Tethered

Introduction

“Sometimes I get this feeling... Like I’m being watched, or I’m being followed. When I’m walking down the street or shopping in a grocery store, that feeling just washes over me and I get goosebumps every time, because then I remember the day I was kidnapped. Other times, that feeling doesn’t hit me, but I see something that triggers these memories. It’s like this-I can’t look at alleyways without thinking about how I was dumped in one 2 years ago. I hate having things over my head because I remember how I couldn’t breathe with the bag over me. I don’t wear bracelets anymore because they remind me of how my wrists were tied. And I can’t be alone in the dark because then I remember him.”

My therapist stared at me and then proceeded to type on her keyboard. “Is this nyctophobia your worst trigger?” She asked me.

“What’s that?” I laughed nervously.

“Fear of the dark.” She looked up at me.

“I’d say it’s the one that scares me the most.”

“How do you get through the night?”

“I have a nightlight. Sleeping pills also work well for me.” This was embarrassing. A 21-year-old with a nightlight, if I was her I’d be laughing. “I see you’re engaged.” She pointed to my ring with her pen. “Yes, the wedding is next week.” I smiled. Not that I was excited. An arranged marriage wasn’t something I particularly wanted.

“How long have you known your fiancé?”

Lie.

“A little over a year,” I said as I straightened the large rock on my finger.

“Congratulations… Is he aware of your condition?” Why is she all up in my business?

“Yes, he’s been very helpful, very understanding as well.”

“That’s good. Talking about what happened with other people always helps.” She paused before speaking again.

“Sophia I’d just like to say I'm proud of you. The progress you’ve made is incredible. I’m glad you’ve finally reached a point where you feel comfortable enough to discuss what happened to you that night.” My therapist took her glasses off. “What about knives?”

“What about them?” My hands started to shake. Who does she think she is? I just told her everything and she still wants more.

“It said on your file you were held at knifepoint. Do you hold the same triggers for sharp objects?”

I just stared at her. She wanted to know everything. I know she’s just trying to help, but I can’t get the words out of my mouth.

“Yes.”

“Sophia, this is completely normal. People who suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder often have triggers. The most important thing is to remain calm. Deep breaths. Don’t panic. Believe me, it gets easier with time, you just have to be patient with yourself.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hamill.” I stood up and collected my things. It’s hard to believe it happened 2 years ago, and I’m still healing from it. I know the world I live in is dangerous. It doesn’t matter how nice the neighborhood is or how rich my family is. Someone is always out to get me and every day I live in fear that he’ll find me and finish the job.

I’m in serious need of retail therapy.

“Oh god! They are gorgeous. I need them.” Isabel said as she clutched a Jimmy Choo heel close to her chest. All I could do was laugh. “You’re so dramatic.” I rolled my eyes. I needed a pair of heels to match my wedding dress. I tried putting it off as long as possible, but time seems to have caught up with me.

“Victor and I got in a fight. I need something to take my mind off it and this works just fine.”

“Spending all his money?” I asked.

“Hey, if I’m f*****g him, the least he can do is buy me a pair of heels.”

“You know there's a word for that, and I believe it's called prostitution.” I smiled. “What’d you guys fight about?”

She put the shoe down and started walking towards the makeup department.

“He wants kids now. I haven’t told him about it..you know.” She looked down.

I stopped her and grabbed her arm.

“You still haven’t told him about the miscarriage?”

She shook her head. “I’m scared, Sophia, I can’t,” She whispered.

“What are you scared of? Victor loves you, he’ll understand.”

“He doesn’t love me. Do you think I was his first choice? To him, I’m a babymaker, that’s all he wants me for. If I tell him I may be infertile, I’ll be thrown out and then where will I be?”

“You could stay with me.” Isabel scoffed at my offer. “In a week you won’t even be an Arellano anymore Sophia. I can’t stay with you.” I keep forgetting about my wedding. Ignoring it made it easier, but now it’s closer to becoming my reality, and I’m not ready for it. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but for now I’m okay.” She gave me a small smile. But it didn’t stop me from worrying.

“What do you think?” She came out of the dressing room in a short black sparkly Versace dress. “Stunning.” I clapped as she spun around. “Which club are you going to with that one?” I asked.

“This is for your wedding.”

My smile dropped.

“What it’s not like you care about it.” She added. “So? I still want it to be perfect. That day is about me.”

“And your husband.” She added as she stared at herself in the mirror.

“No, just me.”

“This dress looks so good on me. I have to wear it.” She whined.

“Oh you can wear it, just not to my wedding Isa.” I crossed my arms.

“Maybe if you had asked me to be maid of honor I would already have a dress picked out.”

“Don’t do this, it wasn’t my choice, my mother organized everything. I wanted no part of it. I was already stressed out enough being thrown into an arranged marriage, imagine if I had to plan the f*****g thing too. I’d be ripping my hair out.” I sighed. I agreed to an arranged marriage because I knew saying no wasn't an option. My father always gets what he wants. I said as long as I didn’t have to participate in any planning I was okay with it.

“It’s just so weird to think about. I mean at least I knew Victor before we got married but you- you’re going into this completely blindsided.”

“I know. At least he’s good-looking. God knows I would have killed myself if he wasn’t.” We both laughed at my misfortune.

I walked into the house with copious amounts of shopping bags and paused when I saw my father watching me. “Wasting your time again Sophia?”

No, just your money.

“I went out with Isabel.”

“Your wedding is in less than a week, you should be preparing for that. Not spending your day out with friends.” He scolded.

My relationship with my father wasn’t the best. After having 3 daughters he expected a son but when I came out he was more than disappointed. My dad was convinced my mom would never have a son and just stopped trying. To this day he never fails to mention what a big mistake I am.

“If I had a son things would be different.”

There it is.

“Mami has already prepared everything for the wedding. There’s nothing else to do but wait.”

He shook his head and walked away.

“Would you like some help with those Miss Sophia?” My helper asked. “Yes please señora Maribel, gracias.” I laughed as I struggled to give her some of my bags. We took the elevator to my room and I immediately flopped on my bed. I heard Maribel taking the clothes out of the bags. “Maribel you don’t have to do that. I can put them away myself.”

“It’s my job. Besides it gives me something to do up here. Your father is downstairs.” She was afraid of him.

I completely understand.

I stood up and helped her put away my things.

One week.