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As I woke
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2024-11-12 04:14:22I woke up again in the same room I imagined in my nightmare. Only this time, it was empty of everyone but me and all the wires and monitoring devices that I previously had on had been removed carefully. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. And there was nothing I could do to change it. I waited anxiously for someone to walk through the door but after ten minutes. I figured that they’d been avoiding me thinking I was resting or something far worse. After weighing out the possibilities, I feel the urge to get up. I slowly drag myself to a sitting position and dangle my feet off the side of the bed. I sit there for a minute silently judging myself on how badly I must’ve failed to end up here. I then slowly and quietly wiggle out of bed and make my way to the restroom located right by my hospital room door. I take a minute to steady myself. Holding onto the bathroom sink, I look up to see my reflection. Looking back at me, I see the same as always. Vivid green eyes, hourglass figure, long black hair, plump lips and my father’s perfect nose. Too bad pretty doesn’t pay the bills or get you a legacy. I hated looking at myself in the mirror. I always saw what everyone else saw: pretty but most likely pretty dumb. I worked so hard to be smart, to be the best. So nobody could underestimate me.
I know what you’re thinking. What’s so bad about being pretty? Well the answers’ simple. I thought pretty was a good thing until about eighth grade. I had friends, crushes and a life then but it didn’t mean as much as I thought it would. My “friends” paid a guy to ask me on a date. Not just any guy but the only cute guy in school that every girl drooled over and he had to no problem taking the bribe and in return, was supposed to trick “dumb” pretty me into bed with him and take pictures to send to everyone else. But I thought he liked me as any 13 year old girl would. So I obviously said yes and planned to go his house after school for a movie. I gleaned all day until the final bell rang. He even came to my last class and waited for me. We walked over to his house about two blocks away and up the stairs to his room. He seemed nice and l thought he wanted to be my boyfriend so I allowed him to hold my butt as we watched the movie in his bed (not like I had anything there anyways) but after about thirty minutes, he started kissing me and I got nervous. He told me to relax that he knew what he was doing. I should’ve ran before things got bad. But I tried to relax and kissed him back even though that was my first kiss. Then he started to tear at my clothes trying to get them off as quickly as possible. I panicked and pushed him back. He (who I will never give name as it would give him power) grabbed me again only this time he started hitting me. He pulled me off of his bed by my leg until I hit the floor and kicked me in my stomach twice as I cried and coughed. “Why are you doing this? I thought you liked me. Please stop.” The thought now that I could have been so wrong then haunts me and has resonated whenever I thought of the idea of love. He lowered down next to me as he finally decided to give me an explanation. “Pretty girls are supposed to be whores and stupid ones at that. What makes you think you can say no to me? I want what I started and my $200.” I looked at him through glossy eyes, hit him where it hurt and ran until the air I heaved in my lungs started to feel like broken glass and I reached my front door. I refused to tell my parents and pretended everything was fine as I went to my room to check my wounds and cry. Ever since then, I’ve been repulsed by the idea by of being pretty and that the idea of love could be based on beauty. And here I was, letting that repulsion take over once again. Only this time, I’m interrupted before the tears as I hear my mom calling my name anxiously. Maybe there was something wrong with me.Related chapters
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I sit as Maverick makes his way to the seat across from me. I think of something to say as the waiter makes his way over to ask what we’d like to drink. I hear Maverick answer something in Italian and the waiter nods and leaves. “You speak Italian?” Why does everything surprise me about him? As though he were a labyrinth I intended to get lost in. He looks over at me with a soft smile before answering. “My grandfather taught me. He said it’d be a waste for the language to die with him. Cosa ne pensi?” His smile changes from soft to almost flirtation. “What does that mean?” “I asked you what do you think?” He lets out a light laugh that sends a wave of nervousness all over me. I wasn’t used to going on dates or talking to guys as a whole. But I enjoyed Maverick and I’s conversations especially before I knew how hot he could me feel in my most intimate places. “Riveting” i smile with the same level of flirtation as he did before me. “So what did you order for our drinks?”
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I revisit the waiting room and sit on the couch across from the mysterious man. A coffee table riddled with magazines stands in between as I grab a magazine on Successful women to be acknowledged and recognized this past year. I skim the magazine and wonder if I’d end up in a publishing like this. A publishing of elites and their legacy - broadcasted upon each page for others to read and seek motivation from. I needed this internship and this man in front of me stood in my way of that. I peer up from my magazine and catch him doing the same. Skimming a magazine but peeking at me over the rim of the top. Was he thinking the same as me?I close my magazine and place it down on the table neatly and decide that conversation was a good attempt as any.“Are you here for the internship?”He smiles slightly as he looks up and puts down his magazine as if he knew conversation was on the horizon.“I am and I understand that there is only one position. But we’re both still here.” He analyzed the
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“Please have a seat on. I’m Mrs. Parton and it is so nice to meet you.” She says with a professional and warming smile. I hand her my portfolio, sit down and make sure to keep posture high and offer a controlled smile. I think my crazed nervous smile would’ve scared her away. “It’s nice to finally meet you as well Mrs.Parton. I have nothing but the highest respect for your work.” Niceties aren’t going to get me this interview but I hadn’t lied. She created EnviroDoc and traveled the world making documentaries about the environment and planet. It was amazing how much she has put into her success. She’s formed a legacy. “Oh thank you! I was very impressed to read your application. You seem to be a very dedicated young woman on a mission and I’d like to learn more about you today.” She says as she sits across from me behind her desk. “Thank you. I will gladly answer any and every question you have!” Okay that was too eager but at least she smiled back at me and didn’t look at me li
