SILENT RULES AND TEARS
612 Words
I rolled over and realized it was morning,Although it still looked dark outside.
I kept turning and tossing
My mind wouldn't stop racing with questions.
I got out of bed and walked towards the window.My window had a beautiful view and i could see the huge compound of the mansion.
Guards stood at the gate like statues.
I slowly opened the bedroom door,avoiding anyone hears any sound as i peaked through the hallways.
It was quiet.
Something pulled me forward down the long corridor, past fancy paintings on the walls.
I turned a corner and found what looked like a library.
I stepped inside.
Admiring the long walls and the smell of books.
“You shouldn't be in here”A voice said.Calm but firm.
I turned and saw sam
“Mr.Black doesn't like anyone in this room.It is his personal library “She concluded.
I nodded queitly and stepped out.
On my way back,Anna appeared out of nowhere,stopping me
“Mr. Black wants to see you… in his study,” she said.
Same cold tone.
Why was everyone in this house like this?
I felt my chest tighten.
After everything yesterday, now this?
“Okay,” I said softly, and followed her.
We stopped at a huge door. She opened it, and I walked in.
There he was, in pajamas, flipping through papers.
Of course he was working.
It wasn’t even 7 a.m. yet.
I cleared my throat so he’d notice me.
He looked up and for a second, his eyes scanned me from head to toe.
The silk nightwear clung to my body, showing more than I’d like.
He stared long enough to make the air feel heavy.
So, Mr. Black can look.
“Good morning,” I said, snapping him out of whatever that was.
He cleared his throat and straightened up, trying to act normal again.
“I just wanted to go over the house rules,” he said.
Rules. Of course.
This isn’t a home. It’s a prison.
And I’m the prisoner.
He handed me a sheet of paper.
I glanced over it. The list was strict. Controlling.
• No leaving the house without permission.
• No talking to anyone outside.
• Some parts of the house are off-limits.
• Staff must report everything I do to him.
I looked up. “Do I get any say in this?”
“If you did,” he said, “I’d have asked your opinion before writing it.”
My chest burned with anger.
“Why are you treating me like I’m in jail?” I asked.
His expression changed. He stood up and slowly walked over to me.
Every step felt heavy.
My heart raced as he stopped just inches away.
His breath smelled like mint, warm and close.
The tension was thick.
“Because you don’t just get to be free after what you did,” he said softly, but with so much weight.
I felt dizzy. Like the ground was gone from under me.
“I don’t even know what you mean,” I said.
“I lost my memory. Don’t you get that?”
“The past doesn’t disappear just because you did,” he said, brushing me off.
Then he turned and walked out
leaving me standing there, breathless.
I ran back to my room, my chest full of pain, confusion, and anger.
As soon as I shut the door, I dropped to the floor and cried.
Real, heavy tears.
Because this isn’t fair.
But I won’t let him break me.
I won’t let him win.
He can lock me in this house, but I’ll find out the truth.
No matter what it takes.
- Writer
