Being Told What To Do

Ava was a shadow of her mom as she followed her into the house.

This over-heavy thud of the front door closed behind them, and it was far too noisome in her ears. She weighed her body, as every step was hard. She was still reeling at the hospital, at the thought of the word pregnant and that you will marry him.

Pat didn't ask Ava to sit down.

She placed her handbag on the table in an orderly manner and turned about to look directly at her daughter.

Now, Pat said, calmly but sharply,” Youare going to do as I tell you to.”

Ava swallowed. “Mom”

“No.” Pat raised a finger. “You’ve said enough for today.”

Ava closed her mouth. Her hands were shaking next to her.

Pat passed by the girl and began straightening the cushions, which were already straight, adjusting the things that were not necessary. When she was in a temper, that was her job.

“I called a doctor already,” Pat went on. “A real one. And not a certain clinic you saw today, you see.

Her heart skipped. “You… you called a doctor?”

Sure, Pat finally turned towards her. “You will have appointments regularly. You won’t skip any. I’ll come with you.”

Ava shook her head weakly. “Mom, I can go alone. I—”

You are not going to do this, Pat said. You have demonstrated that you are not good at making decisions independently.

It was more painful than Ava thought the words would be. Her eyes were stinging, and she did not want to cry. Not now. Not in front of her mom.

Pat took the phone Ava had placed on the table. And this will, she said, remain with me, unless I say the contrary.

“What?” Ava gasped. “Mom, please”

You do not need distractions, you do not, said Pat, coldly. No friends stuffing nonsense in your head. No private chats. School and home. That’s it.”

The walls were closing in on Ava. “Riley only comes to my assistance.

“Riley’s a kid,” Pat replied. “And so are you.”

Ava pressed her lips tight. Her chest was glued up with every word she wanted to say.

Pat moved closer saying, “It will not be discussed in other places other than our house. Got it?”

Ava nodded slowly.

“You will have your head down,” Pat said. You will neither shame this family anymore.

Ava flinched.

Pat sighed, like she was fed up. “Go to your room. Rest. You look awful.”

Ava walked away without saying anything. Each of the steps was heavier than the previous one. As she reached her room, she closed the door very softly and leaned against it.

Her breath came out shaky.

This was her life now.

She struggled slowly to the bed and sat down. This time her stomach was twisted not with sickness, but with fear. Fear of the lie she’d told. Even the apprehension of the future that she had already chosen.

As soon as she was out of her shoes, she heard footsteps descending the staircase.

A man's voice.

Her heart skipped painfully.

Marcus.

Ava froze. She remained in silence, listening.

She could hear his footsteps ascending the stairs.

Her chest tightened. Please don’t come here. Please.

But now the foot-steps paused at her door.

There was a gentle knock.

“Ava?” The voice of Marcus was heard at the door. “It’s me.”

Her fingers were gripping the bedsheets. She couldn’t answer. No, she thought, she was certain to weep had she spoken.

The door opened slowly.

Marcus was there, high and well-known, and his jacket was still on. His eyes noticed her immediately, and he changed once he saw her.

“Hey,” he said softly. “What happened?”

Ava repressed herself from staring at him. The attempt almost made her snivel. He looked worried. Tired. Kind.

And everything she did, did not seem to be what it was.

“I am okay," she answered in a rush, but her voice was so tremulous.

Marcus frowned. He went into the room and closed the door. "You don’t look fine."

“I said I am all right,” Ava repeated, a little too fast.

Marcus studied her face. "You’re pale. You’re shaking."

"I'm just tired."

He didn’t believe her. She could tell that.

Marcus stood back and inquired, in a whisper, “Why? Is something happening at the hospital?”

Her heart jumped in her ribs.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It was nothing."

Nothing is likely to get you home with that kind of look.

She turned her back on him and gazed at a window. The daylight was bitter and brisk.

Marcus moved closer. Not too close. No more than enough to make her feel his presence.

You can speak to me, Ava, he said to himself.

The words almost broke her.

She drew her arms into herself. "I really can’t."

Marcus sighed softly. Your mom told me you were not feeling well.

Ava’s stomach dropped. "She… she told you?"

“She had not told me anything in detail,” he said. "But she was… intense."

That was one word for it.

Marcus put himself down so that he looked at her level. "Look at me."

Slowly, Ava turned her head.

His eyes were roving over her face, but stopping at each word, as though he were attempting to read anything written on her features.

“There is something you are trying to cover up,” he said.

Her breath caught.

"No, I’m not."

“Ava, I said- here-here, look at me.” 

She shook her head quickly. "You don’t. Not anymore."

She could not take the words in before they came out.

Marcus stiffened. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Ava said fast. "I didn’t mean…”

She stopped. Talking felt dangerous. All the 

words might cleanse away all the lies and secrets. 

Marcus straightened slowly. "Did I do something wrong?"

This broke her heart a little.

"No," she whispered. "You didn’t."

Why do you look like you are falling apart then?

Ava bit her lips. Tears blurred her vision. She shook them off with obstinacy.

"I just need rest," she said. "That’s all."

Marcus stared at her for some time. His jaw tightened a bit.

"Okay," he said finally. "If that’s what you want."

He looked around the door and stopped.

“Ava,” said he, now in a lower tone. “You should tell someone, in case you are sick, in case something is wrong.”

She did not look and nodded.

He stopped and muttered, “You need not carry all of it yourself.”

The door closed behind him.

Ava exhaled a breath that she had not been aware of holding back.

Her hands flew to her stomach.

I am sorry, she said to herself. "I'm so sorry."

Marcus was sitting on the wall down the stairs, his eyebrows drawn.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

And whatever it was, Ava was unprepared to explain to him.

With gradually increasing anxiety, he straightened.

"Ava…" he murmured to himself.

One question rang in his ears and was becoming heavier with every second.

What are you hiding from me?