"At least the only thing you can do is smile," said Susan Barry, my stepmother, stepping into the room where I was getting ready for my wedding.
They were marrying me off to a cruel man, a stranger whose wealth they coveted. I was nothing but bait. My father had never cared about me, not since I was a child. He had always treated me like a servant, calling me a monster, just like my mother had, though I had never known her. They said she died when I was born, but everyone whispered that my father had hated her with a venomous passion.
"I don't want to get married, ma'am, please," I pleaded again, my voice trembling. But she acted as if she hadn't heard me. "Hurry up," she said, "the groom is already waiting." And with a slam of the door, she left, leaving me alone with the weight of my fate.
The minutes dragged like hours as I struggled to finish dressing. Every stitch of the gown felt like a chain, binding me to a future I did not choose. My hands shook as I tried to smooth the fabric, but nothing looked right. I felt small, trapped, and utterly alone.
Through the window, the sunlight seemed unusually harsh, mocking me, reminding me of the life I was losing. I wanted to run, to disappear, but there was no escape not from the house, not from the people who claimed to be my family.
A knock at the door startled me. "Time to go," my stepmother's cold voice called from the hallway.
I took a shaky breath and forced myself to walk, each step heavier than the last. Outside, the carriage awaited, its black lacquer gleaming like a coffin. The driver's eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, pity hidden behind professional detachment. I climbed in, gripping the edge of the seat, trying not to imagine the man waiting for me my groom, my captor in a life that had already begun to feel like a nightmare.
"Smile," my stepmother snapped, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "Walk properly. Act like this is a blessing."
"I… I can't," I whispered, trembling. "Please… I don't want this."
Her eyes narrowed. "Don't make me repeat myself," she said, sharp as glass.
Then my father stepped forward, his expression cold and unyielding. His hand gripped my shoulder, a weight I could not shake off. "This is the only way you can repay us," he said, his voice low but firm. "For everything we've done for you. Everything we've given you. You owe this to us, Silver . Do not forget that."
The words hit me like a fist. I swallowed hard, my throat tight with fear and disbelief. Repay them? I had spent my whole life obeying, cleaning, serving, pretending to be small enough to disappear, and now this was my debt? My entire being rebelled, yet I felt trapped under his gaze, under the weight of their expectations.
I was guided out of the carriage. My hands shook as I climbed out, my fingers clutching the edge of my dress. The church was cold and dim, the air heavy with incense that made me want to gag. My heart hammered in my chest as I stepped forward, each movement feeling as though I were walking on shards of glass. People whispered behind me, their eyes judging, speculating, indifferent to the fear clutching at my throat.
And then he appeared. My groom. The man I had never met, whose face I already hated for the life he had been handed without asking. He looked… normal enough, almost pleasant, and that made the rage inside me burn brighter. How dare he inherit my life as if it were a gift?
I froze when my stepmother pushed me forward, whispering a harsh, "Smile. Act happy." I shook my head, my voice barely audible. "I—I don't want this. Please. I can't…"
Her eyes flicked over me with irritation, then to the crowd. "Do not make a scene," she hissed. "This is your duty."
My legs felt like lead, but something inside me snapped. I looked him in the eye, seeing only the ignorance of privilege, and the fear that had been my constant companion boiled into a hot, fiery defiance. "No," I said, louder this time, and the room stilled. "I will not marry you. I will not be your possession."
Whispers erupted around me. My stepmother gasped. My father's face twisted with anger, and the man in front of me smirked, thinking it was a flirtation, a game. He reached for me. "Don't speak to me like that, girl—"
I was terrified, that was enough to calm me down and tears streamed down my eyes. The priest murmured words I barely heard. I tried to focus, tried to make my body move like they wanted, but my legs felt heavy, uncooperative. When it came time to exchange vows, my lips froze. I could barely whisper, "I… I do," and the sound felt like a lie echoing in a cavern.
The ceremony ended in a blur. Hands were laid on mine, my dress rustled, flowers were pressed into my arms. They smiled and nodded, congratulating me, but I only wanted to disappear. The life I had known or rather, the life I had suffered slipped away with every step toward him.
Finally, the moment came. My father's hand was on my shoulder, firm and unyielding. "Go," he said, and the word struck me harder than any blow. "This is your duty."
The man I was now married to, Lucas looked at me with a polite, almost patronizing smile, but l knew my nightmare was about to began.
The door closed, and the carriage began to move. My head pressed against the cool glass, I tried to calm my racing heart. The wind whispered through the cracks, carrying with it the scent of the woods and something else… something wild, stirring deep within me.
Fear coiled in my stomach, but beneath it, an unfamiliar, electric pulse coursed through my veins. It was as if the injustice, the pain, and the helplessness had awakened something ancient and untamed. I didn't understand it yet, but I knew it was part of me, and it was strong.
I stared out the window, watching the world I had known slip away, feeling both trapped and… strangely alive.