In Search Of...
folder
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,135
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,135
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The First Cut
I stood over the sink in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. Rocco's death had worn heavy on me, and it was only getting harder to cope. He'd been gone for two months, and my father had become much more brutal towards me. He began to beat me again, and the rapes were getting much worse. Normally when he was almost done, he would keep it inside of me and jerk around. Lately, he'd started to humiliate me. He would pull out and spray my face, or my stomach, or my chest. He would force me to open my eyes and stare at him and he would ask me where Rocco was and why he wasn't coming to help me. Once, he even bent me over in front of him and penetrated me anally.
I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out. I didn't have anywhere else to go. Anywhere I went, he would find me, bring me back, and things would only get worse"¦But I had a solution.
I knew the Bible said that suicide was wrong, but I also knew that God protects children and cools, and so far He hadn't held up His end of the bargain. So I decided to take matters into my own hands when I pulled the razor out of the medicine cabinet.
I ran my finger over the blade and thought of Rocco. He would be so disappointed if he even knew I was thinking about it. Nicola"¦Well, Nicola would be taken care of as soon as the police found the note. I left a note for her to give Mrs. Ramazzotti in the morning if everything went off as planned. It explained everything that happened the night that Rocco was killed.
I placed the blade against my wrist and stared at myself in the mirror. The pain was unimaginable as I dragged the razor across my pale wrist. I let out a silent scream and dropped it into the sink. I would not chicken out this time. I'd never gotten this far before, and I would not stop this time. I would go through with it, and everybody would finally know the truth about what happened to my brother"”to my family.
Two drops of blood hit the sink as I picked up the razor and held it between my forefinger and thumb. I placed it back onto my wrist, underneath the small cut I'd already made. I slowly applied pressure and bit down on my lip to displace the pain as I dragged the sharp object across my flesh. It didn't even compare to the pain I had endured the last seven years of my life.
I watched the blood pour out of my wrist and into the sink. After a minute or so, I started to feel light-headed, and I decided to sit down. I'd run a bath for myself already, and I stepped fully clothed into the tub and stood against the wall before sliding down to sit.
* * * * * * * *
When I woke up, all that I saw was a bright light. I could feel the presence of people all around me, but I couldn't see any of them. I couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but I knew that they were talking about me. Then, I heard a familiar voice calling to me over all of the others.
"Ambra! Ambra!" I recognized the voice as my mother's. I knew I was dead. "Not now, Honey! You'll be with me again, but not now"¦"
When!? When will I be with you again!?
"Amby!"
Rocco?!
"Don't do it, Amby. You have to be strong!"
I can't! I can't do this anymore! I need you!
"You'll be with me again, Amby"¦Just not now."
When!? When will I be with you again!?
"She's coming back!" said the voice of one of the doctors standing around the operating table I woke to find myself lying on.
When? When?
* * * * * * * *
When I awoke once more, I was in my hospital room. I looked to my left and saw my father. I sat up quickly and stared at him in terror as he stood and made his way to my bedside.
"You just had to draw attention to yourself, didn't you?" he asked. He grabbed my bandaged arm and unraveled the gauze. I looked down at my stitched wrist. "What the hell is wrong with you, huh!?" I didn't answer; I only stared at my wound. "Answer me! I got something in store for you, Bitch. Just wait'll you get out of here. I'm gonna put you right back in here!"
He pulled his fist back to hit me, and I tensed up, bracing myself for the blow. He held both of my arms in his hands. The door opened just as he lowered his fist. Upon sight of the woman, he opened his hand and placed it only lightly upon my head, gently stroking my hair. I wanted to vomit.
"Is everything all right in here?" she asked. She held a clipboard to her chest, but she was not a nurse.
"Yes," my father answered in his most genteel voice. "I was just telling Ambra what a scare she gave me. Her sister and I were so worried about her. We just lost her brother a few months ago, and we wouldn't be able to deal with losing our angel, too." He looked down and me and gave me the warmest smile I'd ever seen from him. How utterly fake it was. She fell for it.
