mia
1231 Words
I wake up feeling dead.
My body is heavy like I just crawled out of a pool after a prolonged swimming. A slow ache is spreading from the nape of my neck to the center of my head. I wish I didn't have to get up at all.
Yesterday flashes in my mind, clearing my foggy head. With that memory comes a dread that makes me feel weak in the knees. I have to face these aliens I am living with, then go back to that school to face monsters I can't kill.
The thought of sneaking away slides into my mind again, but I push it away. Even if I want to go back, I can't. I don't have any money and I don't have anyone I can hole up with. No matter what, having a roof over my head is better than becoming homeless. I have two years of High school then all this will be over. All I have to do is endure. I don't think it can be worse than when Dad was alive and I had to take care of him and myself. Those days, though not long ago, were nightmares I would rather have again just so I could have my Dad around again. If I survive that, I can survive whatever this new arrangement throws at me.
With renewed courage, I roll out of bed and enter the bathroom to get ready. In front of the full mirror, I slowly rub on the cheek Olivia hit yesterday. It was swollen before, but now, everything is fine.
When I got home yesterday, Mum saw the marks but didn't even ask me what happened. I can't help but compare her to Dad. He would have pressured me into telling him who hit me then go find trouble with them. Mum didn't even acknowledge that my cheek was swollen and red. Does she even see me? Am I invisible?
“Young Miss, good morning. What will you have for breakfast?” The chef hurries over from the kitchen the moment I arrive downstairs.
My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I didn't have dinner last night. I simply pretended to be sleeping when the butler came to call me. My face was swollen and Richard was around. I didn't want him to see it.
“Can I make it myself?” I ask in a small voice. Getting served by a chef feels awkward. I don't know if I can get used to this.
“Mia, I didn't see you last night. Why didn't you eat dinner?” Richard's creepy voice reaches my ears from behind. Turing around, I watch him descend the stairs, one foot at a time. He is carefully fixing his cuffs.
“Ri… “ I almost call his name. “I overslept.”
Behind him, Mum is glaring at me, making me wonder if I had done something wrong again.
“Well, how was your first day at school? Did Jeremy help you out?” Richard continues.
“Yes.” I nod just in time to see Jeremy also coming down the stairs. He also glares at me.
Because the stairway is like three feet wide, there is enough room for everyone to pass. Jeremy hurries past his Dad and my Mum without greeting anyone. He then enters the kitchen, opens the fridge where he picks an apple and starts biting into it.
“Make some sandwiches for Mia and I.” Richard turns to the chef, who then nods and starts working.
Right there on the stairs, Mum helps her husband fix his tie and smoothen his shirt while whispering some sweet talks to him. She might as well be talking to a wall. He isn't even looking at her.
“I will have my account manager come over by the weekend to help you open a bank account. Before then, whatever you need, just ask your Mum, okay?” He continues to say.
“Yes,...”
Wait what? Is Richard giving me money?
I scrutinize his face for any sign that he is joking, but sees none. Then, my gaze clashes with my Mum's and my chest tightens. Cold sweat breaks out on my back, and I subconsciously chew on my lower lip. She has this cold stillness in her eyes. One I have seen on a few occasions when she is really mad. When Mum gets really mad it's bad. Very bad. I don't know why she is mad, but I can't stop myself from shivering. Luckily, we aren't alone, so she can't do anything to me.
I quickly look away, finding anything to focus on. The moment my Mum’s gaze moves away, I feel it in my bones. The chill drains out of me and I can breathe again.
Jeremy finishes his apple, snorts at me then leaves through the back door. I wish to follow him, but Richard asked the Chef to make sandwiches for me. Though he gives me bad, dangerous vibes, he is the only one in this house who isn't openly antagonistic. I would rather keep things like that.
“Here, Miss.” The chef places a plate of sandwiches and a cup of warm milk on the table for me.
“Thank you.” I manage to whisper. Sitting down, I instantly feel my Mum’s gaze on me again. With chills zapping through my nerves, I am too nervous to eat. I turn to the chef. “Can I pack it in brown paper?” I ask. “I will just drink the milk and take the sandwiches with me. I think I am running late.”
“Okay, Miss. Just a moment.”
“What about Jeremy?” Richard asks the chef.
“He left already, sir.”
“That,...” Richard takes a deep breath, suppressing his anger. He then calls Ron, the butler over. “Drive Mia to school today,” he tells him.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you have a driving license?” His question catches me off guard.
“I don't know how to drive, sir.”
Why is he asking…?
My back feels soaked now. Mum won't stop glaring and it's scaring me. Will she throw all caution to the wind and pounce on me?
“Then Ron will take you to school from now on. Arrange for her to sort out her driving by month's end.” He turns to Ron. “After that l, she can pick any of the cars in the garage.” He continues.
Instantly, my hairs stand up and I break out in goosebumps. Not because I don't want a car, but because my Mum’s glare now feels like an arrow is targeting me.
“No.” I stand up and shake my head in refusal. Just then, the chef brings over my now packed sandwiches. “I don't need a car. I am fine walking to school. It's not far from here.” I quickly explain.
“You should be mobile. That way you can move around on your own.” He insists.
Like, dude. Can't you feel how cold the room is? Your wife doesn't want you to give a car.
I steal a glance at Mum and shivers. Her face shows none of the hostility I am feeling from her gaze. In fact, she is smiling.
Not good!
- Writer
