Hidden Secrets

I was lying peacefully on my bed, my bright blue eyes shut close. My golden locks were neatly tucked into a bun. I was draped in a pale purple nightgown, wondering if sleep would be kind enough to take me back into its arms. I started to see the glimpses of the age-old horror of mine. The horror called my past. There was no way to fight it now...

There it was. 15 years later, the same trees, same seats, same people...everything the same other than one face. I cannot recognise that face, even though 15 years have passed. I was praying for the visions to stop. But they didn't...they never do!

The beauty of the roads was marvellous at sunset. There was an orange sunset in front of my eyes. I was sitting in my baby seat, my older brother Joshy was on my left and a mystery guy on my left...Dad sat in the front, driving the car. He was handsome back then, bright blue eyes and ruffly brown hair. A typical French guy, he was. The woman beside him was a stranger to me as well but there was something odd about her. She and I looked exactly alike. Except for her eyes. Her eyes were as green as bright emeralds.

We were all peacefully driving down the road. Dad and the woman were singing along to the radio in French. I caught onto a word I never did before. Dad called the woman "Femme". I was too busy evaluating this new detail in my dream that I almost forgot how the events would take a turn. Before I could force myself to wake up, or even ask dad to turn to a side of the road, a huge truck came and hit our car from the side. Our car flew into the air and fell with a loud crash. Everything goes dark...

I wake up screaming, crying and yelling for my dad. It was snowing out but I was still sweating. "Dad! Dad..." I called out. I gathered my nightgown in my hands and walked to his room.

I knocked on his door, expecting him to be asleep. He was an older man who needed his daily doses of sleep or else he goes nuts. "Dad..." I stuttered in my weak voice. My voice, which was usually dominant and strong was stuttering now. This was a weakness of my nightmares and awful my past. I took a deep breath and knocked again, a little louder this time. The echo of the knock was audible in our massive house, or as we called it, the Petit Mansion.

My dad's hoarse voice yelled, "Lillian! Qu’est-ce que je t’ai dit à propos de me laisser dormir!"

[what did I tell you about letting me sleep!]

I fell on my knees and sobbed endlessly. I had expected this but it still feels bad that he yelled at me. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Lève-toi." I looked at his bright and sparkly blue eyes. He was blind in one eye due to the accident, but other than that he looked perfectly normal. "Regarde-moi, Lily, ça va aller, ça ira. Je promets."

[Get up.] [Look at me, Lily, its gonna be alright, it will be fine. I promise.]

"Promesse?"

[promise?]

"Promise." He hugged me tightly. "Do you want to talk about it, Lily?"

"Yes-yes..."

"Come inside."

He took my hand and pulled me inside his room. "Lillian, sweetie, what did you dream about?"

"Femme." I uttered.

"What? Come again?"

"Remember the blonde in my dream who looks like me? You called her femme."

There was visible tension on his face, but he was still denying any fact of the woman being his wife! "She-she is just a delusion-delusion in your dream-dream, Lillian. She-she cant be real-real."

I stood up and looked at him, staring up in his eyes. He quickly turned away. I grabbed his hand with all my strength and yelled, "Regarde-moi mon père!"

[Look at me father]

"Lower your voice-"

"I will when you answer me first."

"I do not need to-"

"NOW!"

"That's it! How much do you think I can bare, Lillian Victoria Petit-Smith, huh? Go to your room and do not show me your face till next morning!"

"FINE."

I pushed his door open and ran swiftly through the dark hallways. The sound of my footsteps resounded on the cold hardwood flooring. "Lillian go for modelling! Lillian don't eat that! Lillian don't talk to him! Lillian stop disturbing me! Lillian do this! Lillian do that! How about you do me a favour dad, how about you shut up and let me live my life!" I talked to myself on my way back.

"Lily, I can still hear you." Dad stated from his room.

"DO I CARE?" I turned around and yelled loud enough for my voice to be echoed around the four walls as well.

I knew it was partially my fault he was mad, but so was i. He had made false claims and i tend to believe him. He told me many lies, kept many things from me since i was 2. I should have gotten over it but I needed answers too.

"Your mom left us, Lily. She took your brother and went away. She left you all alone with me..."

Those words echoes in my mind again. I tried to push it away. Nothing was working.

I stepped into my room and slammed my door shut. I broke down just behind the door, hugging my knees tight. "Papa, j’aimerais que tu connaisses mes problèmes. J’aimerais juste que ma seule famille ne me traite pas comme des ordures..."

[oh, dad, I wish you knew my problems. I just wish that my only family left didn't treat me like garbage...]

I decided to pull myself together. Crying wont get me anywhere in this world. I push myself to stand up from the filthy floor and walked over to the window. I opened the windows and sat there, looking at the horizon and the nature's true beauty, the sun rise. I could feel my eyelids get heavy on me. I forced them shut and hoped for peace.

I was halfway drowsing into my sweet slumber when my door slightly opened, jerking me out of the hands of the merry and pleasant dreams. Natasha, dad's assistant stood there with a calm smile on her face.

“Happy new year, Natasha.” I stated, not making eye contact with her.

“Happy new year, Miss Smith.” She replied in her slight Russian accent, still bearing a smile.

I got off the window and finally faced her, questioning “How may I serve your presence?”

She flipped through her notes and pulled out a schedule. I sighed and took it from her, looking through it. I let out a cry, claiming, “What the hell? Three shoots today, then piano and Spanish learning? I am human too and I hope my dad will acknowledge that.”

She had pity in her dark eyes. She said, “I know, Miss Smith, but it’s not in my hands. Mister Petit asked me to bring this to you…”

I pointed at the desk and said “Just leave it there.”

“I wish you could go out and celebrate New Years like a normal teen.”

“Sadly I’m not a normal teen now am I?”

“I deeply regret mentioning this, Miss Smith. I hope you have a wonderful time ahead.”

“See ya…” I whispered. She was the closest thing to a mother I ever had.

I agreed that I was quite unfortunate to be stuck at home when every other teen was out celebrating. I’m just a privileged girl with her life going perfect like a princess because I have money.

I take a look at my schedule. “New year new me…” I whispered to myself, reading the hectic schedule left for me.

There was a handwritten note attached to it. I pulled it from the schedule and opened it. All it ever had was my name written on it. It wasn’t dad’s handwriting. I wonder who could have attached it.

I placed the note in my drawer and went back to my window. I could deal with it later when I’m rather calm.

I rested my head on the window frame as I stared at the marvels of nature in front of my eyes. I could end this by taking a leap off this window. Just letting the cool air ruffle through my golden curls, the wind would swift through my dress and the gravity would pull me closer to the earth.

I could get the sweet release from my father’s clasp. Instead of jumping off I choose a method that would kill me surely, but not instantly.

I shuffled through my drawer, desperately searching for my box of cigarettes. I finally found it and pulled one out. I was about to place it between my lips when I heard a knock on my door.

“Who is it?” I questioned, unbothered to put the cigarette away.

The door slightly opened to reveal my dad all dressed up in a suit. I hid the cigarette behind my back and asked, “I thought you didn’t want to see my face till tomorrow morning.”

He looked at me with sorrow in his eyes and guilt on his face. “Get dressed. I’ll tell you about the woman...”