In Search Of...
folder
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,136
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angst › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
2,136
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 Final Straw
One month after my incident was Nicola's ninth birthday. Of course the miniature version of my late mother was showered with gifts and praises all day long. He'd even decided to take her out to dinner at the club, and I Was invited along only because of my sister's insistence that I attend. I'm sure it was a combination of her love for me and her fear for what I might do to myself if left alone that prompted her invitation. When we got back home, thought, we had our first chance to really talk since Rocco's death.
We were in Nicola's room. I was on the bed while she put away all the new things she'd gotten for her birthday. I stared into space while she talked. I never paid much attention to her anymore. The jealousy I harbored towards her was making me keep my distance from her. She was beautiful. She looked exactly like our mother, which always made me feel inferior to her. Even some of the older boys in the building were infatuated with her while I was just the troll in the clock tower. Most importantly, she still had her innocence. She was Daddy's Little Princess, and he treated her like it. She didn't have the knowledge of who our father was or what he was capable of.
At least, that's what I thought.
"Is it true, Ambra?" Nicola asked me as she closed her closet door. "Did he really kill Rocco?"
That question snapped me out of my daze. How did she know? I never told her. I knew he never told her. No one talked about it. How did she know? Then it hit me"¦
The letter!
I hadn't taken my suicide note out of her drawer when we came back from the hospital! I'd come into the apartment and ran into my room. I had forgotten all about the note!
"What makes you think that?" I asked.
"I read the letter," she said. I knew I couldn't lie to her. I took a deep breath.
"Yes," I told her, "but don't say anything to anybody. Especially not to Dad."
"Why?" she asked me. "Why would he do that to Rocco?"
"Because," I said. "Because Rocco was trying to protect us."
"Protect us from who?"
"From Dad. And he didn't want him to, so he killed him. He's a bad man, Nicola."
"He's never been bad to me."
"That's because he loves you. Dad does mean horrible things to me."
"Why do you let him?"
"So that he won't do them to you."
"Like when he lets Uncle Albert climb on top of you?"
I was shocked. "You've seen it?" She nodded. "Yes. Things like that."
"You have to tell somebody, Amby. Somebody needs to know what's going on!"
"I'm not going to tell anybody, and neither are you. Promise me."
"Promise," she mumbled.
"Promise, Nicola!" I yelled. She turned to me.
"I promise!"
The door opened, and Arrigo poked his head in.
"Nicola, bedtime. You have church in the morning." He set his eyes on me. "Ambra, I need to see you outside." He closed the door, and Nicola stared at me.
"Don't go, Sissy!" she pleaded as she ran to me and threw her arms around me. "Don't go out there!"
I pried her skinny arms off of me and looked into her eyes.
"Do not come out there," I ordered her. "No matter what you hear, do not leave this room. Do you understand me?" She nodded.
I stood up and walked out of her room to the living room where I found my father sitting on the couch. He stood when he saw me, and put the bottle of Jack in his hand down onto the table. He began walking towards me.
"What were you two talking about?" he asked.
I shook my head. And answered, "Nothing," as I backed away.
"Where do you think you're going?" He reached for me, and I jumped away.
"I'm not doing this anymore, Arrigo!" I yelled. "You can't do this to me anymore! I won't let you!"
"You don't' have a fucking choice! Now come here!"
He grabbed hold of my arm, and for the first time in a long time, I fought back. I kicked and screamed, and it only seemed to make him angrier. But the angrier he got, the harder I fought him. He knocked me to the floor and stood over me, holding his hand firmly over my mouth.
"If you scream again, Bitch," he started, "I'll fucking kill you. Do you understand me?"
I bit his hand and lifted my knee into his crotch. While he was temporarily hurt, I pushed him off of me, but I knew I didn't have much time. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife out of the sink. I was terrified, but I wouldn't take this anymore. I couldn't take the physical abuse or the mental abuse. More importantly than that, I had to get revenge for Rocco.
I turned when I head him coming up behind me. He backed away from me with his hands in the air. He looked to the knife, then to me, then back to the knife again. The ball was finally in my court. I was finally in charge.
"What are you gonna do with that?" he asked.
"Shut up!" I yelled. I'd had enough. "Why?" I asked him. "Why did you do this to me?"
"You wanted it"¦"
"At twelve years old!? At twelve years old I wanted it!? You're my father!" He was silent as I backed him through the apartment. I saw him look towards his bedroom door. "If you even think about it, I have no problem stabbing you in the back, you son of a bitch."
