It's been about five months. The worst five months of my life. I've lost a fairly large amount of weight. I drank lots of water and usually only ate breakfast. I don’t know if Carlton was meaning to starve me or if he really thought I should lose weight.
My roots were growing out. The hair was growing back. Carlton brought home hair dye and waxing strips one night. That was worse then I could of ever imagined. Just a suggestion, don’t let some amateur dye your hair and read the instructions on the waxing strips before you use them.
The next day, I woke up in the bed and slowly wiggled out of Carlton's grasp. As I was about to leave the room, he grabbed my hand telling me today was a big day. I really hope we weren’t going to move. I don’t think I could survive trying to adapt to a new environment.
It was a rare occasion that we would sit at the table and eat breakfast together. At first, I stared down at my cereal while Carlton wouldn’t stop staring at me. After a few minutes of this, he started bombarding me with questions about myself.
"What do you like to do? Do you play sports? Instruments? What games do you like?" It was odd. We never talked about myself, besides what I was wearing or the amount of hair on my body.
I thought he might let me do something for once like go outside but I was locked in the laundry room again. He came back that night with a "present." A present could’ve been more hair dye or- god forbid- more waxing strips. I walked into his bedroom to see a perfectly new guitar sitting in a black case on the bed. It was a beautiful guitar, one of the nicest I’ve ever seen.
"What's this?" I asked, walking around the bed to sit on Carlton's lap. The months I've been here, I've realized that escaping is impossible. I once left the apartment while Carlton was asleep but the attendant working in the lobby brought me back to the room. I still have a bruise from his reaction.
I’m just trying to stay on his good side. If staying on his good side means I have to sit on his lap and feel him get a boner, so be it. I told myself in the beginning I wouldn’t change for this guy but if I didn’t change, I would be dead. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices in order to stay alive. You may not feel alive, but you’re physically alive.
"This, baby, is a new guitar for you," he nodded, stroking my hair. I haven't touched a guitar since I was last home. It was a bittersweet memory. "Tomorrow is a new day, since you're being an extra good girl, you'll start you first job tomorrow on the boardwalk!"
The first thing I did was panic. I haven't been outside in a few months. I haven't talked to anyone but Carlton. His wife went back to their old home so it was just us two, all the time. I should be ecstatic to be on my own for once but all I was was afraid. This could be a train wreck.
//
The next morning, I was given a new pair of clothes. A tank top and denim shorts. Carlton said I had to look decent for my job today and I was still clueless. This must be important if I’m getting a new wardrobe. Yes, my wardrobe was 3 shirts and maybe 4 pairs of pants. It was mid summer and it was the prime time for families to come on vacation. The beaches were packed from when the sun came up to when it went down.
Carlton was holding my guitar as we walked down to the boardwalk. I wasn’t quite sure why he decided to bring it until we got to an empty spot on the boardwalk. There was a sign on a post that said “Performers Only.” My hands started to shake again and Carlton gave me a kiss on the cheek, like that was supposed to make everything better.
"Play some songs, get some cash, I'll be back later," and he left. He was just leaving me here? I should've ran or called the police or anything. But I got out that damn guitar and played.
I did this everyday for about 3 hours. It was tiring. There was a record shop on the boardwalk where Carlton bought me some current songbooks. I didn’t listen to the radio or any type of music anymore. I didn’t know the songs on the charts. I like to consider myself as a throwback performer, only singing songs from months or even years ago.
There were regulars that sat and listened to me play everyday. It was actually very nice and the best part of the day. These complete strangers knew absolutely nothing about me except what I looked like and my voice, and they supported me.
Carlton would occasionally walk by and look in my guitar case for cash. He took all of the money whether it was $2 or $32. I wish I would get a share of the profits but that would cause some drama and I really didn’t want that. I never tried to argue with Carlton because he always found a way to be right.
I was packing up one day when a boy about my age came up to me. He had blonde hair with a black stripe in the middle. He wore black jeans and a black "All Time Low" shirt. The last song I had just performed was ‘Backseat Serenade’ and the band name on the shirt was ringing a bell. I’m not quite sure why he was wearing jeans though because I was sweating bullets and I was wearing shorts. We stood in silence as I finished putting my guitar in its case and stuffing the money I earned in a bag.
"Hi," he said as I started walking away. I wasn't supposed to talk to people, it was one of the rules.
I met eyes with Carlton and he saw the boy next to me, nodding for me to talk to him. I didn’t expect this to happen. Over the course of the months I’d been locked away, I formed a slight social anxiety when it came to talking. Singing wasn’t a problem, but talking was not one of my talents.
I felt like I had forgotten how to greet someone. Do you say ‘hey’ or ‘hi’ or ‘hello’ or do you shake their hand? Wait you don’t shake hands with teenage boys, that’s weird. I’m weird. Oh god, he was staring at me. I swear if I have anything on my face I will scream. Oh shit, I still need to answer him.
"Uh hi," I said after a minute or two of silence. He probably thought I was thinking of something witty and amazing to say during the moments of silence but I say ‘uh hi.’ My mind turned into jelly.
"You're really good at guitar you know, what's your name?" he asked, walking too close to me on the boardwalk. What was my name? Such a simple question that I didn't even know the answer to. I had to look at Carlton for some reassurance. What is my name?
"It's- uh- Cameron," that's what Carlton told me to say if I ever met someone. I stepped farther apart from the boy and sped up a little. The boy tried to catch up to me but I increased my speed. My hands started to sweat and I couldn't help but feel sick. I can't be in public. I can't talk to anyone but Carlton. This was a bad idea. I liked when I didn’t have to talk to anyone and I could just nod as a thank you for putting money in my case.
Boys just ruin everything.
a/n
so i haven't updated in 3 months and idk why i just was lazy and i sorta just realized that wrote like 18 chapters of a fanfic and i wasn't going to waste it so now i'm posting!! it's also christmas eve and maybe i'll post again later or tomorrow!! i hope you guys like the update (woo michael))
- em :-)
