Page 2 of Kept

Sighing, I take a seat and begin the arduous task of brushing it out. Starting from the bottom, I work out every single knot, wincing as I move through. Even with a boatload of conditioner, I still manage to find knots. Every. Single. Time.

Deep, emerald-green eyes peer back at me from the mirror, set against skin that stays a golden hue despite never seeing a hint of sun. My hair falls around me like a shield, and not for the first time, I wonder what I’d look like if I was able to cut it.

My fingers drum on the glass of my dressing table before I turn away.

Never gonna happen. Ethan would have a heart attack if I even mentioned it.

But the fluttering in my chest doesn’t stop as I pull open the wardrobe and step back.

“Tell me,” I ask out loud, tapping my lips. “What should I wear today? Green? Pink? A little neon?”

Row upon row of neatly pressed, identical white dresses stare back at me.

One has a slight crumple in the sleeve. Seizing it with a weird sense of satisfaction, I give the rest of the dresses a smug smile and slam the door closed.

Once I’m dressed, I wander into the wider apartment. My bedroom and bathroom is the only enclosed space in thousands of feet, the rest of the apartment completely open plan. Weaving my way between the various figures spread out across the vast space, I pause at one familiar face.

“Good morning, Dante.” Tilting my head, I peer at the sculpture. Dante sits, his wrist balancing loosely on his knee as he stares back at me. A lock of hair curls over his eye.

“Good morning, Zella,” I say in my deepest voice. “Did you sleep well?”

Nodding, I shift on my feet. “I did, thank you.”

He stares back at me. Maybe he’s not up for conversation this morning. Sometimes he talks for hours.

Or… maybe that’s me.

Moving on, I work my way towards the kitchen, offering up greetings to a few of my other companions as I pass by. The coffee is running low, and I stare at the pot despondently as it dribbles the last little drop of liquid gold into my cup.

I hope Ethan remembers to bring some.

Taking my precious last cup, I wrap my fingers around the warmth and move across to my little sitting area. I’ve done my best to make it as cozy as I can, even with the lack of color. My fingers brush against my plant, my one piece of greenery, and I settle back into my leather chair, my eyes already turning towards the window. The little flip of daily excitement turns over in my stomach.

Any minute now.

The first, golden fingers of sunshine appear slowly, casting the white space around me in hues of rose and gold. My breath catches, the edges of my lips tilting up into a grin as I’m bathed in warmth.

The one time of day that my life is filled with color. Vibrant, beautiful color. It surrounds me, and I turn to see the statues I share my life with lit up like they could actually come to life and be the companions I pretend they are.

My chest aches as the sunrise moves on, settling smoothly into the early morning light that fills the apartment. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see it again.

One day.

One day, I’ll see it in person. Not from behind a wall of glass. I’ll feel the wind on my face, flicking through my hair as I sit on grass in a pair of jeans, my fingers sinking into the mud.

That day is not today.

Hours stretch out in front of me, beckoning with emptiness.

Blinking heavily, I rub my fist against the pain in my chest and try to push back the selfish thoughts.

Here, I am cared for.

Here, I amsafe.

Maybe it’s not the most exciting life, but at least I’m warm, and fed.

To feel anything other than grateful feels like a betrayal to everything Ethan has done for me. Everything my parents did for me.

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