Maybe
1175 Words
HAZEL
When I wake up the next morning, I have bags under my eyes. I feel tired. Beaten up.
It’s the same exhaustion I felt during those first few weeks here....When I cried, begged, and waited for Axel to let me go. When every day felt like a punishment for something I couldn’t remember doing.
So why did I think last night would be any different?
I sit up slowly, my body heavy with sleep that didn’t rest me. Maybe it’s time I stop fighting this. Maybe it’s time I accept that this is my life.....not forever, but for now.
Everybody must be right. I’m just here for a while. I’m not going to be here forever. My time here has an expiration date.
I don’t know why Axel wants me here. I don’t know what purpose I serve. But I know this much: when he finally lets me go, I don’t want to be broken beyond repair.
Still… Kat’s voice won’t leave my head. Is that what he’s waiting for?
For me to break?
For me to crumble so completely that I’m no longer worth his time, so that letting me go becomes worth it?
I shake my head hard, forcing the thought away, and pull myself out of bed.
Routine. That’s what I need. I shower. I get dressed. I walk downstairs to have breakfast.
Sometimes Axel is there, sometimes he isn’t.
This morning, he isn’t.
Thank God.
Angela brings in my breakfast, as usual. She doesn’t speak much, just gives me that careful, sympathetic look that makes me want to disappear into the plate.
I eat. Then I spend the day outside, walking the garden paths, pretending I’m free. I read a book I can’t focus on. I play with the piano keys, making music that doesn’t sound like music, but it’s fun and something to do. It fills the silence.
And somehow, without realizing, the day turns into evening. By the time the sky turns dusk, I already know what’s next. Dinner.
So I get ready. And of course, Axel is there.
We sit across from each other, eating in silence. Angela moves like a ghost between us, serving, refilling, retreating.
We don’t talk. We don’t look at each other for too long. I just want it to end. I want to finish my food, excuse myself, and disappear upstairs to the safety of my room.
I’ll find another way to leave. Or maybe I’ll just wait it out until he finally gets bored with me.
Then his voice cuts through the silence.
“Did you hear me?”
I look up, startled.
“Huh?” I ask, blinking.
He’s watching me. There’s a hint of something, annoyance? Amusement?—in his eyes. I can’t tell. I was too lost in my head to notice what he said before.
“Did you say something?” I ask.
I hate it when he’s just watching me like that, when his silence feels heavier than his words.
“Yes,” he says, turning back toward his food. “I asked if you were okay.”
I can’t help myself, I scoff. “Thank you so much for caring about me, Warden.”
He releases this half-smirk, unfazed, and continues eating. I sigh and push my chair back.
“I’m full. I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”
“Please, sit down,” he says. A command.
So I sit.
He wipes his mouth with a napkin, then leans back slightly, his eyes fixed on me.
“I have this public dinner I have to attend. It’s a bunch of useless politicians and businessmen, people who laugh in your face and plot behind your back. We know how two-faced those men can be,” he says.
“Like you, you mean?” I mutter.
He doesn’t even flinch. He just keeps talking as if I didn’t say anything.
“So,” he continues, “I was wondering if you could join me. Be my plus one.”
“Oh, like a date?” I ask, that sarcastic laugh slipping through before I can stop it. The kind of laugh that’s not really laughter, more like an accusation wrapped in disbelief.
“You know that thing girls in love would do when their prospects ask them out?”
He scoffs, clearly amused. “So, what do you say?” he continues as if he didn’t hear my question, as if my question didn’t really matter.
I fold my arms and look him straight in the eye. “Wouldn’t you rather have someone else go with you? Like Kat, for example? She’d make a great date. You know why? Because she actually wants to be there. And you.....” I lean forward slightly
“ You should be scared to bring me out in public. I mean, taking me to clubs and your private parties is okay, I guess, because all those people are people like you. But we’re talking about the normal people, politicians, maybe even cops or people from intelligence. Aren't you scared I might run to someone and tell them what you're doing?”
I keep my gaze on him, refusing to back down.
He holds my eyes for a long moment before he says, calmly,
“So what you’re saying is that you’re jealous of Kat.”
“What?” I ask, incredulous. “That’s what you got from everything I said? That I’m jealous of Kat?”
“Yes,” he says simply. “So are you?”
“Of course not!” I shoot back. “Why would I be jealous of her? Why..... of what?”
He just smiles, the kind that makes my blood boil. “Don’t worry. Kat’s more of the woman in the dark. Besides, I want to take you.”
“But I’m not one of your women,” I snap.
His smile deepens. “Be ready at eight,” he says, standing.
His eyes trail over me, slow and deliberate. I can tell he’s about to say something that’ll make me want to throw something at him.
“Wear something…” he pauses, his mouth curling, “…nice.”
I roll my eyes so hard it almost hurts.
“You can go now,” he adds, turning back towards his phone.
I stand, angry and humiliated, and stomp out of there, my footsteps echoing through the hall until I reach my bedroom.
I know what that was.
He made it seem like he was asking me if I wanted to go, like he was giving me a choice. But he wasn’t. He was commanding me, not asking. There was never really a choice. There never is with him.
But then, I could also use this to my advantage.
He told me himself, it’s going to be a room full of powerful men. Politicians. Businessmen. People who shake hands with smiles and stab backs with silence.
Maybe one of them can help me.
Maybe one of them can save me.
From him.
From this.
- Writer
