The next day, the activity in the house seemed different. The servants were cleaning everywhere, rushing around with vases full of white flowers. They put a few white chairs in the garden and a little podium at the edge of it, with the ocean as the backdrop, while I repeated,This is not happeningin my mind.
Only ten people came, and out of that crowd, there was only one other woman. They stood around smoking cigarettes and cigars and drinking alcohol while Mum got ready. She walked down the stairs with a small bouquet in her hands, looking like one of those actresses in the black and white 1940s Hollywood movies she enjoyed watching. Her black hair was in perfect big curls under a white hat with matching flowers and a short veil. She wore a long, white silky pencil skirt and a long sleeve business suit top with no shirt under. The neckline was way too low, revealing too much of her breasts. She looked gorgeous and almost happy, but this was not the way brides in our culture dressed for weddings. Outside in the gardens where everything had been set for the ceremony, I scanned for the band that would play our people’s music all night and found no one. Where werethe twinkling fairy lights and the braziers full of fire to light and the heat the place so that we could dance ’til dawn? Where was the long wooden table with mountains of food?This is not a real wedding.Not even close. Then, I remembered what she’d told me,"Keenans only fall in love once in a lifetime."
I turned around to face the inside of the house, searching for Mum, only to find her giving him a short kiss at the bottom of the stairs.Why is she doing this? Is it for me? Is he making her?I didn’t understand.
“Will you Star Keenan marry Ricard Oster...” Like the breeze above the sea, my hearing swept in and out while I sat there waiting for her to show me this was not real. My world shattered like a broken mirror, tiny pieces of glass fell straight down all at the same time when I heard her say, “I do.”
Less than an hour later, the papers were signed, and that was the end of it. They walked back into the house and, with some French music playing, cut a small cake. The happiness in his eyes made him look like a normal person, and not the usual monster he was. It was genuine. The way he looked at her, like she was his last thread to happiness, as if she was his everything. It was the same look my father used to hold in his eyes when he was home.
The whole time, I floated from place to place like a ghost. No one noticed me, asked me anything. No one introduced me. I started believing if I kept myself quiet, I would stay invincible.
One good thing about everyone forgetting I existed was that I could do anything I wanted. The guards seemed to be hiding from the guests. From the entryway into the library next to the solarium, I watched Mum talking and laughing with her new husband and all the men as if she’d known them for years. I didn’t recognize her at all.
The cook found me outside and handed me a big piece of cake, so I walked farther out back to where they’d just gotten marriedand sat alone. The cake was delicious. I made a note to myself to thank the cook again for it then grabbed more pieces and stole glasses of champagne until I couldn’t eat or drink any more. I ate until it didn’t matter that by signing those papers, my mother had abandoned me in my grief, in truth.
Lying across a few chairs, staring at the beautiful pink sky above me, completely drunk off my ass, I held a goofy smile. I had missed the drunk sensations so much and had needed the numbness for so long in this hellhole. With the alcohol in my system, nothing could hurt me, not her, not even the feeling of being abandonment. Instead, I was flowing, like what I was, a ghost.
There was nothing to worry about and everything was beautiful. Nothing mattered. My view got wrecked by a man wearing a all-black suit, who smiled down at me. “How are you feeling after all that cake and champagne?”
On the outside, I tried to mask my face with indifference, but in my mind, I gasped.I’ve been caught. All this time I thought I was invisible, but he’d been watching me.I hadn’t even noticed him before. He had one hand in his pocket and a glass of champagne in the other. “Do you want more?” Staring from his face to the glass, I shook my head. He sat down and flattened all of his arm over the back of the chair where my head laid. At first, he just stared out into the ocean but then he wouldn’t stop studying me. I couldn’t escape his gaze.
