Under Ground

by Alice Rachel

  There’s a line at the table; I have to wait. When I finally reach the punch bowl, I take the serving spoon. My hand is shaking. I try to control it as I fill my glass. I need to get a grip on myself. Someone behind me reaches for the spoon, and I extend it to them. When I look up, I see that it’s him. I stumble backward and almost drop punch all over myself. He holds out a hand to steady me, but I’ve recovered my balance already. I take a step back, and a flirtatious grin spreads on his face—the same mischievous smile that he sent me at the game. I find it both irritating and engaging. My cheeks burn under his gaze.

  “Hi, I'm Chi,” he says while beaming at me.

  His name sounds like "shy," not at all what I had imagined all those times I thought about him. He extends his hand to me as he introduces himself. I recoil and scan the room nervously to see if anyone has witnessed this incident. Even though there is still a line behind us, everyone's busy picking up cake or talking to each other. Chi laughs at my reaction.

  He bends close to my ear to whisper, “It’s okay. No one’s watching, and he’s not paying any attention to you.”

  His breath against my skin makes me shiver. His closeness is unsettling, but he steps back really quickly—too quickly. A part of me wants him closer. Of course, by “he” he means “William.” He knows. He knows whom I’m promised to, and yet he’s flirting with me. The recklessness of it all is both attractive and disconcerting.

  He beckons with his head for me to follow him. I’m at a loss what to do. There's this sudden pull inside me and a tempting voice in my ear telling me to go after him. But I’m petrified, paralyzed on the spot. I stay where I am while he makes his way through the crowd. I have to act now before he’s too far ahead or I may lose him.

  I run after him, but William chooses this exact second to step in front of me. I sigh in relief and frustration. Of course, William would choose this moment to finally show up. I steal a glance at Chi, but he’s already far away and he won’t turn around. I focus on William and force a smile on my face. Even if he's been rude to me, I need to hide the insane thoughts that have been flooding my mind since I saw Chi.

  “I was talking to my friends," William says, "and I lost track of time a little.”

  I guess that’s as good an excuse as it gets when it comes to him, so I just accept it. I search for Chi through the crowd. He has turned around at last, and he’s looking at me. When our eyes meet, he shrugs, gives a tiny smile, and walks away. I sigh in relief. I'm not sure what I was about to do, but it would have been a bad idea.

  “It’s okay. I went for more punch,” I reply. “Did you want some?”

  "No. Do you want to sit down?"

  I nod. I'd rather dance than remain still all evening, but I already know he's never going to ask, so I might as well forget the idea. We find seats. William is fidgety; he's stirring in his chair. His behavior is so annoying that I almost roll my eyes at him. I scan the crowd for Chi again, but he’s nowhere to be found. Disappointment crushes me down, and it doesn’t take long before William leans toward me to tell me he’ll be right back. Maybe I'm just imagining it, but I could swear his breath smelled like alcohol. He stands up and walks to the punch table. This time, he didn’t even ask me if I wanted some.

  I can’t take this anymore. I’ve had enough. I stand up and walk away. I step into the hall, as far from the door as I can. No one’s around, so I finally have space to breathe. I just want to go home, but William’s driver is to take me back and I can’t leave without him. I stand here for a while, and when I've calmed down a bit, I head back to the ballroom. But I stop in my tracks when Chi appears at the door. He looks one way down the hall and then turns his head to look directly at me. When I meet his gaze, his eyes shine with recognition and relief. That’s how I know he’s been looking for me. At least, someone cares that I am here. Chi smiles and walks my way.

  “Why aren’t you inside with your boyfriend?” he asks.

  There's something in his voice. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it sounded like jealousy. But surely I must be mistaken because he hardly knows me. I don’t answer his question. I’ve come here to cool down, not to be reminded of how cavalier William is being.

