Tamed by the Beast:His little Doll

Mira Ashford's POV

I'm so tired. I stare ahead at the streets, my head full of scattered thoughts. I sigh slowly, as if the weight of the world is pressing on my chest, and try to gather my scattered mind. I really don't know when things started to get this bad. No one loves me, no one pats my body when I break down... except maybe one person. But even that, I'm not sure about. I mean-I'm not sure if he really loves me.

Every day, the same routine. What is the meaning of life to me? There's no point in staying alive, no reason to keep breathing. My voice catches when I think about it, as if the words are choking in my throat. When a person realizes they are alone, that no one supports them... they start doubting their own existence and ask: Why am I still alive? Shouldn't there be a reason to keep living? I don't have that reason. I don't have anyone.

I'm lonely and lost. I just want someone to find me, to save me from this loneliness I live in. To pull me out of the darkness that consumes me every time I hear just one word directed at me.

The strange thing about my thoughts... is that I actually have a family. Yes, I have a father named Ashford, two brothers, and one sister. And they're all older than me. I'm the youngest.

My oldest brother is Carlos. He's twenty-eight. Then comes my sister, Jeska, who's twenty-six. After her is Lucas, twenty-four... and then me.

They are my siblings, and there's only a two-year gap between us. What I know is this: siblings are supposed to be the strong wall you lean on when you fall. But the ones I have... break me every single day. There's not a day I don't suffer.

That's why I say I'm tired and worn out. God... my head feels heavy! Damn these thoughts that take over my whole soul, drain it dry, and make me hate who I am. Damn me... I'm cursed.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I flinched at Max's voice. He was driving beside me, but I wasn't really with him. God... I was staring ahead, watching the streets, lost for a moment.

Max shouted, his voice a little loud but full of worry and reproach: "What's wrong, Mira? I've been talking to you for a while, and all I see is you resting your head on the window, staring forward, ignoring me!"

My voice felt heavy as I answered in a broken, almost whispering tone, like the thoughts were tearing me apart from the inside: "I'm really tired."

The sun was already about to set. I had gone out with him and we sat on the beach... because I was suffocating at home.

Max is the only person who understands me. His tone is warm, his eyes full of kindness and a cautious hope that I won't completely break. We're still early in our relationship, but whenever he sees I'm upset and tell him, he comes and takes me outside. He's a few months older than me.

The whole house opposes the idea that anyone cares about me. They don't like the idea of me feeling safe or comfortable. I've just accepted that no one in my family cares about me... and the idea that they all hate me... crushes my soul completely. I can't even say why they hate me... because then I'd break down and cry nonstop.

I took a deep breath, squeezed my hands tightly to hold back tears, then said with a hesitant, slightly shaking voice: "I'm really sorry, Max... but I'm tired. The thoughts got to me. What were you saying?"

Max's voice was calm, trying to reassure me: "It's okay. I was saying-how about we go out for lunch tomorrow?"

I smiled faintly, trying to hide my exhaustion and gloom, and replied in a soft, hesitant tone: "That sounds nice. I'll think about it and let you know. Max... thank you for caring."

Max's voice was warm and comforting: "What are you saying? I'm here... always."

I smiled at him, though my face was pale, thinking about the problem I had at home before I asked him to come get me and take me out. The problem was about me cursing Jeska. She upset me with what she said about Max, insulting him in ugly words. The curse slipped out of me without control, but as usual, she blew things out of proportion and went to Carlos. God, he gets angry fast and hates me terribly.

When I told him I cursed her because she spoke about Max, he screamed at me. His loud voice filled the place, insulting me and Max in front of my father, who sat still, and Jeska, who smiled as she watched, as if she enjoyed the scene. Then I went to my room and called Max to come get me. That's how I ended up going out with him. I told him what happened, and he comforted me... if only he knew what they say about him in this house.

I sighed sadly as I saw the street in front of the house slowly appear. I swallowed hard, wishing I didn't have to go back. At school, all the girls waited for the bell to go home to their families-except me. I was the only one who didn't want to go back, the only one who preferred to stay at school rather than face her bitter reality.

After finishing school, I didn't continue my studies. There was no university. Not because we were poor or because of those curses-on the contrary, our financial situation was good. But I just couldn't anymore. My passion for life had gone out. They interfered in everything that concerned me. When it was time for university, I wanted to apply for a major I loved, but I couldn't because they opposed it. They wanted me to study what they chose for me. And that's when I lost my passion... I let my years pass in front of me, staring at them with nothing but regret. Others my age were almost done with their studies, some had graduated, but me-I was dying a little more every day.

I swallowed hard as I felt the car stop in front of the house. The sun had set. I looked at Max with a faint smile, said goodbye, and got out. I walked toward the door, but with every step I took on this house's floor, my soul screamed at me: Go back! Because of their looks... They love each other-all of them-except me. The only one treated like this. Damn me.

I stepped inside, swallowed my spit when I saw them all gathered in the living room. I took a deep breath, paused for a long moment to gather courage, then headed to my room... my only refuge.

Jessica's sharp, commanding voice, her eyes like poison: "Where have you been until now?"

I answered coldly, trying hard to hide the tension, my voice trembling slightly: "None of your business."

She replied with sarcasm and arrogance, "What did you say, you damn brat?! Speak properly. If I hear one more word, you grab the door handle and leave!"

I spoke in a cold voice but with a hidden lump in my throat, struggling to breathe: "Mind your own business, Jessica, and leave me alone. I'm not really here for you."

She grew harsher, cruel: "Speak properly, you filthy-"

I clenched my teeth hard, forcing myself to control my voice, then shouted at her with broken tones, as if my voice was choking:

"Stop!"

I turned toward her, my eyes shining with tears streaming down my cheeks-I couldn't hold them back.

I saw the cursed... my siblings, sitting motionless.

And the so-called father, with them... with her.

And she... standing before me, speaking.

I hate that title so much because of their poisoned minds...

They think I caused my mother's death.

My God, help me... just thinking about it kills me.

My mother died when I was born, and that made them believe it was my fault-that I was the cause.

Since I was little, the difference between me and them was clear.

They were siblings who supported and loved each other. I was just... the only hated one in this house.

Since I was young, I heard their words, their accusations-I hated them.

Every time her voice entered my ears, it caused a ringing that never stopped in my head, as if it gnawed at my bones and shattered them.

I said with a trembling, broken voice, trying to hold back my tears:

"Don't you dare say or utter those stupid things!"

My voice trembled, as if the words were cutting off my breath, and my hands shook badly. I looked at her with tearful eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling, but it was useless. My voice was a whisper, broken between one sigh and another.

Jessica, sarcastic and loud:

"Why? Aren't you?"

Her tone was cruel, as if she wanted to pierce my soul with her words. Her face gleamed with that smile that meant only pain for me.

I screamed at her, my hands gripping the edges of my clothes tightly, as if trying to control my nerves:

"Enough! Stop talking!"

I stood frozen for a moment, then without thinking, I raised my hand and slapped her cheek hard. My ears rang from the sound of the slap, and I heard her loud cries. I turned to the other side while my tears kept pouring.

At that moment, silence filled the room. The siblings sat still, and my father stared with indifference. No one spoke a word.

I felt my heart beating fast, my breath quickening. I clenched the doorframe tightly and took a deep breath to calm myself. I knew I was broken, but I needed to express the pain somehow.

I left the room, hearing my own fast steps on the floor, my hands shaking, and my heart about to explode.

Outside, I stopped for a moment, closed my eyes, and took a long sigh, as if trying to release the weight inside my chest.