when he forced me onto his lap and touched my body in front of everyone. I remember I froze, couldn't help myself. My mother told me to stay still when he wanted, and my frozen body did. I wanted to burn his hands, I wanted to become fire.
I was nothing more than a contract of profit for my family.
My family, which appeared perfect in the eyes of people who never walked down to our kitchen, because of the fake plastic smile on our faces. And the best role was played by my mother, who never let anyone see Behind the curtains.