Dark Elf Maria

"Don't fucking yell at me! It's the USA! I have to go, you know that I have to go! This is that change I've been waiting for my whole life!" She cried out frustratedly, throwing her hands in the air.

He slammed his fist on the table and ran his hands through his blonde hair. Eyes full of rage—she could feel the undiluted anger that coursed his body as his breath itched. His lips twitched and she hoped he wouldn't say something to break her even more, she was already disoriented and confused and hurt—hurt that she was leaving him and everything else behind.

"Andrew, say something! Please, say something without yelling or throwing things. You were aware of it, you knew I wanted this and you helped me work towards achieving this big dream—even when I had nothing! It's finally happening, if this works out, it could be our big break!" She persuaded, wanting him to see that this was not a random discomfort or an unnecessary departure.

"You fucking slut." He muttered before a fierce growl departed his throat, a sound he always made when he was mad. A chill skittered down her spine; the first thing she needed to do was go close to the nearest exit if at all she wanted a chance to survive.

"After ten years of hustling for you to be a fucking somebody, you're running off to New York to live up to your original intentions. I knew I should have left you to rot that night, leaving your cold body to be torn apart by the dogs in the street, I hear they eat their kinds." He raised his head and his brown eyes made hers, she tried hard not to flinch. She was used to this; all the nasty comments that exited his, all the derogatory words his lips formed—it was as common in their relationship as the kisses they shared.

"No, it's not like that. I am not abandoning you, mi amor, I am going to work harder so you don't have to. I am going to earn a lot and find us a way to live our dreams," she said again, swallowing, "This is a big deal, don't you see? It's A.C.E! The A.C.E that manages most of all the biggest celebrities, if I do well for the first three months, I would be given a permanent position, mi amor! We could make it bigger from there."

She wanted to move closer to him and hold his hands, but something else reminded her of what a terrible idea that could be. It could end with a blow to her stomach or a kick to her ribs.

Well, as long as it wasn't her face, she should be fine, she thought. But she held back and maintained her distance.

"Don't lie to my face. I always knew this was a sham, now that you made it clearer, it's fine. I'd deal with it."

"You will?"

"Yes, you have to pick between me or New York. I'd go out now, if you are adamant on abandoning our little familia and going, I shouldn't meet you here by 9 pm, puta," he spat before walking to the door—where she stood. She quickly took a few steps away from it, not knowing whether she could handle any hits after what he just said.

She made to protest but she didn't, she knew it would be better if she just left him for a while, maybe if he went out, we could come back to talk about this.

"I meant what I just said, leave if you want to, just make sure I don't come back to my house with you in it." He threw her a glare that weakened her knees.

With that, he slammed the door shut and she crumbled against the wall like an anthill does at the slightest touch, partially thankful he didn't hit her, and more than partially terrified of what he had just said.

She had known Andrew the longest in her life and he had never been one to leave during an argument, instead, he throw tantrums, and hit her till she condescended. His leaving made her thousand times more terrified of what the consequence might be.

She quickly pulled her dark, silky hair into a ponytail, and settled on a green plastic chair in the living room then she clicked on her phone and the email appeared again, reminding her of my acceptance into the Talent Agency in New York.

Heaving a deep sigh, she rose and pranced the room like it made the decision easier to make. She had applied for the position of a personal assistant and her luck shone through. This was a step closer to her lifelong dream, a dream heavy enough to pull her up whenever she got too tired.

Was she ready to give this up? She didn't see anything else except that—her, in a set reading her next monologue and watching other actors learn theirs too. Then the director yells at them for messing up their lines. "Cut!" He'd yell and they'd giggle before retaking whatever scene that was.

The dilemma of the situation was the heaviest she'd felt in a while. Even when she had the choice of leaving the orphanage or getting adopted, she had chosen to leave, in naivety, thinking she'd make her path clearer alone. That was when she met Andrew, the knight in shining armour that offered to take her in the night she was almost sexually abused by older strangers when parading the dark, cold streets of Spain. She had only been fourteen then, diminutive and tattered.

He said he saw a part of himself in here, that they both were strays—wanderers who had no ties to anything in the world. He occupied the position of a parent, and soon enough, that of a lover, it was more of an appreciation, she had submitted herself to him. She didn't know what having one originally felt like but she assumed everyone had an Andrew in their lives. All Andrews to their different personalities, and so she chose to embrace hers.

They did odd jobs, his more than hers to get her all the way through high school and college, with an undying hope of her becoming the saviour for them. That time has come, but she had no idea it was going to be this difficult to arrive at a decision.

"Maria, what do you do?" She questioned herself, the silence of the room tickled her skin. Andrew had been there for her over the years, and she practically owed him her life, she owed him everything including the clothes she wore, the shelter, the food—basically everything.