Anaya

“Anaya!!!” Her name echoed through the house as her dad pounded up the stairs, her 4 brothers mirroring him. She had locked herself in her room not to hide from her father but to avoid the damning fate that awaited her outside those doors.

“Anaya,” her father’s voice boomed once more, then the pounding on her door came. It shook violently as her father continued to bang repetitively. “Anaya, if I call your name one more time, there will be hell to pay.”

Oh, she already knew she was dead, from the moment she dashed through the door to her room and locked it? Or how about how she let her father yell out her name multiple times. She knew she had incurred his wrath, but incuring his wrath was better than what he wanted her to do. A thousand times better.

She was chewing on her already clipped nails when the door tore off its hinges, and her father barged in, followed by her brothers, “What do you think you are doing, girl?” his hand came down on her face, hard. With her cheeks buzzing red with pain and her watering eyes, she defiantly looked up at him.

“I see I have been too lenient with you in this house, which is why you still have the guts to look me in the eyes.”

“Father, I do not wish to marry him,” she managed to say

“Do you think I care? You do not have a say in whom you shall marry, Anaya. My house, my rules, and when I say you will get married, you will fucking get married, even if I have to drag your bloody beaten ass to that altar.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to get married, just not to him, anyone else but him. Father, please, I’m begging you,” she clasped her hands together in order to plead with him.

“And you will keep on begging Anaya, because you will marry him.”

“Father, please, he has a reputation of being a monster-”

“Enough! All mafioso have a reputation of being monsters; he’s just one of the many who are checked off the marriage list.

“Father, please-” but before she could speak, he held her face with his hands, squeezing tightly, “listen to me, girl, you can beg for all of eternity, cry for the rest of your life, and I wouldn’t give a fuck, because you will marry him and there’s no way around it” he jerked her face free “now go downstairs for your fitting, the tailor’s arrived.” he adjusted his suit and walked out the room.

The tears rolled silently down her face. “I don’t see why you’re crying.” Her older brother’s rough voice filled the room. You get all the benefits with this; you’ll be protected, respected, revered. Now stop acting like a baby and go downstairs,” he turned to leave, “and if I were you, I’d lose those balls you grew if not father’s gonna cut it off for you, and if not him, you know who’s gonna do it.” Her brothers walked out and shut the door behind them, leaving her in her cold room, with her damp tears collapsing in on themselves and her loud sobs that she kept to herself.

🌹

The tailors measured dutifully, whispering to themselves. They’d secretly give her pitying looks as if knowing the fate before her, but she caught those looks. If they thought they were sly, then she was James Bond. But it wasn't just them, though, all the maids, the guards, so-called henchmen, they all gave her those pitying looks.

“Anaya,” She jerked furiously and accidentally knocked the tailor down,

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said to the tailor, then turned around to see her mother standing behind her.

“I was calling you from the stairs, didn’t you hear me?”

“No, I didn’t, I’m sorry.” She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even know when her mother came down

“questo è abbastanza,” her mother said to the tailor, and she walked out with a bow.

“Tutto bene, tesoro?” her mother asked, carressing her cheeks. She nodded

She chewed on her bottom lip, wondering whether or not she could ask her mother for such a thing.