We Were Villains

8

"Eavesdropping, little sister?" Luca came up behind me, smirking. He raised an eyebrow, hands on his hips. "Come on, let's get you to bed." He beckoned for me to follow him, and I did as he led me upstairs and away from our older brothers.

"Why are you up this late?" He asked the million dollar question.

I shrugged. "My legs hurt. From shopping."

He chuckled. "Next time won't be as bad," he assured, reaching the top of the stairs. He opened his arms for a hug, and I felt myself sinking into him, welcoming his embrace. "Goodnight, baby."

I scoffed, stepping on his foot. "I am not a baby. Stop calling me that," I said, but deep down, I actually enjoyed it. Luca grunted and held me at arm's length.

"You'll always be the baby of the family. " Go to bed," he ordered, gently pushing me toward my room.

"Goodnight, Luca," I said just before he went into his own room, shutting the door. Alone now, I went to my bedroom. I closed the door and locked it, turning to press my back into the door, my heart thumping in my chest.

I wanted my mom.

She would comfort me and tell me things would be okay. Apart from me feeling conflicted, I was angry at her. Angry because she never told me about my real father, never told me about my older brothers. She kept it all a secret while I was assaulted by her husband.

I felt sick to my stomach even thinking about it, but the thoughts of him were fleeting through my mind. I knew he couldn't control me anymore because he was dead, but he haunted me. He haunted me even though he was dead, pulling the invisible strings attached to my legs and arms as I slid down the door and crawled into a small ball, holding my hands over my head.

I couldn't help the sobs that escaped my lips. To not be overheard, I grasped my mouth tightly. I couldn't control them as they racketed my body. I was broken. I was broken, and I couldn't help but wonder how my brothers would see me if they knew the truth. I was embarrassed to tell them the truth, and so, I vowed, here and now, they wouldn't ever find out. How could I tell them? How would I even begin to say the words? I didn't want them to find out, I didn't want their pity, their comfort, their promises. I knew, from Angelo's gentleness, they would promise things they would never be able to keep. I couldn't have empty promises, I had no room for them.

And yet, all I felt was emptiness.

I knew what people meant when they said, "I feel empty." I felt like a shell of a person - like I'd outworn my body and a thread came loose. I felt like someone, him, pulled the thread to snap it off, but the fabric snagged, and now I'm rapidly deteriorating. I felt tired, slow, sad, and mad. And I didn't know how to stop myself from unravelling completely.

"Pick yourself up," my mom used to say. "Don't let them see your pain." And that's what I did. I go to bed, hiding underneath the sheets, weeping and completely alone.

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I woke the next morning, the sun streaming through the curtains. My cheeks were rough and tight from crying all night.

"Come in," I called, and my door opened, Angelo popping his head in.

"Good morning," he said, smiling. "Mattia is cooking downstairs. Pancakes if you want some."

I nodded. "I'll be downstairs in a few minutes."

"Okay. Don't be long, or else Luca will eat your pancakes too. The boy has a bottomless pit." I laughed and heaved the blanket to the side. Angelo left, disappearing down the hallway without another word.

I changed into a pair of black leggings and a burgundy sweatshirt with a daisy in the centre. Simple and comfy. I forced my hair up into a ponytail and stretched, my legs still sore.

Downstairs, Mattia stood at the stove, shirtless. Luca sat on one of the bar stools, texting. Angelo had yet to appear.

"Morning, bambina," Mattia said, flipping a pancake. "Do you want blueberries in your pancakes?" He flipped the pancake onto Luca's plate.

"Yes, thank you." I couldn't help but listen to my stomach growl as Mattia poured blueberries into the pancake mix. I hoped no one else heard, but by the chuckles from both my brothers - yeah, they heard my roaring stomach. I cleared my throat. "Sorry, I guess I'm a little hungry."

"What did you have yesterday to eat?" Mattia asked, glancing over at me.

"Angelo bought Chinese."

"Of course he did," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "I'm the only one that can cook without burning the house down."

"I'm going into the office today." I whipped my head around. Angelo stood behind me. He wore a crisp, black suit, though he struggled with his tie. I smirked, watching as he grumbled before he gave up entirely and threw it into the dining table.

"I've taught you over and over," Mattia scolded, flipping a pancake. "It's not hard, Angelo."

"It's fine. I look better without it," my oldest brother muttered and stalked toward Luca and I. He stopped between us. "Can I trust you two to be good while I'm out?

"Yes." I nodded, smiling as Mattia loaded my plate with pancakes.

"Nope." Luca earned a smack on the back of the head. "Hey man, don't mess my hair up."

"You mean your bed hair?" Angelo snickered, his eyes travelling to me. "Do whatever you want today, okay? Explore the house a bit if you want. Please let Mattia or Luca know if you want to go somewhere."

"Okay," I nodded, wondering when my older brother would return. Half an hour later, I toured the house. I didn't know what to do. I fell into a pit of loneliness and sorrow and couldn't climb out.

I wandered around the house - viewing the many rooms on the main floor. At the end of the main hallway, there was a patio door leading to a massive garden. It was beautiful, with large hedges and sculptures of various animals and birds. For a moment, I had to squint my eyes, and the world blurred into colour.

There were daisies blooming, their smell infiltrating my nose, reminding me of my mother's garden. There were watering cans on one of the stone benches, a sprinkler gently misting the blooming red roses. I felt at most ease out here, even though the sun is hidden behind the gloomy grey skies. Out of nowhere else in the ginormous house, I feel at peace in the garden.

All of a sudden, something snapped behind me. A twig, I think as I spun around. "Hey, who the hell are you?" A rough, raspy voice echoed over the garden.

My eyes widened, and a man stood before me with a gun aimed at my head.

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Thank you for reading; please vote and comment; much love - Charlie 🧡