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Rushing into the living room, I wince when he finds me, his laughter reverberating through the space. “Ah, here you are.” He starts firing bullets at me as I evade them, jumping from side to side as he enjoys this.
He never shoots me, oh no. That would mean I’d need medical assistance and the possibility of him going to jail.
“Dance, Octavius. Dance to my tune, you little piece of shit.” He continues to fire the bullets one after another until I catch a nearby vase and haul it at him, his gun dropping on the floor, which gives me an opening to run, and I do as he yells, “Come here!”
My breathing speeds up, my body already tensing in the anticipation of the pain because there is no escape from this nightmare as all the doors are locked, and even if they weren’t…the guards or staff aren’t allowed to let me outside.
I can roam around the mansion for hours and still end up in his clutches.
I take a swift turn to the right, ending up in the dining room, needing to snatch a knife or something when my gasp rings in the air as he wraps his leather belt around my throat, making me tumble to the floor while he cuts off my oxygen supply. “You think you’re so clever, huh?” His heavy breath tickles my ear as I try to snatch the belt, my nails digging into the leather while he cackles, tightening his hold, and air sticks in my throat. “How I wish I could just kill you so you wouldn’t go around looking so much like him. I hate your face the most. Spitting image of your father.” More tightness, my head becomes dizzy while black dots start to appear, and my hands drop as my strength slowly leaves me, only to gulp for breath when he pushes me away, my head hitting the table. “I hate nothing more in this world than your face, Octavius.” Lifting his hand, he starts delivering blow after blow, hitting me with the belt buckle as I crawl away, although it’s useless.
He needs to get his fill in order to fall asleep and let me lick my wounds.
Biting on my lower lip, I taste blood while he hits me, and I think about a green field somewhere far away, taking me away from experiencing this pain that has no reprieve.
Gathering all my strength in my fist, I get up and dart back into the hallway with him running after me and come to a halt when I see my mother standing near the stairway, sipping whiskey while she watches us.
No.
This gives Wayne a chance to grab me by the throat again, shaking me as he starts punching me in the stomach, demanding, “Fucking beg for mercy, Octavius. Beg me with his eyes!”
In true psycho fashion, every time he hurts me, he just pictures my father, and I hate it.
Hate it because my father knew his nephew would make my life a living hell and that Mom would marry him. That’s why he left the power of attorney over my shares to Uncle Lucian, so he could protect me. Mom would have signed everything over to Wayne.
If my father knew all this…why fucking allow for me to be born?
I’m paying the price without doing anything to deserve it, and that’s my tragedy.
I stay silent, coughing on blood, and spit at him, which earns me a punch to my face this time, the hurt prickling all over my skull. He throws me on the stairs, where my body bumps painfully into the marble. “You wanna be brave tonight? Let’s see how brave you are, then. Remember, it’s summer, Octavius. There is no school to rein in my cruelty.”
With this, he drags me upstairs to their room as Mom continues to drink, not doing anything to stop him.
He tortures me for the next three hours until finally, he falls on his bed from exhaustion while leaving me bleeding on the floor from all the wounds. My mother enters shortly, going to sleep as I crawl into the hallway where Antonio finds me.
He takes me to my room, and I lay there, never letting the tears fall. I muster up all the smiles for Estella the next morning so she won’t notice anything.
Although her assertive eyes don’t miss yet another scar.
But who cares what happens to my body?
My soul weeps every time from her indifference.
And try as I might…I cannot be indifferent to my mother’s inability to love me.
I always knew my family life was hell.
Turns out, though, all my pain wasn’t me hitting rock bottom.
Oh no.
The rock bottom part came later.
After all, some cruelty has no limits.
A fact Wayne happily proved to me.
Isla
