Your Silver Bullets Won't Save You Now

“Carta. There you are. Feher said you ran away from school!” My mother shouted as she ran towards me, engulfing me in a hug.

I sighed and carefully detached myself from her vice like grip.

My father stood silently in the door frame of the Living room, his face red with anger.

“Go and get yourself cleaned up, Feher is joining us for dinner. I want you looking nice for him.” My mother said quietly, as with a silent glare my father disappeared back into the living room.

“I don’t want to eat dinner with Feher, I don’t like him Mother, can’t you see that? We have nothing in common, and besides he’s an ass.”

She growled at me and I took a step back, not accustomed to my mother being angry with me.

“Can’t you see that Feher is the best husband for you? He’s responsible, well respected and respect means power.” She hissed.

“You need to grow up and accept your responsibilities, your father hasn’t got long left before he’ll be stepping down, and right now you just aren’t up for the job. So grow up Carta. Grow up and accept your life for what it is.” With that she turned, straightening her skirt and disappeared into the living room.

“Oh Feher, I was just telling Carta, how wonderful you looked this evening.” Her fake laced voice echoed around the room.
I looked down at the ground and back up at the closing living room door, tears welling up in my eyes, my eyes stinging.

I blinked and slowly a tear rolled down my cheek.

She was right, I had no option out of this.

After all, tradition is tradition.
***

I stepped sadly out of the shower, blow drying my hair, while not really focusing on anything.

For a change I was not thinking thoughts of what life could be, the embarrassment of earlier meant nothing to me now.

“I have to grow up.” I whispered, I had never seen my mother with so much hate in her before, not to anyone.

I refused to cry, having done enough of that in the shower, as I brushed my hair, until smooth.

I walked out, into my bedroom, picking up the dress my mother had laid out for me.

I sighed as I climbed into it, and turned to my mirror, applying light make up.

I looked in the mirror and sighed once more, I had never seen anyone as depressed as the girl who stood in the mirror staring back at me, her green eyes, watery with unshed tears and troubled with fears.

Her black hair, straight and long, but hanging limply compared to the life she contained.

I turned, heading out of my room, now was my turn to be fake.

My mother was right, I was to grow up and I would start now, no matter how much it killed me inside.

I made my way down the stairs, feeling like a convict on death row, taking my final few steps until my life was over.

I pushed the living room door lightly, my mother grabbing the door handle, as I knew she would, and swinging it open to reveal the rest of the room.

My father sat in his arm chair, a glass of whiskey resting on the arm, he had been in conversation with Feher’s father, who looked like a pig in a tux, as he lounged on the far sofa, his wife huddled into his side, as though she were afraid of the world.

Looking at them I saw my future with Feher and I hated, hated it with an unconceivable passion, but couldn’t say that.

Instead I smiled warmly and greeted each of them.

“Mr & Mrs Antise , it’s a pleasure to see you again.” For a moment both looked stunned, but then Mr Anties spoke.

“The pleasure is all ours, may I say you look lovely this evening. If only I were 40 years younger...” A chuckle went around the room, which I was forced to join in, despite by burning passion to scoff at him.

“Now, now father, calm your self.” An arrogant, cocky voice said, causing another ripple of laughter.

I turned to Feher, his eyes focused on my eyes for a second, before running the length of my body.

I suppressed a shudder and the insult which was begging to escape my lips.

He stood slowly, his eyes dark and calculative as he walked towards me, taking my hand in his, he raised it to his lips.

His mere touch making me want to be sick.

“Good evening Carta. You look…delicious.” He whispered it like it were a prayer, as his eyes stayed on mine as he kissed my hand.

I heard my mother sigh in content, when I didn’t’ react but instead allowed Feher to lead me back to the sofa he had been sat on.

I looked over to see Mr Antise, nod his head at my father, my father’s face instantly lighting up, he then turned to my mother who practically giggled, as she perched on an arm chair opposite my father.

I began to wonder what they were talking about, when I felt a hand on my leg.

Instantly my head snapped to it, and I was very aware of all the eyes in the room watching what I would do.

I looked up at Feher, trying to contain my anger and not let it show in what I hoped was a casual glance.

He too was watching me, a small smirk playing on his lips.

I forced my lips into a smile, before turning back around, placing my hand over his and ignoring the need to crush it.

I looked up at my mother, my eyes screaming at her for forcing this life upon me, her eyes filled with happiness.

I looked over to my father, who for the first time in as long as I could remember looked happy.

Honestly, I had never seen the two of them happier, and it made me feel…happy too, despite the circumstances.

I smiled at my father, who was caught off guard but returned it.

A maid came in, whispering something to my mother.

“Dinner is ready, shall we...?” She announced motioning to the adjoining door.

The Antise‘s nodded and stood, Mr Antise, leading the way for his wife, my father took my mother’s hand and led her, leaving just me and Feher.

He stood first, and I fell into place behind him, standing at his side, as he offered me his arm.

“Shall we…?” his voice asked, almost sounding like a dare.

With a quick nod, which I once again hoped didn’t show my real anger, we linked arms and he led me from the room and into the dinning room.