SECRETS

CHAPTER 3: ROSEHILL

The view was spectacular. For a moment i forgot i was being forced to be here. Maybe it wouldnt be so bad after all. But what was it? The fact that i had no idea what i was doing here pushed aside all the beautiful thoughts.
Well, atleast i woke up to a nice breakfast.

'The car's waiting for you miss.' Marcelo announced.
  Again? I was getting tired of the frequent migration. I got in the car,and sulked in the seat.

'Is there a problem?' He said looking straight at the road.

'Yes. Where are we going?'

He sighed. Clearly tired that i was asking the same question over and over. 'You will know when we get there.'

And i was tired of the same response.

The town was beautiful. I watched the cars go by and the boutiques lined by the streets, the london eye. I wish i had my phone to take some photos. But oh well, if wishes were horses.

I was disappointed when the car came to a stop. But even more suprised when i saw where it had stopped. Urban Outfitters? We were at a clothing store.

Wait? Was i practically being kidnapped to be taken on a shopping spree? Marcelo handed me a credit card and instructed me to buy anything that i probably needed. Atleast i was getting a bit of pleasurable time choosing clothes and deciding what colour looked best on me.
Somehow it reminded me of Carolina. We'd spend hours moving from store to store just to look for a shoe or a purse. The last time we went shopping together, we were looking for a  dress for my prom. I tried not to get teary but i couldnt control it.

She was gone. Somehow i had to accept it. But it wasnt as easy as saying it.  Letting go of someone you loved.

Once i was done doing the shopping i paid at the cashier's. I met Marcelo there. He was holding a pink suitcase and a duffel bag.
'Pink's not really your colour Marcelo' i joked.
'These just happen to be yours' he replied. So i guessed we were going to go somewhere else. He handed my stuff and the bags to one of the attendants. She returned 15 minutes later. But there were no shopping bags and the suitcase was heavy. She packed the stuff? Now i was assured that we were actually moving somewhere. Somehow i hoped we'd still be in London. I was too awestruck by the scenery to feel like going away. Yet again, i don't really get much of a choice.

The bags were all loaded into the car. We got in and this time Marcelo didnt say anything like 'are you comfortable miss?'. Its weird how in all of this, he still manages to be polite.

Once the car was on the road again, i got back to staring at the streets and getting lost in the way everything was getting by. One of those people should be me...or i should be one of those people. I too deserved that life. To live normal. To cross the road, eat at restaurants, take selfies at road sides with my friends. Its not fair. No one should be subject to a life like this just because of their parents.

You're probably wondering what my parents did,right? Or why i talk about them as if i despised them. Well i do. Everything's their fault. If my father wasnt obsessed with being a politician and hell bent on getting power, maybe i wouldnt even be here. My sister would still be alive. My mom wouldnt have turned to alcohol as her solace.

I tried not to escape the thoughts by blocking everything around me but sometimes no matter how hard you try, the weight of the past cant be ignored.

I took a look at the road again. The busy city was fading away. Less people could be seen and heard. 'What happened. Where are we going?' I asked Marcelo

'Miss, you will know...' i interrupted him.'  'I know i know...when we get there'.

I sulked back into the seat. Waiting. I remembered Chris and what he had slipped into my pocket. It was kinda like those toy barbie phones i used to play with when i was a kid. I figured i was supposed to communicate to him with it.

I guess we were now on the hilly side of the country. The view wasnt that bad,though i prefered the city side. The ride was quiet. Too quiet for my liking.

'What am i going to do here? Why didnt i come with Chris? What about my friends back in Sydney, my education?' I expected the same response as usual. But i got something different.

'Look, i wish i could answer all your questions. I wish none of this was happening. But i've got no authority in this. Honestly, this isnt my story to write.' he replied.

Time frantically flew by. The quiet road seemed to come to a stop at the front of a gate. It stood tall with fancy iron bars, all twisted and turned like vines. It had this mysterious vibe, like it was holding all sorts of secrets inside.

As the gate swung open, Marcelo cruised through. The winding path, enveloped by lush trees and vibrant plants, gave off an institutional vibe. At first, I couldn't spot any signs or labels, and for a moment, I feared being thrust into one of those foster homes. But then, in the distance, I caught sight of a few individuals donning school uniforms. It was a surprise to find myself being brought to a school of all places!

Marcelo swiftly stepped out of the car, his strong hands effortlessly retrieving my bags from the trunk. As he carefully set them down, I couldn't help but notice the briefcase he held in his hand again.

He motioned for me to stay in the car for a bit. I got a glimpse of lavish buildings, fountains and a bunch of marble statues. I saw him enter a building with grand pillars and astonishinng architectural designs. He got back a few minutes later,this time no briefcase.

'Now that we're finally here,can i please know.... where is here?' I questioned. He took off his black shades that he pretty much wore all the time.
He smiled.'You will know once you get inside'.
I frowned and crossed my arms.'Must i always be kept in suspense?'. But then i looked at him. His smile was sad.

'Ms. Charlotte Dove, I Marcelo Doriga,from today on i rid myself of any duty towards you. I nolonger work for you. I do not hold responsibility towards you any more.'

Wait. What was he saying? I couldn't believe it. It had to be a joke. Everybody's left. Not him too. He's always been there. Through the good times, the bad, the terrible. I looked at him again, his tall, muscular frame and his afro-Latino charm. The thought of never seeing him again was unimaginable.

'I hope you find your stay here pleasurable enough. It might not be..but i hope you find it so. Don't miss me, there's alot in store for you here.'he said

I stood there, stunned by Marcelo's unexpected announcement. My heart sank as I tried to process his words. "Wait, Marcelo, you can't be serious,"

I pleaded, my voice trembling. "Dont leave me too"
His smile remained sad, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and determination.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that our time together had come to an end. It was a bittersweet moment, filled with uncertainty and a newfound sense of independence.