"Such language towards your father." I tipped his stomach with the knife, and saw the fear on his face.
Finally he knew what it was like living in my shoes. Finally he knew how I had felt every second of every day of the last seven years of my life. Finally he would experience the pain he had put me through. I was in control. I wanted to ram the knife in his heart, but I couldn't. Even after all that he'd put me through, he was still my father.
"You won't do it," he said. "You're chicken shit. You don't have it in you. That's why you never told me to stop. That's why you never fought back. That's why you watched your brother die."
"Shut up! Shut up!"
I backed him up against the door and stared at him. How could he have done this? He was my flesh and blood. He was my father. He was supposed to love me and protect me from evil. He wasn't supposed to be the one I was worried about hurting me.
"Get out," I told him. "Get out right now, or I will drive this knife through your heart."
He stared at me for a moment before he put his hand on the knob and turned. I backed away long enough for him to leave the apartment. He turned his back to me, sure that I wouldn't stab him. He was right. I wouldn't. I would give him a chance to leave. Then, he said something that pushed me over the edge.
"That's why Rocco died," he started. "He was stupid enough to think that he could outsmart me. And you just watched him. You watched it happen. How do you feel knowing you're the reason your precious brother is dead? You stupid bitch"¦I'll be back, and when I come back, I'll drive that knife through your heart."
Every single shred of hatred I'd ever had for him in my body came flooding back to me all at once. Suddenly, I had no control over my actions. I saw red. I took a deep breath, but I couldn't calm down. This was the final straw. The nail in the coffin. This was the last evil word he would ever say to me. This was the last vile action he would ever take against me.
I ran towards him as fast as I could and pushed him to the railing of the stairs. Beneath us were eleven flights of stairs, with open space between. I could see to the bottom floor of the apartment building. I'd knocked the wind out of him. He was bent over the railing. I don't know where I got the strength, but I lifted his legs and pushed him over. He held on to the railing and looked up at me.
"Ambra"¦Ambra"¦Please," he begged. "Please don't do this to me. I'm your father. You can't do this to me. I'm your father, Ambra!"
I stared at him. The words sounded so familiar. I said them to him many times, and he never listened. Why should I? He wasn't my father, and he never had been. He didn't care about me, and I never wanted to sleep in fear again. I held on to his hands and pried them off of the railing. He didn't scream; he only stared at me as he hit the floor eleven stories below. I turned to walk back into the apartment.
Let someone else find him, I thought. Tonight, I will sleep in peace.
----------------------------End of Part One----------------------------
Lemme know what you think. More to come if you guys like it.
We were in Nicola's room. I was on the bed while she put away all the new things she'd gotten for her birthday. I stared into space while she talked. I never paid much attention to her anymore. The jealousy I harbored towards her was making me keep my distance from her. She was beautiful. She looked exactly like our mother, which always made me feel inferior to her. Even some of the older boys in the building were infatuated with her while I was just the troll in the clock tower. Most importantly, she still had her innocence. She was Daddy's Little Princess, and he treated her like it. She didn't have the knowledge of who our father was or what he was capable of.
At least, that's what I thought.
"Is it true, Ambra?" Nicola asked me as she closed her closet door. "Did he really kill Rocco?"
That question snapped me out of my daze. How did she know? I never told her. I knew he never told her. No one talked about it. How did she know? Then it hit me"¦
The letter!
I hadn't taken my suicide note out of her drawer when we came back from the hospital! I'd come into the apartment and ran into my room. I had forgotten all about the note!
"What makes you think that?" I asked.
"I read the letter," she said. I knew I couldn't lie to her. I took a deep breath.
"Yes," I told her, "but don't say anything to anybody. Especially not to Dad."
"Why?" she asked me. "Why would he do that to Rocco?"
"Because," I said. "Because Rocco was trying to protect us."
"Protect us from who?"
"From Dad. And he didn't want him to, so he killed him. He's a bad man, Nicola."
"He's never been bad to me."
"That's because he loves you. Dad does mean horrible things to me."
"Why do you let him?"
"So that he won't do them to you."
"Like when he lets Uncle Albert climb on top of you?"
I was shocked. "You've seen it?" She nodded. "Yes. Things like that."
"You have to tell somebody, Amby. Somebody needs to know what's going on!"
"I'm not going to tell anybody, and neither are you. Promise me."
"Promise," she mumbled.
"Promise, Nicola!" I yelled. She turned to me.
"I promise!"
The door opened, and Arrigo poked his head in.
"Nicola, bedtime. You have church in the morning." He set his eyes on me. "Ambra, I need to see you outside." He closed the door, and Nicola stared at me.
