CHIARA
21 years ago…
The door was kicked open. The crayons pouch that Mamma got me for Boxing Day dropped from my hands. A man in a long black coat and a scary face walked in. "Laura, my love. I found you." He uttered with a scary grin on his dark face.
Papa moved forward,pulling me behind him. "Who the hell are you, and why are you in my house? What's the meaning—"
"Shut the fuck up! Don't say a fucking word!" The scary bad man shouted. His eyes, his face. I couldn't look at him.
I gripped Papa's pants, my heart beating fast, "Papa, I'm scared." He looked down at me with a smile on his face, his hand caressing my hair, "It's okay, baby, don't be scared. I won't let him harm you." And then turned to look at the man, "Who are you? And what do you want?"
The scary bad man said to Mamma. "Why don't you tell him who I am, Laura? Tell him now,
sweetie."
Papa asked Mamma, "Honey, what is he talking about?"
Mamma was standing behind Papa just like me. Her face was sweaty. Why was Mamma sweating? Was she scared like me? But Mamma was never afraid. Her hand dropped on my shoulder. It was shaking.
Mamma shook her head, looking at the scary bad man. "Hon, I don't know. I don't even know
him." Mamma replied to Papa.
The scary bad man looked at Mamma with anger, "You don't know me, huh?" He laughed. It was scary. It made me want to run into my bedroom and hide in my closet. "Alright then, you pushed my hand, Laura." He said and took out a gun. My eyes grew bigger.
Bang! Bang!
Blood started to pool on the ground. Fire erupted. Screams. Papa screamed so hard. "Papa! Papa! Papa!" I was crying as I called him. But he didn't respond to me like he always did. And Mamma just sat down, not moving and not saying a word. Just crying.
...
"You caused this. You killed Prince." A sword soaked in blood. Blood pooling beneath me. A shriek.
"No!" I sprang up screaming, and gasping for air. My heart squeezed so hard inside my chest as though someone was twisting it with their merciless hands. My cheeks were wet with tears, you'd think lava was streaming instead of painful salt water.
It was that dream, again. I breathed in and out for a while, sobbing as I tried to shove the dreadful and heart-wrenching memories to the back of my mind, again. My eyes squinted. I worked until they adjusted to the room light. This wasn't my room. Whose room was this? I got up on my feet, and my head buzzed, forcing me right back on the bed. I groaned, pressing my temples.
He walked in, "You are up?" Marco's face was full of cuts and bruises. I caused that. I looked away from his face, swallowing hard.
"It's nothing really." He uttered in a low voice. "No, it's not." I yanked up his shirt and gasped. Tears formed in my eyes instantly. How could someone be so cruel even to their own blood? He had a big bruise on his ribs. Just how badly was he beaten up for my mistake? How worse could it get?
I let go of the shirt and sat down. A shaky breath left my mouth, and my head hung low. "I'm sorry for causing you so much pain. I'm sorry for being so selfish, bud." My voice was dry. I couldn't even look him in the eyes. I was supposed to protect him, not leave him in danger. I was a fool to think Antonio wouldn't harm him. "I shouldn't have left you alone with them." My heart clenched.
"Hey, look at me." I shook my head. I was the worst sister in the world. "Chichi, look at me." He demanded. I slowly lifted my head to face him, only to get hurt again at the sight of his face. "It wasn't your fault. Everything that happened wasn't your fault; we planned it together. And I don't blame you for what happened. I never did." He said.
"You never did." I reached for his hand and kissed it. He never asked a thing about my impulsiveness and selfishness, never. And it hurt me so bad that this time, I caused pain to the last person I'd ever want to get hurt.
Later on, we came back from Prince's grave. My eyes were swollen and stinging. My heart was heavier than two mountains combined. My feet were lacking energy, and if it were not for Marco supporting me, I would've collapsed.
Marco said it's been three days since the horrifying event. He said I was passing out and returning to my senses repeatedly and that I had a high fever. But one night I dreamt of Mamma. She was sobbing while she told me how sorry she was for zoning out on me after Papa's death. Sorry for not being there for me when we were both going through the toughest moment of our lives.
Consequences! Consequences! Consequences! I was so fed up with them.
Two days ago, I lost yet another reason to believe that I wasn't entirely a monster. Sometimes I wondered if I was cursed by God to live this painful life or if it was just Antonio's curse that was eating me alive. Whenever I had friends and did some trouble, they would pay the consequences, hence I had no friends growing up and never needed one.
Whenever I had a lover, they were either found dead or lost and never found, hence I stopped dating a very long while ago. Whenever he saw me happy with my mother, he got jealous of how close we were and tormented her with words. Telling her over and over again that I was her favorite and she hated their sons, hence the forced separation between a mother and daughter, brother and sister's rift. All because of a step-father's stupid jealousy.
Antonio has ruined every aspect of my life that brought me light and happiness. He made sure I never experienced pure love and joy. And it has been going on since the day he killed my father and jailed my mother and me in his sickened, dark, and worthless life. He must've been happy whenever he saw me hurting. He must've had a feast that night. I clenched my hands.
One day, all I needed was one day and alone time with him.
My entire life, I've been subjected to pain that it became a normal thing. He might've succeeded in damaging me, but what was he going to do with the monster that he created with his very own hands?
"If I cannot change the fucking system, I'm going to ruin it. Nobody cares for my fall anyway."
I took out a secret phone that Marco slipped under my pillow when no one was watching and texted Xander.
Me: Release them.
I leaned over the window, watching Antonio laughing over a phone call at the gazebo. My finger drummed on the window seal.
It was by fire that everything started, and it is by fire I would end everything.
I'd make sure he begs for hell after I was done with him.
"Somebody is fucked up," I said in a singsong. Using the three combinations of my fingers as a gun, I pointed at Antonio's head and released the trigger, "Poof!"