Page 141 of Marks of Rebellion

He gets out, and as soon as I get home, I do as instructed. I put on lingerie and a robe over it, then go out to the balcony.

It's dark. I can't see anything, but I stare off into the emptiness and try to breathe, wondering how I'm going to stop him.

I could kill him.

I go inside and once again look for something, but just like before, there is nothing.

The tears of grief don't stop all night. There's no getting out of it. When Carlos comes, I know what he will make me do.

All night, I pace. When morning comes, I still haven't slept, but new red hibiscuses hang from the trees.

You're here. But I've already betrayed you and am going to have to do even more.

And I wait and wait, but Carlos never comes.

Esther brings breakfast to the room and startles me.

"What time is it?"

"Time for you to get ready."

"Where is Carlos?"

"He just came home and is downstairs on the phone. He went directly to his office and said no one is to bother him. Something major must be going on."

I glance out the glass at a bouquet of brilliant red hanging in the tree.

Esther claps. "Go on. Get ready."

"Oh. Sorry. What do I have to get ready for?"

"Your wedding dress. The seamstress will be here in a half hour."

27

Vanessa

Life starts to move quicker,as if to remind me there is no escaping my fate. The seamstresses, hair, and makeup artists, and even a fashion consultant are all brought to my prison cell.

They smile and clap excitedly, transforming me day after day into the perfect bride and future Mrs. Carlos Garcia.

I'm nothing but his dress-up doll.

Manicures, pedicures, and waxes abound. New hairstyles and different makeup looks are created almost daily. I'm photographed for every experiment so Carlos can choose what look he wants me to have when.

Carlos busts into one of the appointments and throws a magazine in the hairstylists face. "This is the newest trend. She needs this." He storms out of the room as quickly as he entered it.

I try not to cry as they chop off all my long locks above my ear.

Parties fill the schedule on top of Carlos's other events. There are two engagement parties, the rehearsal dinner, and a huge church ceremony.

Top fashion gurus in Belize bring racks of clothes to the house daily. Hour after hour, I try on different combinations of designer clothes, shoes, and accessories. There are clothes to wear on the honeymoon, and negligees for every night going forward.

The seamstresses work all hours, putting together not one, but two wedding dresses—one for the vows and a different dress for the wedding celebration.

Through it all, I put on my fake smile while dying inside.

The moments I have to myself, I go on the balcony and gaze at the petals tossed on the lawn or the bouquets hanging in the trees.