Stockholm Syndrome // sm

Chapter Six

I groaned internally as Emerald fixed my hair, loose curls falling on my shoulders. A dark black and burgundy smokey eye covered my eyelids, a glossy finish to my pale lips, and a perfectly blended contour. My makeup never looked so good, and I only blame myself for never learning how to properly apply half of it.

"Perfect." She praised, tightening the silver metal belt that wrapped around my waist. I almost couldn't breathe. It was too tight.

I raised my hand to my waist, wincing slightly as she fixed it. Her hands wrapped around my shoulders, forcing me to stand up straight. "Confidence. Confidence. Confidence." She repeated to me. "Believe in yourself."

"I don't want to go-"

"You have no choice." She snapped, her temper running short at my inability to accept that I had some kind of 'job' to do.

"Of course not." I muttered bitterly, looking at the fake press on nails I had on. They were painted a matte black with glittery silver decorations, my fourth finger painted the shiny silver color. It caught the light beautifully, though I wouldn't admit it outloud.

"Mr. Mendes!" Emerald shouted, walking away from me. I stared in the mirror, wondering who the girl staring back at me was.

Dull brown eyes were framed with layers of fake lashes, and her waist was squeezed to a size that it should not be. A tight bodycon dress adorned her body, riding up in the middle, and barely passing her bum. Shining black heels were on her feet, making her look more like a woman than a seventeen year old girl.

Who was she? Because I know that she wasn't me.

I looked away, blinking the tears away as reality hit me like a soocer ball. I was dressed up for a boy I wish would just drop off the face of the Earth. I was going to a banquet of a man who stripped me from my life. Best part, I didn't have a say in any of this really.

Before I could walk away, I heard Emerald's amused voice. "What is that around your neck?" She asked, reaching for the locket I wore.

I was quick to smack her hand away, holding on the to beautiful silver piece. "It's mine." I hissed as her hands pressed against her hips.

She rose an eyebrow at me and then grabbed my arm, pushing me into a wall roughly, zero regard for my well-being. It hurt a lot more than I'd admit.

"Listen here Red," she sneered, her eyes hard and cold as they looked into mine. "You better keep your attitude on lock. I will not hesitate to backhand you. Shawn may not want to put you in your place, but I will."

She let go of me and I cradled my arm in pain, glad the dress was long sleeved to hide the upcoming bruise of her iron grip. She wrapped her hand around my necklace, yanking it from my neck in one swift motion.

The clasp broke, and she shoved it in her pocket. "It was ugly anyways." She told me, walking away angrily. I was too frightened of her to try and fight back.

Tears filled my eyes and I pressed my fingers against my neck, the weight of my necklace missing. I felt even more lost than I already was, even more trapped. Now I had nothing to remind me of my family, that locket was the only thing I had.

I didn't even feel an ounce of guilt for most-likely ruining the makeup that took hours to fix. I looked at the floor, an empty feeling inside as a soft knock was on my door. "Jennifer?"

I didn't reply.

"Hey-"

Shawn stopped midsentence, noticing my distraught state. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asked me, grabbing my arm gently, making me wince softly. "You can talk to me."