Good For Gone

Full Lips

I spent a few days in my bathroom curled over the toilette. My stomach refused to untangle, and I wasn't sure if it was sickness or fear.

Every time I heard the door open I looked up, hoping to see Randall so I could demand my meds back. But it was only ever silent guards there to rub creme on my face, so the swelling wouldn't be as noticeable.

The next couple of months I spent mostly confined to the house, only being allowed to leave on certain pre approved appointments.

Mostly it was to have something done to my hair, skin or nails to make me more presentable. I spent enough time at the Lux Salon that I became a recognized face amongst the employees.

My usual girl Sara was always waiting for me with a smile. Partially because of how much we'd "bonded", and partially because of the hefty tip she was given to not mention how many of my bruises she had to put creme on.

I wanted to hate her for it, I really did, but I couldn't bring myself to. At least someone was getting something good out of the whole situation.

But I'd developed a level of comfort with her many tattoos, dyed black hair, and copious amounts of cleavage that I'd grown used to staring deeply into as she worked on my nails. In some ways, her peppy voice just made me feel like a normal girl getting her nails done.

Even if it wasn't true. I just kept telling myself it was better than being at the house.

When I was in public where the world functioned normally around me I felt average and unimportant, which was refreshing compared to the constant scrutiny I was under behind closed doors.

But the hardest part was having to keep up appearances. To have to laugh with my sister as she accompanied me to the salon, where my nails were painted a color I didn't choose and my hair got dyed a shade I didn't like. Or when I had to hold Randalls hand in front of my parents and insist on how in love we were. It all felt like acid burning the back of my throat.

A month before the wedding I got lip fillers, which were supposedly for my birthday, but they weren't my idea.

"They need a bit of improving." He'd said, holding me by the chin and examining my face closely.

My sister went with me to the appointment, thoroughly entertained by my new lavish lifestyle. She sat in a chair next to me while the needle was stuck in my lips over and over until they were plump and swollen, taking pictures and posting them online, insisting on how lucky I was.

When she said she wanted them to Randall laughed and said he would get them for her when she turned 18, which warranted a glare from me. But he only smiled in return. This was fun for him.

Unsurprisingly, my parents had been less than pleased with my sudden decision to drop out of school.

Actually, it could be more appropriately categorized as disbelief. Randomly marrying an old man they'd never heard of before was apparently very out of character for me. Go figure.

I could still remember the look on my dad's face as he sat uncomfortably on Randall's white couch. Like he wasn't even looking at me anymore like I was a different person in his eyes. Which made my heart sink.

I wished I could tell him that I was trapped. I wished I could tell anybody, to get this giant secret outside of myself for one minute. But there was no one I could really talk to.

The only good times were when my family would come to visit. Being able to sit next to my mom and Cameron as they got all the free pampering their hearts could desire made it worth it in some way.