The Forgotten

The Forgotten (3)

“What the hell is your problem?” I demanded. “There’s no problem here.” Marcus replied. “Then why the hell are you holding onto my arm?” I asked. “I like the feel of it.” He replied in an amused voice. “Well I don’t so get the fuck off of me.” I told him and wrenched my arm out of his grasp. “I really thought you were a shy girl that I could have fun with on the plane.” He stated. “Well I guess you’ve realised now that first impressions can be very deceiving.” I snarled back at him. He smirked at me and in that moment I wanted to punch him in the face. “You’re definitely right about that.” He told me.

*A few hours before*

We arrived in front of a pretty nice looking hotel. The woman’s name was Sarah and she had been explaining what would happen. I was about to meet a group of teenagers who had recently been through traumatic experiences and then we would be paired up with people who have already been on the retreat who will help us. I was led upstairs into a meeting room. “Okay good; everyone’s here.” A man announced from the side of the room. “Hey Vanessa; I’m Isaac and I’ll be your group leader for the next month.” He told me and I nodded politely at him. We were all forced to stand in a circle and introduce ourselves. “Hi, I’m Vanessa and 17 years old. Nice to meet you.” I told them. They all nodded back at me and once the introductions were done, we all sat down. “I know that most of you won’t be comfortable telling everyone what happened to you to a group of people you’ve just met so don’t worry, you’re not going to do that.” Isaac told us and I breathed a sigh of relief. Just then there was a knock on the door and another group of teenagers walked through the door. “You’ll be telling it to them.” Isaac finished. I let out an inward groan and I prayed for a miracle.

“As you should know by now, you will be put into pairs with people who have already been through this experience. I know what you’ve been through individually so I’m going to pair you with someone that you will be most uncomfortable with.” He told us. My eyes widened at this. Is he serious? I thought Isaac was nice; I never would’ve thought he was a sadist. “You will be staying with your pairs in the same hotel room and you will spend a month getting to know each other and becoming friends.” Isaac continued. How the fuck is making friends going to help me? “Once you make friends with someone who you are most uncomfortable with, you will get over your experience and learn to live your life.” He finished. I highly doubt that. He started to read out the list of pairs. “Vanessa you’ll be with Marcus.” Isaac informed me and went on with the list. Wait, did he just say Marcus? I looked up to see an amused Marcus looking at me. Kill me now.

“I didn’t realise I would be seeing you again.” Marcus commented. “Me neither.” I mumbled as we made our way to our room. “I’m kinda confused.” Marcus commented as I looked around the room. “With what?” I asked. “You’re uncomfortable with boys, right?” He asked. “Yes.” I bit out. “Why do you dress like that then? You’re wearing tight clothes that would make any guy wanna approach you and makeup.” He said. “I’m sorry that I’m exceeding your low expectations. I didn’t really have anything else to wear and the makeup is my sister. In any case, it’s not that tight is it?” I replied. He looked me over and a hungry expression appeared on his face. “Actually, don’t even answer that.” I told him quickly. “My eyes are up here Marcus!” I snapped and he grinned. “Sorry about that.” He told me but he didn’t seem apologetic in the least. “Is it alright if I go take a shower? I’m pretty tired.” I asked. He nodded and then I grabbed my wash stuff, cream and pyjamas and then walked into the bathroom. I made sure to lock the door behind me; I definitely didn’t trust Marcus not to peak.

I came out of the bathroom quite a while later. My eyes were all puffy and red because I had to rub my eyes trying to get the mascara off. Marcus looked up from his bed with a smile but it was instantly replaced with a frown. “Did you spend all your time crying in there?” He asked. “No.” I replied. “You’re eyes are all red and puffy though.” He argued. “Forgot to take off the makeup with wipes so I had to rub my eyes a lot to get it off.” I explained breezily. He didn’t look convinced but he let the matter drop. “Another thing; I didn’t realise traumatic girls had such good hair.” He commented. “I’ve spent my life growing this hair so I make sure to take care of it.” I replied and then I started to cornrow it. “I didn’t mean that you had to change it.” He told me with a frown. I laughed at him. “I do this before I go to bed so it doesn’t go everywhere.” I told him. “You actually have quite long hair.” He stated clearly surprised. For a black girl. I silently filled in.

“I think it’s because I have a little bit of Brazilian in me.” I told him after a while of silence. He raised an eyebrow. I don’t look Brazilian at all. “Wanna hear about my roots?” I asked him smiling a bit. He nodded. “Basically my great great great great great grandma was Brazilian. She decided to move to Ghana – don’t ask me why because for the life of me, I don’t know – and then she married a Ghanaian man and had kids. Their kids married Ghanaians and so on and so forth. Just as we thought that all traces of Brazil had factored out of the family, my great grandma married a half Brazilian man. They then had my had my grandma and she married a Ghanaian man who is obviously my granddad and they had my mum. My mum married my dad and had me and my sister and my brother.” I smiled at the end of the story. “You know you could’ve just said your great granddad was half Brazilian; it would’ve saved a lot of time.” He told me.

I waited until it sunk in and then I got pissed off. “You know what fuck off.” I said quietly before trying to stomp past him but he grabbed onto my arm.

*Present time*

“What the hell is your problem?” I demanded. “There’s no problem here.” Marcus replied. “Then why the hell are you holding onto my arm?” I asked. “I like the feel of it.” He replied in an amused voice. “Well I don’t so get the fuck off of me.” I told him and wrenched my arm out of his grasp. “I really thought you were a shy girl that I could have fun with on the plane.” He stated. “Well I guess you’ve realised now that first impressions can be very deceiving.” I snarled back at him. He smirked at me and in that moment I wanted to punch him in the face. “You’re definitely right about that.” He told me.

I glared at him and then finally with a laugh he let go of me. I went over to my bed and got underneath the covers. “You need to realise sweetheart that you’re going to have to get along with me. You’re living with me for a month and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.” He taunted me. “You need to realise I am not you’re sweetheart. Don’t push me too far Marcus. You won’t like me as Vanessa the bitch. Trust me.” I told him, my voice deadly. “Sweet dreams.” He told me. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of that one person who kept of haunting me in the darkest realms of my nightmares.

Picture of Marcus at the side >>>>