mirrorball. (✔️)

∘SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN → TIME 

the first months was rough. my aunt had deleted all my contacts from my phone- and claiming it was to 'clear my mind.'

i remember when i first arrived she had set candles all over my room to 'clear me of any bad aura' as it was 'bad for the baby.'

she lived in a house in a remote town, made of oak wood and surrounded by lakes. one time i meditated naked on the lake that ran through the back garden, and it actually was quite calming. she also had her house decorated with russian dolls and indian elephants meaning good luck. she also had weird napkins with positive quotes written on them.

the second month wasn't any easier. there was arguments. so many arguments.

 'stop smoking, dolores!' 'stop drinking!' 'throw away that weed!' 

back and forth. back and forth. 

'why can't i see boris?' 'do you know where he is?' 'can i call him and tell him how i am?'

this continued through to my fourth month, when i finally gave up. i forbid myself to let boris's name slip from my mouth. my mind was a mindless cycle of nothingness. sweep the floors, meditate, bathe, smoke, vomit, read, sleep- then repeat it all over again.

then, in my sixth of being there- i was 7 months pregnant. and i was big. my stomach was protruding so much so that i could barely step out of the house without tumbling over myself. 

i remember so specifically when i got my scan. when i found out i was due to have a baby girl i remember bursting into tears, wanting so desperately to call boris.

i wished he was there, holding my hand and listening to the small heartbeat within me, and watching the little person move around in my stomach with their very own body that we created. 

but thats not how it went at all. instead, it was awfully quiet. the nurse was looking at me as if i was some sort of slut. an animal. her eyes where mean. i remember them. 

 my aunt was there with tears of joy- as i was crying with sadness. i remember sobbing into her shirt whispering i wanted to speak to boris but no matter what i said or did she wouldn't allow it.

then eventually, my ninth month rolled around. and it was hell. i was a mess. my body was ready to burst, but i still couldn't even use the bath without making the water too hot- let alone give birth.

and on august 10th, little annie was born. 

i was sixteen.

god it was painful. i was in labour for 19 hours, switching from squatting on the ground and kneeling on my hands and knees on the bed. 

my aunt was there, talking me through it. she was nice, and supportive. 

but she wasn't boris.

he was all i wanted when i held annie for the first time. he was the one who i wanted to hold her hand, and introduce himself as if he was a peasant and annie was royalty. i wanted him to be the one to sing her polish lullabies softly when she had nightmares, and hold her hand when she crossed the street, and kiss her goodbye for her first day of preschool.

but instead, i had to raise annie alone. i had to sing her polish lullabies and i had to hold her hand when she crossed the street and i had to kiss her goodbye for her first day of preschool.

'where is daddy?' she had asked one day, at her third birthday. gosh, she was smart. so bright and witted.

'he went for a trip. he will come home soon, i promise.' i had told her tenderly, as i stroked her thick dark curls. 

and it was when i was 19 years old that i met george, a fresh blonde haired blue eyed doctor that was kind and quick thinking. 

a year later we wed- and he was who i called annie's father.

sure, he wasn't boris, but he held her hand when they crossed the street, and read her bedtime stories and kissed her goodbye after making her lunch which was packed and ready for school.

i was okay. i had left my life in england behind me, and blanked it out completely.

sometimes while i would be washing the dishes my mind would wonder to think about boris. what he was doing, who he was with, if he was married, if he had kids.

but then i'd look down at annie, seven years old and bright as day, asking; 'mom, where did you grow up? can we go there?'

and that...that's the day i decided to pack up my things for a few days, and take annie on a little trip...

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STAY TUNED ! WE HAVE TWO MORE CHAPTERS TO GO.

i know this chapter was skipping over a very large and vague amount of time, but i thought you guys deserved a little insight to what happened to dolores after she left :)

next chapter is going to be a rollercoaster so get those tissues ready!