Anna
The insects buzzed in my ear, tickling my lobes, disrupting my daydream as I flicked them away. With the pests gone, I returned to my inner world shrouded in a white mist, imagining myself living a happier, peaceful life; no fighting, no arguing, no guns, none of that.
Hearing one loud honk of a car horn pulled me out of that fantasy, returning me to reality once more. My heart throbbed with the roar of this foreign environment, my body moving along the bustling street as I kept tight with the crowd. The breeze of the wind penetrated my suit jacket, throwing it open, cooling my nerves and skin. For one moment, it made me forget the past, made me forget the tearful nights and the nonstop bickering.
From under my fedora, I tipped my head and secured the purse slung over my arm. I was on my way to the Mishima Zaibatsu, looking forward to working there. They'd given me a specialized card and an eight-digit pin number I had to remember for proof of identity and admittance to the building. My palms were sweaty inside my leather gloves. I wish I wasn't so nervous, but I was, wanting to make a good impression.
Traffic congested the streets, leaving a few slight gaps in the road for me to squeeze through. I stayed to the right, watching the bicyclists pass, hearing the clamor of this thriving, overpopulated world, intimidating yet calming. Japan wasn't as green and didn't smell as rainy as Ireland did, but over the months I lived here, it was like a second home to me. Over time, I learned to keep pace with the clustered crowds and adapt to all the customs and etiquette.
Moreover, the Japanese loved red and so did I.
Red had many meanings behind it: anger, passion, love--just to name a few. Emotions that stirred the human blood. They described me so well. Red was the sight I often saw, was the blood I had on my fingertips from the fights I had with my sister indoor and out, the flush on my cheeks, the roses of the Dublin gardens, the taste of fruit on my tongue from the trees of my homeland. Red was my signature, my essence, what I felt, and what I believed. Red was everything around me.
The country had everything, from exciting festivals to cheery locals.
Best of all: no Nina. No longer did I have to worry about finding bombs rigged to my car or having grenades lobbed at me through opened windows.
My sister and me had a fierce rivalry erupting over our father's exclusive love for her; the stare downs we used to have were as cold as the River Liffey, our fights as endless as the Irish countryside. The street was a war zone whenever our paths crossed; we charred sidewalks, tore up roads, wrecked buildings, and caused thousands of dollars worth of property damage. It was a miracle our battles hadn't killed anyone and we were too sly for the police to identify and catch us. We'd live to fight another day, but I grew tired of fighting and just wanted out to pursue something normal.
Love was my next destination, but the backbiting, the monosyllabic conversations, the lies, and the drunken atmosphere I had put up with for far too long turned it into an emotional train wreck. Throughout my interactions with the opposite gender, I learned a lot.
Men were so two-dimensional, only existing to strut their power and masculinity. My ex-boyfriends back in Ireland were all like that; they'd stare at themselves in the mirror all the time, admiring their medium built bodies, hardly giving me a glance. They'd tell me to cook and not talk, to clean and not complain as they lazed in their armchairs and scrunched their faces at me. To this day, one of my biggest regrets was not putting my foot down when I should've, whishing I wasn't so faithful and kind. Their satisfaction was more important to me than my own and it had almost undone me. To them, I was a footnote, insignificant like the dirt underneath their feet, and because of that, we had to part ways. Breakup after breakup was what drove me away from the hopeless romantic delusions I used to have.
Sometimes, I felt I had the words of what men could do to me stamped across my forehead; they were as indelible as a stain on my blouse, as the memories of years before. Naivety had done me in too many times, leaving me shattered and feeling damaged beyond repair. After a while, I decided I wouldn't go down that path again. From that day forth, I was a man's doormat no longer.