"Mr. Pastore," she started as she neared my bed, "in cases such as Ambra's, it's this hospital's policy to recommend counseling of some sort." Arrigo's face hardened, and he turned to her. "Since she's a minor, we're going to need your permission to offer her"¦"
"Absolutely not!" he boomed. "My daughter does not need to see a therapist!"
"Your daughter," she started, "tried to kill herself tonight, and you're telling me that she doesn't need help?"
"She's fine, okay? She just wanted attention, and she got it!"
"Mr. Pastore! Your daughter is thirteen years old, and she's very sick, and we feel it would be in her best interest to"¦" He cut her off.
"My daughter is not seeing a shrink! There is nothing wrong with her!"
The woman stared at him, then turned to me. We locked eyes for a moment. She knew that he was hiding something, and she wanted me to disagree with him, but I couldn't. I hadn't even been able to talk to Rocco about what had been happening to me, so there was no way I would tell a complete stranger.
"Ambra," she started, "would you like to"¦"
"No!" was my father's answer.
"I did not ask you, Mrs. Pastore," she fired back. "I asked Ambra."
"No, thank you," I replied meekly. "My father's right. It was only a ploy for attention."
She sighed heavily. She knew I was lying, but she also knew that there was nothing she could do for me. If I would not comply, she couldn't go around what my father decided. "Well, if you change your mind, call this number." She placed a card at the foot of my bed. "And here's the number for a suicide hotline," she glared at my father, "in case you ever feel 'starved' for attention again." She placed a brochure on top of the card. "Have a nice night. Try to get some rest." With that, she turned and left.
My father walked to the foot of my bed. He picked up the both the brochure and the car as he stared at me. His jaw was set, and his expression was stone as he ripped them up.
"If you ever tell anyone," he started, "I'll kill you myself. Do you understand me?" I nodded. "Say it."
"Yes, sir," I answered quietly.
"Sleep good tonight," he told me as he threw the papers in the trash can and made his way towards the door, "it'll be the last time."
When the door closed behind him, I stared around the room.
When, damn it!? When!?
--------------------------------------
Someone please review...I\'m dyin\' over here. Even a \"Hey, your story sucks ass\" would do...Anyone...Please! :)
I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out. I didn't have anywhere else to go. Anywhere I went, he would find me, bring me back, and things would only get worse"¦But I had a solution.
I knew the Bible said that suicide was wrong, but I also knew that God protects children and cools, and so far He hadn't held up His end of the bargain. So I decided to take matters into my own hands when I pulled the razor out of the medicine cabinet.
I ran my finger over the blade and thought of Rocco. He would be so disappointed if he even knew I was thinking about it. Nicola"¦Well, Nicola would be taken care of as soon as the police found the note. I left a note for her to give Mrs. Ramazzotti in the morning if everything went off as planned. It explained everything that happened the night that Rocco was killed.
I placed the blade against my wrist and stared at myself in the mirror. The pain was unimaginable as I dragged the razor across my pale wrist. I let out a silent scream and dropped it into the sink. I would not chicken out this time. I'd never gotten this far before, and I would not stop this time. I would go through with it, and everybody would finally know the truth about what happened to my brother"”to my family.
Two drops of blood hit the sink as I picked up the razor and held it between my forefinger and thumb. I placed it back onto my wrist, underneath the small cut I'd already made. I slowly applied pressure and bit down on my lip to displace the pain as I dragged the sharp object across my flesh. It didn't even compare to the pain I had endured the last seven years of my life.
I watched the blood pour out of my wrist and into the sink. After a minute or so, I started to feel light-headed, and I decided to sit down. I'd run a bath for myself already, and I stepped fully clothed into the tub and stood against the wall before sliding down to sit.
When I woke up, all that I saw was a bright light. I could feel the presence of people all around me, but I couldn't see any of them. I couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but I knew that they were talking about me. Then, I heard a familiar voice calling to me over all of the others.