  Chi gets closer, and a voice inside my head warns me to run away right now while I still can. I ignore it. He comes right next to me and leans against the wall. He’s not touching me, but his shoulder is only inches away from mine. A shock of electricity courses through my body, and my heart starts pounding upon being so close to him. He lifts his knee and presses the sole of his shoe against the wall. He's relaxed and casual while my heart is racing and hurting my chest. Why can’t I be more serene like him?

  Chi doesn’t turn to me. He looks straight ahead at the posters facing us. He moves and brushes my hand with his fingertips. I gasp and almost pull back when he slides his hand behind mine and slips a piece of paper against my palm. He closes my hand around it, pulls away, and leans close to my ear to whisper, “Just in case you ever get bored with him and this stuck-up, nonsensical life.”

  A chill dances down my spine. He turns his face toward me and winks before pressing his index finger to his lips in a shushing motion. He smiles and is gone just as quickly as he appeared. What just happened? I take a deep breath and hold the paper, twisting it between my fingers. What is this all about? I don’t look at the note yet. It'd be too risky to read it here. I drop it deep inside my purse and make my way back to the ballroom.

  I brace myself and try to find William. He’s standing among his friends, with a drink in his hand. He looks intoxicated. I finally understand why he's been avoiding me all night to join his buddies. One of them must have sneaked in some alcohol. I want to tell him I’m going home, but I don’t dare. I wait a few seconds while scanning the room for a chair. I find one a few inches from the table. I’m heading toward it when foreign hands grab my waist. I jump and gasp in surprise. Someone kisses my neck. I flinch and push the person back. I turn around; it’s only William.

  His eyes look dazed. He’s completely drunk. I didn’t think I could feel any more disappointment, but apparently I was wrong. My aversion deepens as he tries to kiss me. I turn my face away so his lips brush against my cheek before he says, “You look beautiful tonight, you know that?”

  This would have felt like a compliment had it been said when William was sober. Instead, his words make me feel dirty. I fear the drive back home. I don’t like the hunger in his eyes. I want to sit down and wait until William has sobered up, hoping he won’t drink more than he already has. But instead, he utters the words I’ve been waiting for all evening and am now dreading, “Let’s go. This ball is boring.”

  He takes my hand in his and walks me to the door, then through the courtyard, all the way to the parking lot, where his driver is waiting for us. William stumbles and giggles to himself. His hilarity makes me nervous. If he wanted to, he could demand that our pre-nuptial night be tonight, and I can’t accept that. It can’t happen when he’s intoxicated. We look for his car. William is too inebriated to remember where his driver was supposed to park.

  Finally, we find the vehicle. William knocks on the front passenger’s door. The driver is about to get out, but William has already opened the back door. He climbs in and extends his hand for me to take. I step into the car, close the door behind me, and clip my seatbelt on. William is eyeing me with carnal avidity. I shiver. I start a random conversation just to take his mind off of his lustful thoughts.

  "How did you enjoy your evening?" I ask with a squeaky voice, choking on the lump in my throat.

  He closes the distance between us, his lips only inches from mine. "The fun hasn't even started yet," he says.

  A tremor courses right through me. I can't move. He kisses me, deeply. His breath smells like alcohol. I cringe, but try not to let it show. This is the first time a boy has ever kissed me, and it has got to be one of the worst moments of my life. I had daydreamed that it would be sweet and that it would taste good. Instead, William is
harsh and his breath is repulsive. I’m ashamed that he’s kissing me with his driver sitting right there. I steal a glance at him, but the man is looking straight at the road, pretending not to notice William's lewd behavior.

  William pushes his tongue inside my mouth and I almost gag. He runs his hands all over me, intrusive and rough. The strap of my dress comes undone. I pull it back up. I want to push him away, but I’m too scared of the consequences. If he is to be my husband, I might as well get used to it now. After all, love is a fairy tale, a luxury not even the rich can afford. I know that, but I can’t help wishing for something other than this. I was still hoping for my first time to be special.

  The ride from the school to my house should only take twenty minutes. I hope that won't leave him enough time to do anything. Please, don’t let him take me somewhere else to do other things; not tonight, not like this! Please, don't force me to do this in the car with the driver sitting right there either.