"Don't go, Sissy!" she pleaded as she ran to me and threw her arms around me. "Don't go out there!"
I pried her skinny arms off of me and looked into her eyes.
"Do not come out there," I ordered her. "No matter what you hear, do not leave this room. Do you understand me?" She nodded.
I stood up and walked out of her room to the living room where I found my father sitting on the couch. He stood when he saw me, and put the bottle of Jack in his hand down onto the table. He began walking towards me.
"What were you two talking about?" he asked.
I shook my head. And answered, "Nothing," as I backed away.
"Where do you think you're going?" He reached for me, and I jumped away.
"I'm not doing this anymore, Arrigo!" I yelled. "You can't do this to me anymore! I won't let you!"
"You don't' have a fucking choice! Now come here!"
He grabbed hold of my arm, and for the first time in a long time, I fought back. I kicked and screamed, and it only seemed to make him angrier. But the angrier he got, the harder I fought him. He knocked me to the floor and stood over me, holding his hand firmly over my mouth.
"If you scream again, Bitch," he started, "I'll fucking kill you. Do you understand me?"
I bit his hand and lifted my knee into his crotch. While he was temporarily hurt, I pushed him off of me, but I knew I didn't have much time. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife out of the sink. I was terrified, but I wouldn't take this anymore. I couldn't take the physical abuse or the mental abuse. More importantly than that, I had to get revenge for Rocco.
I turned when I head him coming up behind me. He backed away from me with his hands in the air. He looked to the knife, then to me, then back to the knife again. The ball was finally in my court. I was finally in charge.
"What are you gonna do with that?" he asked.
"Shut up!" I yelled. I'd had enough. "Why?" I asked him. "Why did you do this to me?"
"You wanted it"¦"
"At twelve years old!? At twelve years old I wanted it!? You're my father!" He was silent as I backed him through the apartment. I saw him look towards his bedroom door. "If you even think about it, I have no problem stabbing you in the back, you son of a bitch."
"Such language towards your father." I tipped his stomach with the knife, and saw the fear on his face.
Finally he knew what it was like living in my shoes. Finally he knew how I had felt every second of every day of the last seven years of my life. Finally he would experience the pain he had put me through. I was in control. I wanted to ram the knife in his heart, but I couldn't. Even after all that he'd put me through, he was still my father.
"You won't do it," he said. "You're chicken shit. You don't have it in you. That's why you never told me to stop. That's why you never fought back. That's why you watched your brother die."
"Shut up! Shut up!"
I backed him up against the door and stared at him. How could he have done this? He was my flesh and blood. He was my father. He was supposed to love me and protect me from evil. He wasn't supposed to be the one I was worried about hurting me.
"Get out," I told him. "Get out right now, or I will drive this knife through your heart."
He stared at me for a moment before he put his hand on the knob and turned. I backed away long enough for him to leave the apartment. He turned his back to me, sure that I wouldn't stab him. He was right. I wouldn't. I would give him a chance to leave. Then, he said something that pushed me over the edge.
"That's why Rocco died," he started. "He was stupid enough to think that he could outsmart me. And you just watched him. You watched it happen. How do you feel knowing you're the reason your precious brother is dead? You stupid bitch"¦I'll be back, and when I come back, I'll drive that knife through your heart."
Every single shred of hatred I'd ever had for him in my body came flooding back to me all at once. Suddenly, I had no control over my actions. I saw red. I took a deep breath, but I couldn't calm down. This was the final straw. The nail in the coffin. This was the last evil word he would ever say to me. This was the last vile action he would ever take against me.
I ran towards him as fast as I could and pushed him to the railing of the stairs. Beneath us were eleven flights of stairs, with open space between. I could see to the bottom floor of the apartment building. I'd knocked the wind out of him. He was bent over the railing. I don't know where I got the strength, but I lifted his legs and pushed him over. He held on to the railing and looked up at me.
"Ambra"¦Ambra"¦Please," he begged. "Please don't do this to me. I'm your father. You can't do this to me. I'm your father, Ambra!"
I stared at him. The words sounded so familiar. I said them to him many times, and he never listened. Why should I? He wasn't my father, and he never had been. He didn't care about me, and I never wanted to sleep in fear again. I held on to his hands and pried them off of the railing. He didn't scream; he only stared at me as he hit the floor eleven stories below. I turned to walk back into the apartment.
Let someone else find him, I thought. Tonight, I will sleep in peace.
Lemme know what you think. More to come if you guys like it.