I tried to ignore him, but then he said, “You’re a very beautiful boy.” My alarm bells couldn’t ring louder, so I sat then stood to leave. His big hand closed around my forearm, squeezing it so hard I hissed and was about to unravel his fingers away. “Hey, don’t go away.” It was a harsh command delivered with a silent threat. Was I doing something that would upset Mum? I didn’t want to disappoint her on her “wedding day.” I didn’t try to unfasten his hand from my arm until a few seconds later whenhis face started melting like cheese on pizza and his eyes sank more and more into black holes. Despite my horror, I froze. A coldness covered my body like a blanket then entered it forcing me to shiver. My breathing rushed, coming out in puffs but I couldn’t move my feet.This can’t be real. What is happening?The whisperings of several voices entered my ear, but when I looked around, it was just him and me. I groaned and attempted to pull away my arm. When I turned to him again, his face was still melting, and a black liquid, like tar, poured from the holes his eyes once rested.Was he a dead man? Like Nana had warned me about?
I pulled his fingers off my arm to see they, too, were melting like cheese. Pieces of them stuck to my fingers. When I looked at his face again, the image disappeared.What the fuck just happened?
“You okay, little fella?” He ruffled the curls hanging over my forehead. I pulled away, not liking how comfortable he was with touching me.
“Mum’s calling me.”
“No she’s not.” His voice and facial expression, like before, carried too much aggression, as if I’d said something inappropriate.
Frustrated, I sighed. “What do you want?”
He chuckled at my question. “I like your accent.” His gaze dropped from my eyes to my mouth, and he licked his lips. The act made me take two steps away from him. “I just want your company.” He shrugged and finally turned his long, old oval face toward the ocean. “That’s all.”
That’s not all. Not all. Not all.
I turned around, looking for the voices saying this, but again, it was just him and me.
That’s not all. That’s not all. That’s not all. Not all. Not all. Not all. Not all.
“Sit down.” He pulled my arm until I had no choice but to sit next to him, then put his arm back where it had been before I’d attempted to walk away.
My heart raced while the voices kept repeating,Not all.The way he looked at me reminded me of the red-eyed wolf on the tapestry in my bedroom.
He was a tall, skinny, and bald other than a few strands of black hair laying across his head. His big round eyes seemed too deep into his face. Was it because he was so slim? His nose was long with a round tip. He also had thick lips, and big ears that stuck out. His arms were as long as pine tree branches, with big palms and lengthy fingers.
“What’s your name?” he asked. The critters in the bushes buzzed loudly while I blinked, staring at him. All I wanted to do was run, but I didn’t want to get in trouble for being rude. I was trapped and hated it, so sick and tired of that insufferable feeling.
His eyes grew into bigger black holes as the rest of his face melted like cheese. When he repeated the question, his head slowly fell to the side and black bugs crawled out of him. His voice was that of a witch. The sight and sound terrified me and pushed me to answer. “Killian,” I almost yelled, and suddenly, the image was gone. Why did it feel as if I’d given him all my power by revealing my name?
“Are you enjoying Monaco?” We stared at each other, but his gaze fell to my lips again, which I nervously licked. His smile collapsed and his brown eyes became dead, eventually appearing as if they were looking through me.
“It’s fine. Excuse me,” I said, and rushed away.
“I’ll see you again soon, Killian.” He sang it like a little jingle, and my walk turned into a run until I got to the bedroom. I locked the door and didn’t come out for anything, not even dinner. It was easy to fall asleep hungry this time since the alcohol made me sleepy.
I wish I’d never woken again. Loneliness beat in every cell of my heart. Yet another change I hadn’t expected or would have never wished for. The room was so silent yet a part of me screamed and wailed, wanting to go back home to my family, the people who loved me. All that luxury, it just wasn’t worth it. I’d rather sleep in a bed too hot and crowded with twenty of my cousins than in that huge bed alone, abandoned. Even in the rolled-up bed in winter I’d never felt so cold. Despite the weight I was carrying the day after the wedding, I still got up, showered, and dressed in one of my new outfits, like Mum told me to do every morning.