With time, things changed, however. If any man dared to hurt me or any other woman the way my exes did, they were in for a rude awakening. It was a new beginning in the chapter of my life. There I was—Anna Williams, the devious damsel, seducing men's hearts before stomping them into the ground. Love was just a game where I'd con the most despicable men into liking me, exploit their weaknesses, and break their hearts. They'd wake up the next morning to find their stuff stolen, their bodies bound to the bed, and the absence of a woman whose real name they never knew. Of course, I never lowered myself to sleeping with them. I'd seek them out in clubs and bars, turn on the charm, and do what I had to do.
On finishing the job, I'd make sure I left no traces behind leading back to me and I'd give whatever I took away to the women they had hurt or people less fortunate. There was always the likelihood of endangering my life, but I liked the thrill of danger and always brought my own "tools" to the dance if I needed them. In those days, if I saw a hunk, I'd make him mine with little effort. No man was too hard for me to snag.
Those were the days--but now it was time to get serious.
At first, I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, but it came to me: I wanted to work as a bodyguard. Sure, it may've sounded strange, but I didn't see why it wasn't feasible. I mean, I wasn't built like a tank, but I was strong, agile, and had the stamina for it. Nobody in my family had done it before and I was always one for originality. The skills were there and I was loyal enough to care for a life other than my own. Furthermore, I had to prove to myself I didn't need the life my father had tried to force on me. Father believed I couldn't do anything because I wasn't like my sister, and once, he had me believing the same thing. However, I had to prove him wrong, show him his second-born was capable of more than he assumed. As a bonus, I could excel at something Nina hadn't, an accomplishment only I could claim.
Lucky for me, I went to college, unlike my sister, who couldn't make it past secondary school because she dropped out. Playing it smart made my career options much more versatile.
I had my career down, but it seemed my love life was over for now. All the men I met shared the same narcissistic qualities and chauvinistic mentalities.
The only boyfriend I had who stood out from the rest was Lee Chaolan, a silver-haired, tuxedo-wearing stud. He had wealth, class, and charm; anything a woman could want in a man. Alas, he was too good for me to have all to myself. No woman could resist the magnetism of a self-made playboy; his promiscuous nature led to me finding my belongings violated and someone's lingerie in our bedchambers when I wasn't around. The room always stunk of sex and the array of evidence Lee had tried to sweep under the rug when I confronted him.
My body tensed and my heart raced at the thought of him holding another woman, kissing her throat, and doing things to her that I thought were exclusive between him and me. I tried to soften the voice I'd almost lost in yelling, tried to convince myself what Lee did behind my back was just a phase he'd grow out of. Against my hopes, he showed no sincerity to stop seeing other women, and at that point, I gave him a choice: them or me. Lee chose them, so I left, brokenhearted and alone once again. Same sappy ending as the rest.
With the vows we made, I always thought Lee would forever love me and we'd wed and live in a castle somewhere, just like in the fairy tales. Boy, was I in need of a reality check back then. It was Lee who made me believe in love again and convinced me to give up conning. However, after we fell out, my faith in love diminished, and I decided to move on and never con again. If I had my heart broken one more time, I felt I'd cease to exist.
Despite my ill will toward Lee, my visits to the beach made me think of him as if nothing happened between us. When I closed my eyes, I could see myself at Lee's beachside manor, feel his touch on my wrist, and hear his voice in my ear. Even though I hated him, he had instilled himself within me as if he'd cast a spell I couldn't reverse. It felt like only yesterday when Lee's lips last touched me, his tongue prodding against mine, our emotions soaring like gannets over the Skellig Islands. It upset me every night because I couldn't forget him, no matter how much I forced myself to.
Through it all, I tried to focus on the good more than the bad when I stayed with Lee. I remember how I used to lift my sarong overhead and let it waft in the breeze, the sun on my shoulders, my smile bright. The gentle slopes, the shallow shores, the apple martinis I used to sip on; it was all good fun, but like the lanterns Father used to hang outside back at home, the fun eventually lost its flare when I discovered Lee cheating on me. After that, my world was dark, and I felt that flare would never come back.