  He keeps on kissing me roughly until he sits back and stares at me. "I think we should wait. I don't feel like doing it right now. I'm too drunk, and I want to enjoy it."

  I'm so relieved, so thankful, that tears rise to my eyes and a sob comes choking me. I wipe the tears away before they can reach my cheeks. William just looks outside the window as if none of this crude invasion has happened, as if none of this matters, and I welcome his disinterest toward me. I'm distraught and utterly disgusted with him. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to keep on pretending that this is all fine with me. I don’t like what I’ve seen of him so far, and I can’t believe that he might become my husband someday. I examine him and the perfect exterior he wears as a façade, a veneer, to hide a cold heart of stone behind a wall of ice. I shudder and turn around to look at the dark sky. I try to count my blessings, though I can’t seem to find many of them right now.

  By the time we arrive at my house, a storm has gathered, with lightning electrifying the sky and rain pouring down like tears that were repressed for too long. The driver steps out to offer me an umbrella which I decline. I can’t get away from William fast enough. I wish him goodnight, but he doesn’t even turn his head to acknowledge me. A perfect ending to a perfect date! I'm so glad the night is over that I don’t even take offense. Time spent with William or his family comes with its own range of grief and abasement. I only find relief when it ends. How can I spend my life with him if I only find peace when escaping him?

  I run in my high heels, open the door to my house with my spare key, and step inside, soaking wet. Everyone's already asleep. I take the stairs quietly to my room, my feet light on the boards. I'm careful not to wake anyone up. I have no desire to talk about the events tonight. I just want to forget the evening ever happened. When I'm finally inside the room, I come crashing against the door and lean against it for support. Tears roll down my cheeks as soon as I hit the wood with my head, with waves of sadness swarming over me and a cloud of melancholy now overcasting my sullen heart.

  I pat my way to the bed and take my dress off. I can’t stop crying. I put on my sleeping gown and slide under the covers. They are cold and they smell of lavender—a familiar, refreshing, and comforting scent. The weight of the union is slowly crushing me. I have nothing to look forward to, nothing to rejoice about. I’m trapped, chained inside a cage that society has built for me and gilded with gold—the bars closing in on me tightly.

  I weep into my pillow for a long time and pray for the coffin that is my life to become real and suffocate me already. The whole evening turns dark and funereal as I feel my last hopes die.

  When my tears finally dry, I remember the piece of paper inside my bag. I sit up, bend down over the edge of the bed, and pat around for my purse. When I find it, I pull it onto the comforter and open it up to find the paper hidden inside. I take it out and feel its roughness against my fingertips. I open it slowly. The handwriting on it is smooth. I think of the hand that wrote the note—Chi’s hand—and the weight upon my shoulders lessens. I read the words, but they confuse me. I drop the paper back in the purse, and Chi's phrases spin inside my head, like messages on a billboard. They flash at me like beacons of light calling me back to life.

  Chapter 7

  Terror fills my sleep with nightmares of William forcing his way on me and pinning me down. I'm screaming and pounding my fists against his chest, but he won't stop. When I open my eyes, I can still smell his foul breath against my mouth. I can still hear his loud and cruel laughter, too. I shake my head to chase the bad dreams away, but I know they will follow me all day.

  Most nights, I manage to sleep soundly, but only because I never want to wake up and slumber is better than reality. I feel numb—all the time. In the evening, I find myself wishing that I won’t arise the next day. And each morning comes with excruciating pain and disappointment as I open my eyes to find that I am, in fact, still alive. I've been having trouble eating as well. I force myself to do so, for lack of another choice, but each bite I take leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Every day, I go through the same efforts to face my life, to prepare myself for a future I did not choose.

  This morning, I’m awake long before Emily comes to my room. It's five o'clock, but I have no desire to pull the pillow over my head and go back to sleep. It will only bring more night terrors my way. The fog clouding my mind makes me drowsy. It promises to be a bad day spent trying to stay awake while dreading sleep.