"Ambra! Ambra!" I recognized the voice as my mother's. I knew I was dead. "Not now, Honey! You'll be with me again, but not now"¦"
When!? When will I be with you again!?
"Amby!"
Rocco?!
"Don't do it, Amby. You have to be strong!"
I can't! I can't do this anymore! I need you!
"You'll be with me again, Amby"¦Just not now."
When!? When will I be with you again!?
"She's coming back!" said the voice of one of the doctors standing around the operating table I woke to find myself lying on.
When? When?
When I awoke once more, I was in my hospital room. I looked to my left and saw my father. I sat up quickly and stared at him in terror as he stood and made his way to my bedside.
"You just had to draw attention to yourself, didn't you?" he asked. He grabbed my bandaged arm and unraveled the gauze. I looked down at my stitched wrist. "What the hell is wrong with you, huh!?" I didn't answer; I only stared at my wound. "Answer me! I got something in store for you, Bitch. Just wait'll you get out of here. I'm gonna put you right back in here!"
He pulled his fist back to hit me, and I tensed up, bracing myself for the blow. He held both of my arms in his hands. The door opened just as he lowered his fist. Upon sight of the woman, he opened his hand and placed it only lightly upon my head, gently stroking my hair. I wanted to vomit.
"Is everything all right in here?" she asked. She held a clipboard to her chest, but she was not a nurse.
"Yes," my father answered in his most genteel voice. "I was just telling Ambra what a scare she gave me. Her sister and I were so worried about her. We just lost her brother a few months ago, and we wouldn't be able to deal with losing our angel, too." He looked down and me and gave me the warmest smile I'd ever seen from him. How utterly fake it was. She fell for it.
"Mr. Pastore," she started as she neared my bed, "in cases such as Ambra's, it's this hospital's policy to recommend counseling of some sort." Arrigo's face hardened, and he turned to her. "Since she's a minor, we're going to need your permission to offer her"¦"
"Absolutely not!" he boomed. "My daughter does not need to see a therapist!"
"Your daughter," she started, "tried to kill herself tonight, and you're telling me that she doesn't need help?"
"She's fine, okay? She just wanted attention, and she got it!"
"Mr. Pastore! Your daughter is thirteen years old, and she's very sick, and we feel it would be in her best interest to"¦" He cut her off.
"My daughter is not seeing a shrink! There is nothing wrong with her!"
The woman stared at him, then turned to me. We locked eyes for a moment. She knew that he was hiding something, and she wanted me to disagree with him, but I couldn't. I hadn't even been able to talk to Rocco about what had been happening to me, so there was no way I would tell a complete stranger.
"Ambra," she started, "would you like to"¦"
"No!" was my father's answer.
"I did not ask you, Mrs. Pastore," she fired back. "I asked Ambra."
"No, thank you," I replied meekly. "My father's right. It was only a ploy for attention."
She sighed heavily. She knew I was lying, but she also knew that there was nothing she could do for me. If I would not comply, she couldn't go around what my father decided. "Well, if you change your mind, call this number." She placed a card at the foot of my bed. "And here's the number for a suicide hotline," she glared at my father, "in case you ever feel 'starved' for attention again." She placed a brochure on top of the card. "Have a nice night. Try to get some rest." With that, she turned and left.
My father walked to the foot of my bed. He picked up the both the brochure and the car as he stared at me. His jaw was set, and his expression was stone as he ripped them up.
"If you ever tell anyone," he started, "I'll kill you myself. Do you understand me?" I nodded. "Say it."
"Yes, sir," I answered quietly.
"Sleep good tonight," he told me as he threw the papers in the trash can and made his way towards the door, "it'll be the last time."
When the door closed behind him, I stared around the room.
When, damn it!? When!?
--------------------------------------
Someone please review...I\'m dyin\' over here. Even a \"Hey, your story sucks ass\" would do...Anyone...Please! :)