Because of Lee, I moved to Asia after we crossed paths in a cafe many months ago. He was on a business trip at the time, and he had such a way with words I couldn't tell if he was the real deal or just full of it. Regardless, I fell for him, and in no time, we were in each other's arms, cuddling behind closed doors. He had said that Asia was full of happiness, promises, and unlimited possibilities when asking me to relocate there. That was wonderful then, but now it sounded like something I'd read off a traveling brochure. Men were clever like that, yet now I knew better than to fall for cheap catchphrases stolen off a folded piece of paper. With nothing in Europe to return to, Asia was my new home.
Lee had told me about working in the Zaibatsu when we were still together. He had a job there and he figured it'd keep us closer if we were able to work at the same place. Lee had put in a good word for me; he was able to get me in because he had some pull in the company through his relation to the Zaibatsu CEO. Although I was grateful, Lee and me later quarreled and broke up. Out of frustration over his demeaning position as secretary, I learned Lee had a dispute with the CEO, left the company, and disappeared. The news made me smile and suited me just fine because I wouldn't have to worry about seeing his face now.
If only I had a friend other than myself I could confide in, maybe life wouldn't seem as glum and depressing. Sure. I had had boyfriends, but not real friends. As unreal as it sounded, I had no idea how pleasant that luxury was. I longed to have someone who could talk to me, open up, and understand me like a normal human being. If they gave me the respect I wanted, I'd give them the same in return. Then again, I thought I was better off without friends. I guess I feared we'd fight over something stupid and renounce our friendship in the aftermath. Sometimes, remaining alone was best, just to avoid having to deal with that nonsense.
Like most people, I wasn't without my critics. Some didn't approve of my revealing attire or outspoken attitude, but I didn't care. I was the raging wildfire nobody could tame and I'd burn for as long as I liked. So what if I was a little rowdy, flirty, and adventurous? These were different extensions of who I was, the qualities mocked and frowned upon by society I gladly embraced.
I feigned having a cocky attitude to hide my insecurities, my true feelings, my flaws, and my deepest, darkest secrets.
'Don't let them know who you are, Anna. They'll eat you alive. Hide your faults. Disregard your feelings. Live a lie, if you have to. You are who you are, and it's none of their business.' What the voice in my head kept telling me was the only way to live and I had to learn to accept it.
My thoughts returned to the real world as my stroll ended.
The Zaibatsu loomed over me like the many stony, stark castles of Ireland, excluding the wall-encasing moss and rocky pinnacles scattered in the foreground. I slid the card I had through, but an error message flashed across the interface of the tiny screen on the door. My eyes narrowed and I tried it again, earning the same result.
'Why isn't it working? Is the damn thing broke?'
"Need help?"
The voice talking to me made me turn to its owner: an African American with a Mohawk; defiantly not something I saw everyday, let alone here in Japan. It seemed like a long time since I last heard someone address me in English. His uniform left his physique to my imagination. If it weren't for the extra height my pumps gave me, I'd swear he was much taller than me. He had hands large enough to crush rocks and the mass of someone I wouldn't want to run into late at night on the streets. Despite that, he had a friendly presence about him. He was a decent-looking man, trimmed goatee with sideburns and all, but he wasn't my type. Besides, men were far from my mind right now; well, at least courting them was.
"Nah, that's ok. I got it." Curse my inflated ego for always getting the best of me. Nowadays, I was too proud to accept a man's help. They just didn't know how to take hints anymore.
I slid the card through the slot again, failing.
"Here." He reached over to take the card from me before I could decline, flipped it over, and slid it through; wouldn't you know it, the machine accepted it. "You were holding the card up on the wrong side."
"Bollocks…" I murmured, lowering my head in shame.
Leave it to a man to make me feel stupid. It was obvious he didn't mean to and had done this out of courtesy, but I still hated him for it. At least he hadn't laughed at my ignorance.
"Um, thanks."
"No problem." He nodded, handed my card back to me, and seated himself on the beach near the door.
I punched in my pin number and unlocked the door, stepping into where my life would begin anew.