  I head to the bathroom, turn on the faucet, and wash my face with cold water. The pounding in my head is insistent, nauseating. I turn around and go back to my bed. I still have about three hours before Emily walks in. Even on weekends, I have to wake up early. Mother claims it helps me fight self-indulgence and laziness.

  I grab my purse and take out the piece of paper. I open it and feel its texture against my skin. It's reassuring for some reason. I study the handwriting, and sudden longing fills my heart. The words on the note have ignited a flame inside me, like a promise unspoken. The rhymes sound like rebellion, but somehow, deep inside my heart, I can’t help but agree with them. I can’t help but wish for it to be true.

  When the darkness meets the light, in fear it shall flee.

  Not all is what it seems, open your eyes and you will see.

  When the chains break apart, the enslaved shall be free.

  When the world has changed, a new dawn it will be.

  I turn the paper over, where a place, a time, and a date have been written on the back.

  Monday, 5.30 p. m – The Arch

  Make it happen!

  Is this a date? What is this boy thinking? How am I supposed to meet him? My heart races with excitement at the thought of doing something forbidden. I want to see Chi again. Mother has always taught me not to crave what I could never possess. She told me it would only bring me frustration, sadness, and anguish. Of course, Mother is right, but a part of me is now yearning for what I know I cannot have—one simple chance to break the rules and meet the boy with dark brown eyes. The yearning inside me grows, a sudden desire to get to know him, a need so sharp that it cuts through my core. It's taking over, and a part of me just wants to let it devour me whole.

  Is his poem an invitation to rebel? What darkness is he referring to? Our world isn’t perfect, but for sure, it’s not that bad, right? And yet, I can't deny that his rhymes echo something that I have felt inside me for a while now. They express that desire I’ve had to flee, this wish to hit something so hard it will break. They give resonance to the rage I feel every single day, this anger that is starting to oppress me.

  The time of the meeting is not so late that it would be hard to get there. I stay at school occasionally after class to study with Melissa. Chi wants to meet tomorrow though. The date isn't convenient, but I could tell Mother I have a project to work on. I could leave school as if nothing was going on, meet Chi, and return to the station before Walter comes to pick me up.

  The Arch is about a mile away from my school. I'll have to walk through the forest and go up the hill unti
l I get there. It's a desolate place in the mountains. The original monument was located close to Washington Square Park in New York City. It didn’t get moved; it was simply duplicated. Only the most important monuments and pieces of architecture were relocated to Eboracum City and kept in shape. The Statue of Liberty is one of them.

  When the waters started rising, our state had already spent years preparing for the eventuality of a surge. But when Hurricane Vega hit New York City by surprise, people had to evacuate in a hurry to escape, and not everything could be saved. Some treasures were lost forever. It’s still possible to see some buildings emerging from the water, or so I've been told. No one's allowed in that area.

  The Arch used to be nice and clean. But eventually, the authorities stopped taking care of it. It is now blackened with dirt and intertwined with vines growing along its sides. Hardly anyone ever goes there anymore, which makes it easy to hide and remain unseen for a while. Lance used to take me there to play when I was little. He used to baby-sit me when our parents had events to attend. Lance wasn't supposed to take me out, but he disobeyed anyway and we spent hours chasing each other around the Arch. It will be a good spot to meet Chi.

  I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow, I’m going to meet him. Elation takes flight inside my heart like butterflies breaking out of their ensnaring chrysalises. This joy feels foreign and exhilarating, bringing a genuine smile to my lips for the first time in years.

  Chapter 8

  I have trouble focusing at school the next day. I told Mother I'd be working with Melissa at the library, and she took it for granted that I was telling the truth. Lying was not as easy as I thought it would be. The entire time, I felt like the deception would print itself into my skin for her to read. But I’ve been molded into obeying so well that it'd never cross her mind that I could lie to her. She assumes a mere frown would be enough to keep me in place.