Fly Away

03 - maybe i should just run

I'm looking in the mirror. The glass is pristine, freshly cleaned and wiped down, stripped of the bacteria and cloudiness and deformation that comes when you look at yourself in a dirty mirror.

But the deformation is still there.

It's such a shame that I resemble my father quite a bit. Our hair is our biggest similarity, black and wavy. My cheekbones also follow the same slant as his and my chin is an almost exact replica. My eyes, though. They stand out against the dark shades of my hair and severe lines of my face, contrasted so much by my true nature.

When people say 'blue eyes', they always picture bright, sky blue, too overwhelming to be nice. My eyes are rimmed in a dark blue, like the ocean, and specks of a lighter blue are hidden away within the contours and fragments.

I'v always loved my eyes. It's been the only thing I don't hate about myself mostly because they are so different from my parents'. My mother has blue eyes too, but not the same as mine, and so I take this as an opportunity and revel in our differences.

It's an hour before I have to sign the contract, and I'm shaking all over. I hate myself for being so compliant. I hate myself for not standing up for myself. I hate myself for not running when I have the chance.

I look down at my outfit, one of many that I'v thrown around the room in a haste to look half decent.

A cream cropped wool jumper and bell bottomed black jeans with my Doc's is the last outfit I'm changing into.

The only reason I'm taking care with how I look is because I need this family to have a good impression of me. I can't be walking around in sweats all day, and I have to try and save myself from any torture this agreement will bring.

I refuse to call it a marriage, because I don't want to taint the concept with this cruel situation.

Just thinking about it makes me dizzy with incredulity and anger. The anger again, coming back in waves, especially when I look at myself.

Maybe I should change.

My room is in an even bigger tip than it was in yesterday, and I don't bother tidying away. Maybe if I leave it like this, I can come back home and resume my miserable life. Nothing of mine is packed, and everything seems so normal but out of place and I can't help but think that I'm going to miss it. The clutter, the comfort, the cherries.

Maybe I should change.

I turn and pick up Zeus from his place on the floor behind me, watching me. He seems to smile, and I pet behind his ears before picking up my phone from my dumpster of a bed and walking out of my room.

I have no idea where I'm supposed to go for this contract signing. My father didn't tell me anything.

I walk down the hall towards his office and stand outside for what seems like forever before I take one hell of a deep breath and knock.