Captive

"Do you already have all the phones? The directions?” "Yes. Everything is written down and memorized. Don’t worry.” Chris filled her lungs and went back on the attack. "Don't be bossed around.” I laughed delightedly, although small, Chris was a true Captain America. She defended and protected without thinking about the consequences. "And keep the Bride of Chucky at bay.” We both snort trying to hide the same concern. My mom and I had a relationship… well, a relationship. Saying that she and I weren't on the same page was an understatement. My mother and I didn't belong to the same book, boy, we weren't even in the same library. "Are you going to be okay?” "Sure! Do not worry. My only regret is that you’re not going to be at the wedding.” Lie. Christine was going off to college while I was reeling in the quaint town of Great City. I was getting married in three weeks and had not seen beyond the walls my mother imposed on me. The furthest I had come was to the Salina shopping center, where I had bought my wedding garments. My deepest and most secret fear was never being able to leave here, of not seeing beyond the walls, of dying without the opportunity to be seen. Most people are afraid of change, I was afraid that things would never change, that's why I was getting married. "Don't let the Bride of Chucky always get away with it. You are old enough to continue being the target of their stabs.” I smiled while nodding my head. "You're coming to visit me, right?” I had to ask even though I already knew the answer. No. That was the answer. Olivier, her brother, was a recent Harvard graduate, who reluctantly returned just to help them with the move. Olivier hated Great City. The Adams sold their home and moved in close to their children. The chances of Christine, Nicole, Jordan, and even Olivier coming back, were slim to none. "On my next vacation, I will come to see you. I want to know all about the wedding and I also have to give George a little nudge.” She winked at me as we laughed. George was her boyfriend. Everlasting love had been promised, although we both knew that George was history as soon as she left Great City. Plus, George was the perfect excuse to avoid the topic of our only fight. I grew up with Christine, laughed, cried, and even got drunk with her and the only time we fought was when I told her I was getting married. She was furious, I had never seen her so angry. She didn't understand my motives. It was well known that we did not marry for love, we married for convenience. He needed a wife to cushion the pressure from his parents and I needed to get out of my house. Chris begged me not to get married. It was the first time that I ignored her words. "Christine! It's time.” Olivier's voice was very commanding, quite a contrast to how soft he could be. He adjusted his glasses and with slow but sure steps, approached us. We were sitting in the garden of my house, right in front of what, until a few days ago, was their house. We had been neighbors, companions, and best friends our entire lives. Christine and Olivier were the only friends I had. Especially, Christine, Chris was the only friend my mom allowed me to have. Olivier, on the other hand, always made me nervous, three years had already passed since the "incident" and even so, I still start to tremble when he's around. "Say goodbye. We are leaving now.” Olivier was tall and thin. He was a walking bone when he was younger, yet now you can see one or two muscles. Still, with his skinny and bad temper, in my eyes, he was the perfect example of the knight errant. He had light blue eyes that turned sour when you pissed him off. The devil's temper, with the heart of an angel. Not even Chris resembled her brother's kindness. Nobody comforted me the way Olivier comforted me. Only Nicole, with her motherly love, compared to him. His only "flaw” was that he was born with a cleft lip. The Adams had him treated since he was little and he only had a slight scar above his lip that made him look dangerous. That did not save him from the bullying, the "popular kid" had always annoyed him, especially the one who was soon to be my husband. It also didn't help that Olivier looked down on everyone and treated them like idiots. They were, but he didn't have to mention it every time he saw them. Christine and I got up and hugged. I loved her like a sister and best of all, that love was reciprocated. I fought with all my might not to cry, but the tears gathered in my eyes and with a stifled sob I lost the battle. "Don't stop writing to me.” I sniffed as I wiped my face with the sleeves of my blouse. Christine had always been stronger, braver, more woman. "Mari, promise me you'll take care of yourself.” I smiled at her and with a face full of tears I nodded. God, how it hurt! But above all, how scared I was. Fear of losing it; I lost