Desired

Being Selfish Featuring My Mother

Sitting in the same car with my mother and Elijah is torturous and I can't stand to look at both of their faces.

Well, if I'm being honest with myself I won't look at Elijah's face because I'm scared shitless and I don't want to think about what he'll do if he catches me staring.

My mother on the other hand is a whole different story.

I bite down the urge to kick the back of her seat as a wave of anger passes through me. I have to leave my home because she decided to act like an adolescent on steroids.

Sighing, I count to ten and keep my face towards the window, watching as the town I grew up in fades away behind me.

***

"Renée we're here!"

My mother shouts in a loud childish squeak, as if the car stopping didn't already clue me in.

Once again I resist the urge to do something that would get me in trouble but settle on rolling my eyes as I step outside the insanely expensive Pagani Huayra.

The January air is biting as it hits my skin, causing shivers to race up my arms.

"Are you cold?" Elijah questions in a gruff voice but I don't answer. My mother is married to him that doesn't mean I have to like it.

"I asked you a question piccola ragazza," He says in a low voice and I swallow my saliva and train my eyes to the side of his head; ignoring him. His jaw ticks and his eyes narrow.

(Translation: little girl)

I guess he's not accustomed to people ignoring him.

He scowls at me and opens his mouth to probably curse me out for breathing the same air as him, but doesn't get the chance to because his phone starts ringing.

He ignores the call, continuing to stare at me with a tick in his jaw before finally pressing the answer button and motioning for us to follow him inside.

I take a deep breath, swallowing my fake bravado before following them inside. I clearly have a death wish.

My mouth drops when my eyes land on the beautiful decor of the lobby. Without a doubt I know that it's stupid expensive to live in a building like this.

Obviously not a problem for my mother's gang friend.

Elijah leads us to the elevator and soon enough we're going up to the very first floor. The crappy music that all elevators seem to have begins to play and my breathing becomes irregular as irrational fears start to plague my mind.

Oh s**t. Oh no.

I slowly bring my hands to my chest and close my eyes as I take deep breaths. There's no telling when I'll have an anxiety attack, it just happens. It also doesn't help that I'm scared shitless of elevators.

Did I say scared? I meant terrified.

"Are you okay?" Elijah asks, unnerving blue eyes staring at me intently. I answer him this time, but only because I need a distraction.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just d-don't like elevators," I mutter, mentally cursing myself for stuttering.

I look at my mother and she doesn't seem to notice I'm struggling, she's too busy looking around the elevator with childlike wonder on her face.

Like I said; adolescent on steroids.

The elevator dings and I happily push my way out and hungrily breathe in the heavenly non-elevator scented air.

"Are you sure?" he asks again, this time griping my arm.

I tug away from his hold and stare at him with the bitchiest look I could muster. "Can we not pretend like you actually care how I'm feeling?"

I snap, watching as the same muscle in his jaw ticks, but he again doesn't say anything. He just stares at me with a cross but calculated look in those blue eyes.

"Per favore, follow me," He says finally, turning around and leading us to a door which he opens with a fancy blue card.

(Translation: Please)

I bite on the side of my thumb as I take in the room, and when I say room I mean mansion.

It's huge with big windows that lets in a lot of sunlight, which I'm thankful for. I love open spaces, it makes me feel like I can actually breathe.

The main theme of the apartment seems to be black and white, plain but beautifull nonetheless. My eyes land on the 292- inch Samsung wall television and my mouth drops open.

Its blood money. Its blood money. Its blood money.

I chant in my head; over and over so that my morals don't get confused. Elijah's phone starts ringing again and he looks at the scream and mutters a curse.

"You can pick any room you'd like," he says to me specifically.

"I'll have William bring in your things," he finishes in a dismissive tone before answering the call and walking away.

My mother rushes to explore the apartment faster than the freaking Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and I sigh loudly, visualising Mia actually punching her in the face.

With that image in mind, I drag my feet to a random room and push the door open.

The room is huge and beautiful but so is everything I've seen so far.

My mother married a freaking Mafia Don. I think to myself, my mind still unable to fathom the impossible information.

I drop myself onto the soft comfortable mattress, feeling my emotions boiling over. Why couldn't the stupid mattress be hard as rock? Why couldn't the apartment be tiny and uncomfortable? It would make it a whole lot easier to hate this place if it was.

Finally the dam breaks and the tears come rushing out. I cry until my eyes are sore and my throat hurts.

I cry until I fall asleep.

***

I awake with a start, alerted by a noise in the room. I sit up on the bed with my legs crossed, watching as a boy brings my suitcases inside.

