Married At Eighteen Trapped

Trapped

...

The kitchen smelled of stale coffee and something burnt. Her aunt stood by the counter, arms crossed, eyes sharp as broken glass.

Mayra Maverick (FL Aunt)

You think you're special, huh? *snaps*

Mayra Maverick (FL Aunt)

If your parents hadn’t left that money, do you really think I’d be stuck with you?💢

She blinked. The words processed one by one like a slow-loading page.

Her parents. Money. Stuck with her.

She wasn’t sure what to say. Statements like this confused her—they weren’t questions, but people still expected a response.

Astria Rodrigues (FL)

*fingers curled into the hem of her skirt*

Astria Rodrigues (FL)

I didn’t ask to be here *says flatly*

Mayra Maverick (FL Aunt)

Of course, you didn’t. But I’m the one who feeds you, clothes you, deals with your weird little habits. Do you know how exhausting that is? *chuckles bitterly*

Weird little habits.

She squeezed her hands tighter, pressing them against her stomach to keep them still. She wanted to rock, flap her hands, retreat into numbers or facts, but experience told her that would make things worse.

Mayra Maverick (FL Aunt)

You always act like a freak💢

Mayra Maverick (FL Aunt)

Just be normal for once!💢

Astria Rodrigues (FL)

(What does that mean?)

She understood numbers, equations, things that made sense. But "normal" wasn’t measurable. It wasn’t something she could calculate.

Astria Rodrigues (FL)

I don’t understand what you want me to do

Mayra Maverick (FL Aunt)

Exactly. You don’t understand anything. God, you’re useless.

That word—useless—sent a strange, heavy feeling into her chest.

She knew it wasn’t logical to react. But the words stuck. Like gum on a shoe. Like tar in her lungs.

Astria Rodrigues (FL)

I eat less food than an average person.

Astria Rodrigues (FL)

I require minimal attention. I don’t take up much space. Mathematically speaking, I am not a significant burden.

Mayra Maverick (FL Aunt)

Jesus. Just shut up and go to your room.💢 *shouts*

Astria Rodrigues (FL)

*walks away*

Mayra Maverick (FL Aunt)

💢💢

She obeyed, not because she was scared, but because she didn’t know what else to do.

As she climbed the stairs, she ran her fingers along the wooden railing, counting each groove. Seven. Seven grooves. Seven is a prime number. Prime numbers don’t belong anywhere.

Just like her.

...

The sun set and before she knew it was night. She stared into the night sky watching the stars shining brightly.

It feels like only the stars knew where they belong. Free, shining and high up in the sky.

While she's trapped in this large mansion, alone and isolated.



