Dark Tattoo

*

I can hear the laughter behind the door.
They're boisterous giggling brings me to my knees.
 I can't breath. I can't see.
I can feel the unfamiliar cold seeping into me from the floor.
Making it's way into my body.
It doesn't bother me.
I embrace it. I need the pain.

I'm shivering. But am I cold? Pressing my palms against the tile beneath me, I inhale sharply.

'Keep quiet.'
'Don't let them hear'
'Don't feel'

I can feel the distance. Far greater than any door can cause. Far greater than he'll ever know. or care.

'Stay quiet.'
Always quiet.

I can feel, but barely acknowledge the tears slipping down my cheeks. My bleary gaze is glued ahead on the silver chrome handle of the glass door. My blurry reflection stares back.

They're laughter hits me over and over. Perfectly timed hits, wounding me.

I'm breaking. Splintering.
The remnants of the person I was 6 hours ago is gone.
I'm back to being the odd one.
The black sheep.
The fat one.
The foreigner.
The daughter of the Boss.
and yet, I'm the Other daughter.

The only daughter by blood and yet less than that woman's spawn. The one who's lived in my place all these years.
 
It doesn't get easier. It's harder to hide.

They use my name against me. Using the last name he gave me, forcing his empire on me and yet I have nothing.
Nothing but a name.

The ugly one. In comparison.
The Other one.
That's all they see. That's all they make me believe.

I wrap my arms around my knees. My heart aching, my vision is blurry and all I hear is their laughter. Without me.

Without me.

I cover my mouth, drowning the sobs wrecking me. I can't help myself. Their countless stares burned into my brain, torment me. I'm the other one.

I hear his voice. The sweet voice I crave to hear once a year. So close. So warm and yet, he doesn't notice I'm gone.

Doesn't see me.

Don't see me in the cold. Back against the bathroom door. Breaking. Falling apart. Trying to be strong. He doesn't see how being here kills me.
He makes me into this.....

Makes me into something ugly.
Jealous. Bitter. Angry. Furious.
Broken.

I need a drink- No.
I need to feel.
I want to be numb...
To forget-
To leave-
To erase the name he gave me.
The only thing he's given me.

I've seen it in his eyes. He sees me breaking and turns away. Denial. Disgusting. Coward.

I want to hurt. To feel something on my skin, forget the fracturing of my heart.
I don't want to feel like this.
Like a child, lost with a father who couldn't care less.
His denial hurts.
And I know I'm chasing after ghosts, after someone who won't ever be mine.

The picture perfect daughter doesn't cry. Doesn't shout. Doesn't cause a scene. Not a hair out of place. Composure. Cool. The perfect daughter, smiles. Fits in. The daughter he created, isn't weak.

I remind myself I'm strong. I was born of his blood, they weren't. 'Still the other one.' Those women are the intruders but he, he is the one who really tears me down. He's made me into his Other Daughter.

The blood coursing through my veins makes me his picture perfect daughter, who I am nothing like but must strive to be, slowly she emerges.

'We survive. We lie. We deceive. We win.'

His little girl is strong. Doesn't give up. Is skinny and smart. She is everything I'm not, but then I've trained for the position my whole life. With blood. With tears. So many tears. With sweat and determination.

I brush off the tears. Force the heaving to stop. I still tremble. 'Not good.' One last moment of freedom and I set the shackles back on and stand. I reach for the sink. Watching the reflection of my brown eyes. I watch as the change comes over me. The Other one is almost back in place.

I harden. I shut down the ugly little girl breaking and stuff her into a box. She's been out too long. I let out a breath. I've been away far longer than I should be. Not that they'll notice. Not that they'll care.

They're laughter fills the silence.

'Play it off.' 'Don't show them weakness' 'Don't feel.'

I straighten.

For now, his name binds me here, shackles me under his control. I want to scream but I can't. I wan't to break free of him, Of this life and yet my time is over. I'll never have his heart. He'll never know me the way I want. He'll never care enough. He won't ever see.

'That's enough.You've felt enough today.'

I pat my cheeks back to life. Practice my smile. 'Good enough.'
I see the real me screaming inside, warring against the cage I've placed her in. I brush off my curls and step out into my reality. I'm the boss's daughter after all. My smile is cold and doesn't quiet reach my eyes. But they'll never know how truly broken I am. I won't ever give them that satisfaction...I smile. My mask a tight fit. They'll never know,

How twisted and dark....
The real me sits, Watching. Waiting. Plotting.

Chaos.

Someday. I might break free.

And God help them all.

*