Freedom After The Beginning

Athena's pov

A cycle of questions, ample reminders.

Display of pain, erase it with a smile before the seeker of fear finds it.

The day remained indifferent, the hour lingered idle, passing minute cut down the capability, and the seconds? Felt like bittersweet layers of torture.

Why must I smile? For my sanity.

Why must I abide? To keep myself safe

Ask. Remember. Erase. Smile.

Void filled the edges of my heart as this evening seemed to be still. Much like every other day, the grueling labor was a cherry on top of the ill-treatment.

My wary frame of mind remained tiresome and disquieted. Communicating with myself was akin to playing the ace-like “Tom and Jerry” or a chess match with myself at a beginner level. Over the years, my mind must've lost the capacity to even think straight.

Eyes flickered with days worth of sleepless nights. My nightmares were vivid, as if re-living the moment, making me barf often in the middle of the night. The anxiety crept substantially, making me stay awake was now perceptible on my complexion.

Face once adorned with lively shades and emotions, now appeared lifeless and jaded due to the effects of time. My eyes, which used to be bright and doe-like, are now burdened by the weight of blackish-purple eye bags. The dehydration had left my lips chapped and swollen, further volunteering to my overall appearance.

Despite feeling utterly drowsy, I had to propel my body, mainly my feet, to the kitchen to wash the dishes, a task that seemingly would go on in perpetuity, uniform to a never-ending pile.

It seemed like an eternity had passed, though merely twenty minutes had flown past.

Our Thanksgiving dinner guests had left earlier this morning, the moment they left the reality hit, and the darkness had covered everything all over again. The expectations people had for us, we tried to fit in accordingly. We put on our best masks, pretending to be a happy, ordinary, loving family to mask our underlying darkness that was impossible to shake off. Yesterday was horrible. We had to pretend like our aunt and uncle gave us everything. They did not even let us help them while they were taking care of the guests, just to show how they spoil us often.

As I scrubbed the dishes, I tried to reassure and encourage myself. Few dishes and it’s over.

I kept telling myself every passing time. But my skin felt like it had started burning as if the scorching summer heat had never left. It was winter, but the anxiety had enveloped the chilly breeze, turning the cool air into a hot gust of wind, searing my skin even though I was wearing a light white top.

I stood there, struggling to keep my eyes open and my balance intact, I felt my eyelids drooping once again. Anxiety crept in as I realized I might hit my head on the cold, hard steel tap in front of me. But just as I was about to stumble, my brother Lewis came to my rescue.

He quickly put his hand out in front of my forehead, preventing me from falling. I jolted awake, feeling embarrassed and sheepish. I tried to pass off my drowsiness as a loss of balance, hoping he wouldn't realize the truth.

However, Lewis was not easily fooled. He looked at me skeptically, his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed. "Do you think I'll buy this act?" he asked, seeing right through my façade.

I smiled widely and nodded, trying to seem convincing, but he just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

The moment I finished my meal, my attention turned to the pile of dishes beside the sink. Though it was not a lot, there were few utensils and dishes to be washed before Katherine came home.

Out of blue, Lewis gave me a stern warning, "I better not catch you sleeping. Got it? The moment I catch you, you better go to bed then"

I simply ignored his remark and proceeded to focus on my task at hand. He knew how particular I was about my chores, and I won't be letting that arse do it.

As I was scrubbing away, I heard a loud, exasperated groan from Lewis, which caused me to turn around to see what was wrong.

He looked drained and exhausted, his fatigue etched all over his face. He groaned, running his hand through his messy hair, clearly unable to hide his weariness. As I watched him mop the floor with patience and diligence, I couldn't help but feel guilty for not doing more to prevent this. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down before speaking up.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

But before I could utter a word, he spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper "Athena, I'm exhausted. Burned out," It was clear that he had been pushing himself to the limit by juggling two jobs, and his exhaustion was noticeable.

I nodded sympathetically, knowing all too well how it felt to be overworked and overwhelmed. "Lou, I warned you not to overdo it," I said gently, hoping to soothe him.

He simply lowered his eyes and nodded, his lips pressed tightly together, indicating how obvious it was that he was drained. I could not help him as I was busy completing my work. The feeling of dread filled my heart, but I managed to wash the dishes quickly, to help.

With a wide smile on my face, I walked towards my brother and swiftly took the mop out of his hand. However, he was having none of it. He snatched the mop away from my grasp and shot me a stern look that did not made me quiver but left me feeling annoyed.

"You've already done enough. You need to take care of your health, keep that man asleep, and our aunt could arrive any minute now," he insisted, his voice firm and unwavering.

