Lonely!!

If there was one word Gianna Michaels would use to describe herself, it was that she was lonely. Not the kind of lonely that was appreciated because it brought you peace and tranquil, no not the kind that was accepted with open arms and cherished like your very life depended on it but the kind where the thoughts of it dug so deep into your skin sometimes you wish you didn't even exist. The kind that made you feel so unloved you start to question your very purpose in this world. For most parts of her life, the mundane things normal people did to feel normal on a daily basis had never been part of her forte. Her parents deemed it socially and morally unacceptable because of the kind of family she belonged. Ofcourse, growing up she had never lacked anything in life but she was now starting to question if any of that ever mattered because she would have loved to have been born in a poverty soaked family where a single breath from her wouldn't irritate someone so much so that they would tell her to control her breathing. She was pissed, so pissed at the time she even got slapped by her mom for talking out of turn. It had been the first time she had raised her hand at her but it wasn't that that hurt her, it was the fact that even after all the these years her mother still insisted she had done something wrong. For breathing? Then maybe existing was her major mistake. Her mother was a tandem perfectionist no doubt but she hated it when she tried to perfect her life as if she was so dumb she couldn't even put her own life together. It made her feel so stupid, like a piece of art that had simply been bought to just stay pretty and flawless. Right now sitting by her window in her room she had never felt lonelier. She watched the rain that had started a few minutes ago in awe wondering how it would feel like to go dancing in the rain or just have it beat against her face to pretend as if it was washing away all her worries. She sighed for the umpteenth time in the day, burying her face against the side of her folded knees as she continued to watch the rain, the longing in her eyes so evident. "Young mistress, your parents are back. They request for your presence downstairs," she heard against her door, making her wince. She didn't want to meet her parents, not now and probably not ever. The foreboding that came with them calling her was grating on her nerves, making her wish herself away to anywhere else in that particular moment. Seeing as there was not much of an excuse to come up with she begrudgingly got up from the window side with hesitating movements and dragged herself to the door, praying that whatever her parents wanted to tell her didn't involve anything she was a versed to. The last time they had spoken it had been about her marriage. She was nighteen. Just nighteen. She hadn't even finished college yet and her parents were already pushing her into the arms of a total stranger. She wasn't brave enough but sometimes she wished she was because then she could ask whether she was adopted into the family to be treated the way they sometimes did to her. It was unfair and the searing pain that came with it was even the tipping iceberg. She got out of her room, noticing the maid who had knocked on her door. She looked at her, pursed her lips and decided against it as she trotted down the stairs. She quickly went to stand in front of them, their judging gazes making her feel so small she wanted to disappear. Her father's stern eyes scrutinized her as if by doing so he could tell what exactly went on in that little head of hers and it made the hairs on the back of her head stand in awareness of his unrelenting eyes trained directly on her. Her eyes travelled to her mom and that woman's scrutiny was worser than her husband's and it made her gulp at the intensity. Something told her whatever they were going to tell her wasn't good news and it had her on edge. "Mom, dad you called," she finally addressed them, noting the slight disapproval that marred her mother's face which because she had gotten used to, didn't bother to think of the reason why. "Gianna," her father's voice boomed and she stiffened. "Yes father," the words sounded strained, forced but she managed to maintain her composure, dreading but also wanting to hear what he had to say. "Your marriage has been fixed," he said with little to no emotion as if he could care less even if she died. She staggered a little, not quite processing what she had heard, replaying it over and over in her head to make sure she hadn't imagined it. Out of all the things she had hoped they had called her, this didn't even make top 10. By the time she found her voice she was stammering, stunned by the turn of events."I... I'm... can't I at least finish college fir...No!" She was cut off abruptly making her quiver. She wanted to cry but even the tears failed to fall, refusing to cope with her in spight of how hard she wanted to scream. Controlling her emotions to appear less affected and bothered she straightened her spine and gave a curt nod, the action causing her insides to burn with rage. Yes, father," no arguments, no questions asked. She didn't care anymore. Even if she fought, it was just a losing game; that they had made very clear to her since the time she could talk. Not wanting to find out anything else about the man she was going to marry, she gave a slight bow and all but fled to her room in a disoriented state. They didn't stop her and she was grateful for that because she didn't think she had it in her to listen to anything else. Reaching her room, she threw herself on the bed, the tremors of her cries wrecking through her entire body. She wished there was a way out; if she could escape she would but there wasn't a way out of this, not that she could think of. She cried herself to sleep that night, hoping all of it was all a dream when she woke up the next morning.