Arranged Marriage

I swallow a fear that takes over my already numb body as, from the back of the class I eye everybody in the room. There, three rows up sits the most terrifying boy I've met in my miserable life. Tyler Lhock, the boy who always gets a C-average. Tyler Lhock, who when I was seven, pushed my face into the sandbox. Tyler Lhock, who always managed to screw up my life, even though it was already in ruins. Tyler Lhock, whose family is richer than mine, even though my dad runs one of the biggest companies in North America.

As I cringe, pulling my sleeves further down my wrists, I fail to realize that the bell rings, indicating the end of the day. What does set me off is the movement. All the chairs, scraping against the waxed floor, all the chattering idiots, and Tyler. He turns towards me and walks. Slowly and menacingly, he smirks. That familiar smirk that gives me goosebumps, that gives me headaches when I think about it for too long. I'm sure he'll be my killer one day.

I stand, shaking visibly. I am weak and weary of his pain. "Well, hello little girl," Tyler spits at me, grabbing my hair. I gasp, gripping at his hand as he lifts me easily. He's much, much bigger than I am. "Ready to have some fun today?"

"Please, Tyler... Let go of me," I whimper, biting my lip. I struggle against his grip as he raises his free arm and forms a fist. I cry out as his fist hits my gut, reddened spittle spewing out of me. My eyes, filled with tears flash to his face, a wicked grin on his lips.

"Why should I? You're much too fun, pal." He smirks, lowering me until I'm standing again. "Come on, lets go to our lockers now, shall we?"

I nod wearily and he lets go of my hair; grabbing my waist and pulling me too closely towards him. He takes my bag and carries it, something I would find chivalrous from anyone other than him. As we walk out of the class, I try my best not to look like I'm in danger. If I do, everyone will laugh at me; the sad, fat ugly girl who's being bullied by Tyler, one of the 'populars'.

When I was nine, my mother and little brother died. For a while, my father wouldn't tell me of their deaths. But I knew. He'd sit in his office, facing the window, and he'd cry. When he thought I wasn't looking, he'd let out a sob. Until one day, about three months from Christmas, he told me. Mom had been distracted, swerved the car into a lake. They were driving to apply for summer camp for Tommy and I. When I found out I crawled up into dad's lap and cried. Eventually he started crying again, and we both just cried for a while. Now I'm sixteen, and sometimes I still cry- even though I've found other ways. I cut myself, and my skin cries for me. That's why I wear long-sleeved shirts. Now the only family I have left is my Dad. And the only friend I have in the world is Alex. Alex is bubbly, outgoing, funny and beautiful. Everything I'm not.

Eventually Tyler lets go of me, pushes me into my locker. I gasp again, grabbing at my stomach. It burns. Alex, whose locker is beside mine, notices me and catches me before I fall. "Oh my... What did that asshole do to you?" she hisses, watching Tyler as he walks away proudly.

I smile weakly as she hugs me and stands me on my feet. "You know, the usual," I half-joke.

"Oh, Sammy," she frowns, "Come on, let's go home." She goes into my locker and took my bag out, wrapping her arm around my waist to support me. I nod and smile willingly as I limp out with her.

"Alright, Alex. I think I can walk home now, okay?" I fake a smile, trying to stand as straight as I could. Alex winces in sympathetic pain for me, but soon runs off to join her other friends.

------

I clutch at my stomach as I walk home, tears nearly drowning me. As I approach my home, the pain started to leave me, and I regain most of my composure. I wipe my tears and fake a smile as I walk inside, expecting one of the maids to be there in the least. Nobody in the house. Or at least, Not in the front hall or in a place I could hear them in.

I sigh and settle in, dropping my bag on the entrance table. Running my hand through my hair, I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge, taking out a handful of blueberries and slipping them into a plastic bag. I stuff my hands in my pocket and munch on a berry as I run upstairs, listening for anybody. I do hear a couple of the maids in father's study, probably dusting the bookshelves.