I tried to push my tongue to form words without stuttering, but I couldn't help the slight tremble in my voice as I muttered, "I'm sorry, but I really can't let you do this." I gestured for him to give me the mop, but he just looked at me blankly, not saying a word.

As frustration began to build inside me, I demanded, "Seriously, give it to me." But he just playfully hit my forehead and went back to mopping, as if I wasn't even there. It was like trying to reason with a brick wall.

He was the only person who knew, heard, and understood me when I needed someone by my side. However, the moment he came to England, everything changed for the better. He was the only true family I had left, and he protected me from our abusive aunt and uncle, time and time again. He proved to me each time that I could rely on him no matter what.

But losing my parents, and then my grandma tore me apart. Piece by Piece. I didn’t think I would ever feel happy.

I felt numb mentally.

“Every cloud has a silver lining,” my mother said before she left me alone in this dreadful world.

Unfortunately, who would’ve told her? It wasn’t just a silver lining. I never found a happy ending. It was either her and my dad abandoning me or me getting bullied by the neighbourhood kids.

I had no choice but to come to this miserable place. It made my heart sink deep beneath as if a pit had been dug inside me day by day, leaving me with a sense of emotional detachment.

I was hopeless.

I was lost.

I thought the never-ending loop of torture had halted when I came here to my aunt and uncle. But I was wrong. I had a rough patch with my parents, and my older brother. I had two brothers, but Lewis was the one who was like a parent to me growing up. Nevertheless, as the favorite person of bad luck. I just wished for a peaceful life away from all these frustrations.

I sat lost in my thoughts, I felt a sudden tap on my shoulder, causing me to jump in surprise. I turned around to find a familiar face looking at me with concern. I knew he could sense that I wasn't in a state to talk about what was bothering me, so he simply gave me a warm smile and said, "Listen, I've brought some delicious food for you. Why don't you eat? And if you need anything else, just let me know."

I felt a sense of relief wash over me at his words, grateful for the one person who remained by my side through thick and thin. He continued, "I know things aren't great here, and if I had known about the situation earlier, I would have taken you from this wretched place. I've been saving up money for that very purpose. Once I have enough, we'll all leave this place behind and start a new life somewhere else. But for now, let me finish mopping the floor here."

With a grateful smile on my face, I looked at him, feeling a sense of comfort in his reassuring words. Knowing that I wasn't alone in this struggle and that there was someone out there who cared for me made my heart feel lighter.

I then retrieved a large box of food. It was filled with an array of mouth-watering dishes - fresh, crispy vegetables, fluffy white rice, succulent boiled chicken, creamy mashed potato, and flavorful pasta. As I took my first bite, my face lit up with pure joy.

After finishing, I quickly cleared the table with a clean cloth, making sure not to leave any crumbs behind. I knew I couldn't dispose of the boxes in the house, or it might cause trouble, so I carefully picked them up and placed them in a sturdy garbage bag.

Lewis interrupted me as I was about to leave. "I'll take it from here, Athy. It's already past seven, and it will be dangerous for you," he said, snatching the bag from my hand and rushing outside.

I was about to protest again, but he had already closed the door behind him. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of annoyance at his overprotectiveness. One day, I swear to God, I will punch this prick for being so controlling.

We were terrified of the woman who would soon arrive. She was a striking figure with blonde waist-length hair and emerald, green eyes that she could fool heaven itself with her cover-up modesty.

As the day came to an end, I sat down to write in my diary. It was not in good shape but still put to good use. I had taped it from behind, preventing it from falling apart. It was the only gift from my mum, and it reminded me of her. I missed her terribly. She never had a say in the family, as it was an arranged marriage with my dad. She was a trophy wife, always an outcast during family events. I know it must have broken her heart too, just like it did mine.

Today I felt like writing a poem to express my emotions on paper-

But suddenly a deep, growling voice echoed through the house. "Athena! Close that doltish book and bring me a cup of tea, you lousy rat; you won't be getting any food today,"

Paden had gotten up and started barking orders. It was no surprise, given his nickname "Pistachio," which was more fitting for his immature and childish behavior.

It was hard to understand what Katherine saw in him; he was a freeloader who had been living off her ever since he set his foot in the house. He would squander her money on gambling, cigars, and liquor, and always seemed to have a terrible attitude and was hideous, both inside and out.

You would think people who go through misery, will not let others go through it because they know what it is like to feel a certain way, but Katherine was the total opposite. Making it hard to feel bad for her when she was a horrible person, herself.