my guardian, my shield, my sister. If someone had survived, it was thanks to her and her family. What was I going to do without her? Without them? We hugged each other again, She kissed me on the cheek, and with her tears falling, she turned around and left. I turned to see Olivier and for a second I saw myself with him in the past. If Chris was my guardian, Olivier was my mentor. He was the one who helped me with my homework, the one who taught me that good music began with not only listening but also understanding the Beatles. And it was he who drove me to continue studying, "Never stop studying" he repeated to me. His greatest obsession and a waste of time according to my mother. Everything changed when he returned from vacation the first year of university. He found me cornered in his kitchen crying, Chris arguing with her parents so they could go talk to mine. They had already tried a million times and it was a losing war. With my mother, you could not talk or reach an agreement. Her religious ideas were stronger than any argument given to her. Chris could not believe this was happening in the 21sth century.; Letting your mother rule your life with absolute anarchy without anyone saying anything, including blows when she deemed it necessary. My cheek was still red and burning from the slap my mother gave me because I asked if I could spend my birthday with Chris and her family. She called me ungrateful and slapped my mouth shut. "Now what did she do to you?” I shook my head and looked down. I felt so ashamed, so humiliated. The years passed and there were no changes, my mother abused me, her "education" based on screams, insults, and blows, was getting worse and worse. My "docile" nature and the exaggerated need to feel loved did not help. "Nothing. She got mad and… and nothing. It was my fault.” I said in a whisper. He hugged me and like many other occasions, I rested my head on his chest. "Oh, Mari ... You'll see that everything improves when you go to university.” I nodded in disbelief. To my mother, it was a waste of time to study. The best thing for me " according to her " was that I learn to be a good housewife and found a husband to support me. She wasn't going to let me go and we all knew it. "Let's see, show me.” I looked up and met his eyes. He grimaced and very carefully stroked my flushed cheek. Olivier had changed a lot as a result of his going to college, but it was his eyes that changed the most. In a second they darkened and I saw his face tighten. His eyes traveled down and he brought his lips to my cheek. That kiss of brotherhood that he gave me had always worked when I was a child and came running looking for refuge in his house. But now things were different, we were no longer children and as soon as I noticed his mouth approaching my cheek, small butterflies began their flight throughout my stomach. With an unusual boldness in me, I tilted my face and his lips landed very close to the corner of my mouth. The wings became an unknown heat that invaded my body from head to toe. The heatwave awakened my body, I began to shake. My breathing accelerated and we were suspended in time, little by little we brought our mouths closer and he gave me my first kiss. With great care he caught my face in his hands and kissed my lips, I parted my mouth and tasted him. It was an exciting taste that filled me with longing. I caught his neck and lost myself in the most wonderful feeling I had ever experienced. One of his hands dug into my hair and the other was tracing the outline of my body. He reached my waist and pinned me between the wall and his body. Instinctively I opened my mouth wider and felt his tongue savoring me. A groan born from the depths of my gut filled our bodies. It all ended abruptly when we heard my mother's screams calling me. I pulled away gasping, looked down, and turned to run. We never talked about that kiss. He went back to college and when he came back he avoided me. The only time I tried to be alone with him, he got up from the couch and whispered out of the room. I thought I heard "you're a child." That broke my heart. I was fifteen and he was twenty-two when we kissed. True, he was older than me, but that "child" was so ... so dismissive. Just like how my mother spoke to me. I came back to the present when Olivier handed me a card. "If you need something, call me. And congratulations on… on your wedding.” I sensed how uncomfortable it felt to be around me. He was extremely intelligent, tall, handsome, good-natured, and also cold as snow. As a whole; someone immensely beyond my reach. He gave my hand a slight squeeze and followed his sister. After a few minutes and waving my hand in farewell, I stood under the suffocating July sun, watching the family that had taken care of me, fed me, welcomed me away. The family that had loved me ... my family.