My cheeks flushing when he looks at me.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He asks and I nod my head but smile so that he knows it's okay.

"I'm William, I work here," he says, offering me a warm smile. "I was told to bring your suitcases in,"

"I'm Renée, I guess I live here," I reply, wincing when the rawness of my throat reminds me of my hour long cry session.

"You okay?" He asks with a slight frown on his face and I nod my head in answer, ignoring the fact that my throat feels like it passed through a meat grinder.

"I'm fine"

"If you say so," he replies, dropping my suitcases by the bed.

"See you around, Renée,"

"See ya," I reply with a small smile, watching as he disappears out the door.

When he leaves the smile vanishes from my face, I was hoping to wake up in my real house on my real bed, and for this horrifying situation to be just a dream.

But at last....

I walk over to my suitcases and begin the process of unpacking, when that's finished I search around the room until I find the shower.

I emerge from the bathroom feeling like a new person, well, at least like a person who didn't just cry themself to sleep.

I throw on a pink oversized sweater and black leggings, looking at the time on my phone that says seven thirty PM.

Should I leave the room? What if I walk in on them making out or something?

I cringe hard at the mental image but walk to the door regardless, steeling my nerves as I poke my head outside.

My nose is greeted by a tantalising smell and I'm suddenly aware of my hunger.

Should I go?

My stomach growls, making the decision for me and I push my way out the room, letting my nose and my hunger lead me to the delicious smell.

Oh no.

I think, stopping dead in my tracks when I see Elijah behind the stove and my mother sitting on a stool watching him cook.

This is why I never trust my stomach.

He turns around and looks at me with no expression on his face.

"Have a seat," he says, eyes narrowing into slits when I don't move.

"Adesso!" he shouts and I nearly have a heart attack. I drag my feet over to a stool and take a seat, literally fearing for my life.

(Translation: Adesso is a command that means (now) )

"Are you hungry?" He asks and I nod my head, looking anywhere but at his face.

"Ecco qui," he says, placing a burger in front of me and I scrunch my nose up.

(Translation: Here you go)

"I'm vegetarian," I whisper, looking at the burger like it personally offended me.

"What?" Elijah asks and I clear my throat, wincing again because of the pain.

"I said, I'm vegetarian," I repeat, making my voice louder and flinching when he takes the plate away.

"Why are you scared? I haven't touched you," he mutters, removing the patty from inside and handing the plate back to me.

"Thank you," I whisper, although there is no way in hell I'm actually going eat it.

I look over at my mother who's bussy typing on her phone and visualize smacking her with the burger, giggling as the scene plays out in my head.

I look up to see Elijah staring at me with a frown on his face and I feel my cheeks burn with either indignation or embarrassment, I'm not quite sure yet.

My eyes drop to the floor either way.

"Babe, I'm going out with a few of my friends later tonight, alright?"

My mother says to Elijah, who has to drag his eyes away from my face to look at her.

"Sì, I'll have one of my men follow you," he replies while she beams up at him.

"Don't you have to go to work tomorrow?" I ask, a justified frown on my face.

"Elijah doesn't want me to work,"

"And so you're just not going to? Are you crazy!" I shout, feeling my temper rising.

My mother has done some crazy s**t in her life, but this one definitely takes her stunts to a whole nother level.

"I don't see the problem here Renée! And don't raise your voice at me,"

"Don't raise my voice? don't raise my voice!? What's gonna happen when he leaves you mom? You'll have nothing, we'll have nothing. Please don't quit your job,"

I practically beg, hoping that she understands what I'm trying to say, but I can already tell that her mind is made up.

"Its already done Renée, this matter is not up for discussion," she says and I laugh at how outrageously ridiculous this situation is. One day Mia and I are planning our graduation dresses and the next thing I know, I'm sitting in a kitchen as Elijah Alejandro makes me burgers.

"You're stupid for believing he actually wants you," I say digging my finger nails into my palms to prevent myself from doing anything rash.

"He has everything mom, why would he want you?"

"That's enough!" Elijah yells, his voice booming through the room, literally making me jump out of my seat. I swallow my cowardice and turn my head to face him.

"You're not my father Elijah Alejandro," I say, inserting as much venom in my voice as I possibly could.

"So don't try to be."

"Renée!" my mother shouts, but I ignore her, pushing away from the stool and walking back to the room, slamming the door as hard as my bird arms allowed.

"Assholes!" I shout for good measure before dropping myself ungracefully on the bed as the tears come heavily.

And once again, I'm drowning in the mess that is my life.