No Pictures Please

CW: violence?

The lavender scented bath calms me as I stir up the variety of flower petals that are floating in the water. My long dark hair is pulled into a long dark messy bun at the nape of my neck.

Right where Dallas leaves his kisses all the time.

I feel nervous as I reach over the gold lined bathtub to get my silver hand held mirror. I look at it, my eyes fixated on my own face.

Narcissism isn’t a bad thing. It just means you like yourself more than others.

I remember my mother telling me that when I was twelve, after I had spent an hour looking in the mirror, and someone told me that I was narcissistic.

That hurt my little twelve year old self. I cried in my bedroom for the longest time after that. I thought that I was selfish and didn’t deserve to be pretty.

But my mother. She helped me through my lowest points. I thank her for that. At least she was there for me unlike my father.

Never seen him once. And I mean, ever.

My vision refocuses on my eyes, those icy blue pearls that I always get complimented on. I inhale.

“Baby,” I focus on anything but the thought of Dallas’ face. “I think we should get married.”

I have been practicing saying that all day. Well, whenever Dallas isn’t here. 

It seems like a pretty easy thing to ask someone, but with him, it's not.

Deep breaths.

I turn my head to look outside at the beautiful, vast night. Our mansion is right above everyone’s, so I can see the city lights from here.

And if someone really tried hard enough and flew a drone up here, they could see me taking a bath.

I wouldn’t mind. If anything, I would get out of the bath and let them get a better look at me. 

Nothing to hide from anyone. So why hide my flawless body?

“Dinner’s ready Ms. Huxley. Mr. Stoll is waiting for you downstairs.” one of my servants says. 

“Thank you. Dismissed.” I tell her and she walks out of the bathroom.

I put my hand held mirror on the side table and get up out of the bath, dripping on the marble floor.

The servants will clean it up, I think, imagining the one who just told me dinner is ready, on the floor, wiping up the water.

I make my way to the towel rack and grab a blue one, wrapping it around me. 

Do you think Dallas would be mad if you showed up to dinner in just a towel? One of the voices in my head asks.

Depends, another one says. 

Probably not. He likes you enough. A third one comments and I shake the voices out of my head.

The servants have laid out a strapless dress on the bed for me. I quickly put it on and make my way downstairs, with no makeup. I wonder what he’ll say about that.

I pass the guest rooms, the pool lounge area and the living room to get to the dining room.

But oddly, Dallas is not there.

I walk into the chef’s kitchen, weaving around the huge room. 

There’s crying. 

Wait, is Dallas crying?

It sounds too feminine to be his crying. Besides, he doesn’t cry.

“Dallas…” It's a girl.

“C’mon baby, you know I love you.” he says and I am taken aback. I duck behind a shelf stacked with different cooking supplies.

“But what about her?” the girl asks, sniffling.

“Lilly? She means nothing to me!”

I gasp as I realize that he’s talking about me. They both look in my direction as I knock some pans to the floor.

“Oh my god. Lilly…” 

Tears fill my eyes and I run back to the dining room. Dallas follows behind. 

“Lilly!”

“No!” I scream, running into the pool lounge.

When I stop, he edges towards me like I’m a scared deer. “Lilly. I love you. You know that.” he says.

“No you don’t. You love her and you’ve made that very clear.” I say accusingly, backing up toward the pool. “Just wait until I tell your parents. Remember what they did to your brother for cheating on his girlfriend?”

Dallas’ eyes narrow as he looks at me. If I tell them, he won’t be apart of the family anymore. They’ll disown him.

“You wouldn't.”

“Oh, I think I would.”

He charges towards me, pushing me into the pool. The chlorinated liquid fills my nose and mouth, and I can't breathe. 

I surface, sucking in air, but Dallas pulls me back down again.

His hands are around my neck.

Go limp, go limp.

And I do. He pulls me out of the water seconds later, and pushes me up onto the concrete.

The girl is standing there watching him.

“Not a word Cherish,” he says. Cherish doesn't move. 

Dallas is too busy with Cherish now, to notice, that I in fact, am not dead at all.

He’ll never know.

----------

Dallas put me in the pool shed, along with Cherish, and locked it. I listen to her scream as Dallas walks away, to go find another girl.

Hide the evidence, I remember him saying, after that intimate night in Paris. It was sort of a joke then, but now, it's not.

I get up, dusting myself off. The pool shed is pretty nice, it could double as a guest house.

Good thing it has a window.

I see Cherish stare at me as I climb through the window, and over the fence into the neighbor's yard.

There’s only a few things left to do.

1. Find another guy
2. Tell Dallas’ parents about the cheating situation
3. Do whatever the hell I want

As I knock on the neighbor’s door, I let the water drain from my ears. My eyes burn from the chlorine, but that will disappear soon. 

The neighbor opens the door.

“Lilly, are you alright?” he asks. I smile.

“I’m fine.”

“Do you need anything?”

I think on this for a moment. 

“Just a towel and an Uber. Thanks.”

I hope the paparazzi don't find me like this.