Chapter 11 The Perfect Doll

• The girl staring back at me in the bathroom mirror isn’t me. She isn’t the real Marina Vascotto, she’s an imposter who forced the real me to hide deep inside. The makeup on my face feels heavy, like it’s dragging me down. My eyelashes are covered in dark mascara and my lips are painted a deep red. Giovanni said he likes the red so I always wear it, hoping to avoid his disappointment because it usually leads to pain. My dark hair is professionally curled as it cascades down my back and the dress I’m wearing is made of an expensive golden silk. I look beautiful but I feel ugly.
• The spot between my thighs aches and I washed away the evidence of last night right when I woke up. I ran into the bathroom and turned on the shower to mask my sobs. I scrubbed my skin so hard that it turned red. When I emerged from the shower, Gio questioned it. I lied and said it was because the water was hot. He believed me and walked down the stairs with a grunt. It was a lie. The shower was ice cold.
• I slip on my heels and walk down the stairs to meet my fiancé. I contemplate throwing myself down the staircase but ultimately I don’t. It’s too much of a risk. If I don’t die from it, then I’ll surely wish I was dead.