Live For It

|15|

Zhara didn't come out of her room the next day.

Or the next.

She felt bad because she let down Adelaide, but then she realized being around kids in her state wasn't good for anyone.

Flynn had checked on her a few times to make sure she hadn't actually killed herself, and Inan came in once on the second morning to see if her wound was fine. He saw the marks on her neck. He had gotten the silent treatment from Zion after he asked him about it.

Adelaide was more than confused when she was told to stay away from Zhara's door, remembering just two days ago she had been all excited and peppy to come and meet her kids, and something about that made her wonder what these men had done to her that day. She heard her husband talking to Flynn on the couch, about Adelaide's brother trying to kill Zhara. It wasn't too much of a surprise, but it did anger something inside her.

On the third day of hiding away, Flynn came and took Zhara's weapons, sending her deeper into her realization that something was really wrong with her. They were all right. She was just a weapon. A weapon of no use anymore, and she would fall to her father's expectations, not prove him differently, watch the outcome he hoped for happening beneath her own very skin.

She was useless, and she couldn't stop repeating his words inside her head. No, not the things he said to her that night, but the continuous taunting of Zion Armani when he had taken her.

A weapon needs her weapons.

A weapon that needs to be thrown away.

Just a tool.

She hadn't even cried yet, so she knew this was only the start of her crashing, and she was more than worried. Not for herself, but for everyone in this house. When she finally snapped, she hoped everyone was gone when she did.

On the afternoon of the third day, about six hours after Flynn had taken her weapons, she decided to get up.

Zhara walked into her bathroom, but this time, she welcomed her reflection, she stared at it for a long time, actually. She stared herself down until the haunting words were gone, and now it was just a song she had been humming the tune of last week that was replaying in her head.

She saw her mother in her reflection. She saw her father in her reflection. She saw her brothers in her reflection, even if it was only just in one eye.

She traced her hand over the bruises on her neck, and then the healing one on her face. She looked the same, honestly. Just a little more dead inside.

She smiled at herself, seeing as she was looking more like her mother every day. Her stomach grumbled, and she remembered she hadn't eaten in a long time.

She heard her mother's voice in her ears as she gained the energy to take a shower, and that was all she needed to pull herself out of her short-term hell. She used the special sugar scrub to make herself smell good, and even put on a bit of makeup afterward.

Zhara pulled on some sweatpants and a tank top, feeling as though this was the best she was going for at the moment. She brushed out her wavy hair until it fell back to her waist nicely, then rolled her shoulders repeatedly as she approached the door.

Swinging that bitch open, she walked out into the hallway with a smile on her face and made her way towards the kitchen. She entered the quiet area, feeling the cool afternoon breeze through the opened dining room doors.

She opened the fridge, hoping they had something she could eat quickly and then make her next stop around this place.

Why was it so quiet? Did they know she was walking about and didn't want to risk getting shot? Or were they ignoring her? She shrugged to herself, she honestly didn't care.