I quickly shake my head, which he raises an eye brow to but doesn't question.
He straightens up, never removing his gaze from me before stepping closer, forcing me to step back. He takes another and again, I step away. Seth keeps approaching me, hi...
"Sometimes we get through adversity only by imagining what the world might be like if our dreams should ever come true." Arthur Golden ― Memoirs of a Geisha
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
*TRIGGER WARNING* Contains some scenes of Violance*
Sitting on my bed, some sheets pinned up around my bedposts to make a temporary cocoon of safety around me, and my fluffy lilac blanket wrapped around me for extra warmth, I stare at the cover of my book.
I've read it a couple dozen times, but it still always manages to attract me back into its pages, hooked onto the words, a form of escape, as is with most books.
'Memoirs of a Geisha' however was different to most of my other favourites which are things like Harry potter, Hunger Games, Maze Runner, The Secret Garden etc.
I realise that I do entirely have too many favourite books, but I don't mind, each book a new realm, a new universe to explore and loose myself from reality for a short while.
Maybe it was the cover of the book, this edition which was a startlingly bright white painted face, just the bottom half, from below the nose, and the bright red lips to contrast the white paint. Maybe its the symbolisms within the book, how life and events flow like water, and how nothing can deter it from its ultimate goal wither its destructive like a tsunami, or gentle and soothing like a stream. Nothing can ultimately stand in its way. Or maybe its just the story in general, a young girl being sold into a geisha house,separated from her sister and father after the tragic death of her ill mother, and the journey she takes through training, through work and war, towards an ultimate goal that she made as a child. I'm not sure though.
Sighing, I flip open to the starting pages and prepare to immerse my self in a world of despair and bright colours that is the world that Arthur Golden put into words on pieces of paper. How a few words can change everything, manipulate your life, will never cease to amaze yet terrify me.
As I'm so immersed into the life of 'Chiyo' and how she's desperately trying to find the whereabouts of her sister, I fail to hear the front door slamming shut down the stairs. I fail to register the tell tail creak of the 6th step.
It's not until my own bedroom door is slammed open that I realise that my safe haven of the moment may not be as safe as I'd like, depending on whose just stomped into my room.
I quickly tuck my book down the side, not wanting it to be damaged, and watch the shadow beyond my sheets, unmoving, and holding my breath.
After a moment, there's a low grunt and the sheets torn down, revealing my step dad glaring down at me on the bed.
Now my step dad, I suppose he would be considered attractive, with a head of think dark blonde hair that brushes at his ears, a tall broad frame, an indicator that he works out, and icy blue eyes that had the ability to pin you to the ground, see right through you.
