Page 2 of His to Own

There’s a defiance in my mother’s eyes I rarely ever see but it slowly dims and she goes into the kitchen. I can hear the clinking of pots and pans as she makes dinner. As my father commanded.

“What?” Father snaps at me as I continue to stare at him.

“I have a test tomorrow for school. I need to study.”

“Fine. Then go study. We’ll work out the arrangements for your wedding later.”

All I feel is numb as I go to my room. My large, elegant looking room more fit for a princess. My father’s money. It has helped him out a lot in life. Helped all of us.

So why does it feel like a vise around my throat?

I open my diary and look down at the words I wrote just yesterday. A new poem. One about a father who hates his daughter.

I skim through all the poems I have written in my private journal. All the pain and despair and dread I have felt over the years. This is for my eyes only.

There was one day my father found this journal and read everything. He screamed at me for hours, saying I was making a fool out of him. That I was never allowed to show this to anyone. My true, inner thoughts.

He threatened to throw it in the fire but I begged enough that he threw the journal right back at me. I keep it hidden in the back of my bookshelf behind other books – all romance novels. Books my father approves of. Things he believes a woman should care about.

I’ve read my romance novels over and over again, not because my father told me to, but because it’s nice to believe there’s a better place for me in this world. One where I could meet a man, fall in love, and have children. I could work as a writer as well. A working wife and mother.

Except, now it seems my reality is to only be a wife and mother. No job. No education. Nothing for myself.

When midnight strikes, it dawns on me that no one wished me happy birthday today. No party. No cake. No acknowledgement.

Just a marriage contract to a man who makes me shiver. Who’s older than my father. Who wants me to quit school.

College is the only escape I have from this household and now my father wants to take that all away from me.

A gasp escapes my throat and I claw at my chest. It hurts so much. This never ending pain.

I need to see my sister. I need Lana.

Father never allowed me a cellphone, even though my younger sister, Adriana, has one. She’s dead asleep in her room as I sneak in. No cares in the world. Neither Father nor Mother told her about Sergei after she got home from school and I didn’t have the courage to tell her.

To say out loud what my father wants – who my father wants to marry me to – will make all of it real and I’m not ready to face reality yet.

I grab Adriana’s phone and sneak back to my room and call Lana. It takes a while for her to answer since it’s the middle of the night but the moment she does and I hear her voice, I feel myself relax.

“Adriana?”

“It’s Elena,” I whisper, not wanting to get caught.

“Elena? Are you all right? Why are you calling in the middle of the night?”

I open my mouth to tell her everything but the words just won’t come. “I didn’t have a birthday party,” I say instead. “Nothing.”

“Oh, Elena. I’m so sorry.” Lana is the only one to ever give me any sort of sympathy. Any sort of love. “I hate that Father treats you the way he does. I’m coming over tomorrow.”

“Father doesn’t want you over.” After she married Nikolai, Father punished her for it, even though none of it was her choice. He doesn’t want her apart of the family even though he still works with her husband on mafia business. Things I’m not really told about but I know can’t be good.

“I don’t care. I’m bringing you over here. I’ll throw you a party. You deserve it.”

“You can’t plan a party in a day.”

“I can and I will.” Lana was always competitive. As a ballerina, she fought hard for the roles she wanted but after she was shot in the leg, she stopped her career. She still dances though and her competitiveness will never fully go away, which I’m happy for. I don’t want my sister to completely change because I’m not ready for change yet. “You deserve a party, Elena. If our parents can’t see that… then that’s on them. You have class tomorrow, right?”

“Yes. I have a test on Fyodor Dostoevsky. Crime and Punishment. It’s a big part of my grade.”