My house is big, and honestly a little creepy. The outside, though painted a light cream, is overpowering among the other neighborhood houses. Stray dogs generally stay away from the property, and is doesn't help that my father doesn't like plants, and therefore the yard is bare. The inside isn't any better. My father chose to keep the walls a darker wood, even in my room. Paintings of dead relatives in frowns and a chastising look in their eyes cover the walls. Dark red drapes block any natural light from entering. All the rooms are too big as to what the size should be. I don't like to hang out here.

Walking into my room, I flick on the switch and jump into my soft bed. Sighing in relief, I cuddle into a pillow for a minute. I let out a few tears silently as I stare up at my ceiling. Why can't Tyler pick on someone else? Why me?

Suddenly I hear the echo of the front door shutting. Sitting up, I wipe my eyes and walk out of my room into the hall. A deep, familiar voice comes through, but I can't make out what he's saying. Suddenly, Marie and Julia open the study door and briefly look at me before yelling down the staircase in Spanish.

"Oh, hello ladies. Is Sam home?" father approaches the stairs and yells up. I lean over the stairwell and give a small wave to him.

I find my voice while wiping my face from any remaining tears. "Yeah dad, I'm here. Why, what's up?"

Father sighs and then gives me his usual professional smile. "May you come down here for a second honey? I have to talk to you in private for a little bit."

I raise a brow, yet still jump down the stairs, following him like a lost puppy. He leads me to the conference room, a sleek glass table consuming the majority of the space. He sits my down at the nearest chair and sits me down. Taking a moment to look around, I smile a bit. At least this room looks slightly modern. A fig plant in one of the corners, fluffy black chairs, it's cute. I get comfortable and look at my father, still wary of what his news for me is. Is he sending me off to a new school again? God, I hope not.

Father sits at the main chair, the fluffiest one with the built in massage machine. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, sighing. Oh no, I think. Bad news.

"Sam, you know you're getting more mature now, right?" he opens. I nod, furrowing my brows as he continues, "And with your maturity, you need to get married at some point. And I know meeting a guy and falling in love can be-"

I cut him off with "Dad, we already had the talk. In fact, you sent a sex educator to explain it to me, I don't need it," I laugh nervously.

"This isn't that talk. Now listen. You know that my company is staggering a little. But the Lhocks are more experienced, better at handing their money. That's why, Kendall Lhock and I made a deal." With father's every word, my anxiety runs up. The urge to scratch at my skin drives on. I'm scared.

"Wh- What deal?" I whimper, fumbling with my thumbs.

Father groans. "You're getting married, Samantha."

"What?" I realise. "What? WHAT? I'M ONLY SIXTEEN, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE." I stand up, crossing my arms and clenching my teeth.

He stands as well, now standing above me. Yet he speaks calmly, pleading. "This is for us, pumpkin. For the company. And I guarantee you're going to like him." he takes my hands. I pull away.

I stand there, disgusted with him for a while. My throat is dry, and my anger soon turns to fear. "Wait, which family did you say you made the deal with?" I choke, trembling. Did I hear him say the Lhocks? Please say you didn't, daddy.

"Our family is joining with the Lhocks, Sam. You're going to marry Tyler Lhock." He smiles.

He obviously doesn't know about the bruises I come home with every day. I bite my tongue, wiping away the tears. We both stand there, awkwardly. Crying, I look at his sympathetic frown. What utter bull.

I cough the sobs away, wiping my eyes. "In how long?"

He puts his glasses on again. "You two are moving into a new home in a month." he asserted.

My lips trembling, I walk out of the room and begin to run to my front door, opening it and running out. I don't even close the door, and I don't mean to. Crying, I run and run, unaware of the direction I'm going in. I don't know when I stop running, but it must have been a while, because when I open my eyes, I'm standing on a beach. The cool water is so carefree, loose. Unlike me, who for the rest of my life, will be locked into a beaten cage and treated like dirt.

Running onto the dock, tears still falling like water droplets, I stop near the edge. I kick off my shoes and sit on the edge, dipping my toes in. I shiver; cold. Crying, I watch my salty tears fall into the fresh lake water as I cry for what seems like hours.