Painful memories
I tense at Vitório's words.
Edgar's name makes me nauseous, as do Henk and Eloisa's.
"There's nothing to tell," I say nervously, my hands shaking.
"Bambina, we know this isn't an easy subject," Giorgio says softly.
I shake my head, unmoved by the sweet words.
"Get out, I don't want to talk about it," I say weakly.
The boys stare at me, but don't move.
I feel my breath quicken, and for a moment, I'm in that room, my arms and legs aching.
"Elena, he hasn't been cooperating with the interrogation; he keeps bragging about what he did to you in that room," Vitório insists. "Then tell us, so we can break his resistance."
Tears sting my eyes.
"Get out," I say softly, angrily. "GET OUT!"
I scream and walk to the door, opening it so they'll leave me alone. I don't look at either of their faces, wiping away the angry tears that stream from my eyes.
Before closing the door, I lift my face and glare at them.
"If you can't get anything out of him without me, you might as well kill him," I say angrily, slamming the door.
I slide down the wall with tears streaming from my eyes. I grab my hair and pull it hard.
"Let's have some fun, doll."
Edgar's voice fills my mind, and I have to run to the bathroom.
I empty my stomach at the images that come to mind.
As I stand up to rinse my mouth, I glance at the small case where I keep the razors I used to ease my anxiety.
My hands tremble as I open them and pull out a razor. I know I promised Silas, I know he asked me not to do this.
I rest the razor on my wrist, press it, and make a cut.
Each time my skin breaks, I regain a bit of control over myself, calming my anxiety and my mind.
When I'm done, I have three new wounds.
I clean my arm and bandage it a little so I don't get it on my clothes.
I decide to go to bed early, since I won't be having dinner tonight.
I grab my phone and text Silas, who calls me back.
"What's wrong, Elena?" he asks as soon as I answer.
"I need to see you, I need to talk," I say, unable to contain my choked voice.
"Meet me at the park tomorrow," he replies calmly.
"Silas, I'm tired," I say, feeling small.
"I promise we'll talk tomorrow. I have something to tell you," he says cheerfully.
I smile, because he had a habit of doing that, making up silly stories.
"See you tomorrow then," I say, a little more clearly. "Thank you for everything."
"No need to thank me," he replies and hangs up the phone.
With a smile, I turn off the lamp and cover myself up to sleep.
"I'm awake, doll." Edgar's voice startles me.
I look around and see that I'm tied to the metal chair, the tool table, and Edgar standing in front of me.
I shake the restraints violently.
This can't be happening, it can't!
"You can start talking whenever you want," Edgar says with that disgusting smile.
"I won't say anything, you bastard," I yell at him.
Edgar laughs and grabs the small knife. As he starts cutting, I scream in despair.
The blade drips red, and I sob on the verge of unconsciousness.
"Don't sleep, doll, we still have a lot to do," he says, grabbing the blowtorch.
My throat is sore from screaming, my ankles and wrists are burned and aching. Edgar gently cups my face, brushing the hair away from my face and wiping the sweat from my forehead.
"Tell me," he asks tenderly.
I smile, and he brings his hand to my lips. I open my mouth and bite my thumb with all my might.
A slap hits my face, and I know I'll have a black eye if I survive.
I laugh aesthetically and see the hatred in Edgar's eyes.
"I'll make sure you never forget me," Edgar says.
I watch him grab a pair of scissors and untie my wrists, replacing the ropes with handcuffs.
My wrists are tied to a chain on the ceiling, my body suspended, and I have to stretch my feet to reach the floor.
Edgar lifts my shirt, and I see his surprised look at my scars.
"Have you ever been broken, doll?" he asks with a gleam in his eye. "I'll have to do worse than that to break you."
I scream at the top of my lungs as he gets to work. "ELENA," Sandro's voice calls to me, and I think I'm delirious.
"ELENA WAKES UP," I hear the words, and the world around me begins to crumble.
I feel like someone has reached into my heart and squeezed it tightly.
My mouth is dry, and I taste bile on my tongue.
"Sorella," Matteo's voice reaches me with his touch.
I scream in fear, my skin still burning, and I feel trapped in that chair.
"Calm down, it's okay," Lorenzo says, taking a step forward.
Everyone is here, and I blame myself for waking everyone up.
"I-I," I open my mouth to say something, but I have nothing to say.
Nicco sits down beside me and slowly takes my hand.
"Tell me, you were screaming in despair, saying his name," Nicco says, and tears stream down my eyes.
"This will only make it more real," I say, anguished.
"Keeping this to yourself makes him win, worsens the trauma he caused you, more torture," Nicco says softly.
"I can't speak," I say with a lump in my throat. Nicco hugs me as tears stream from my eyes, the others leave silently, accepting that I need to rest.
Guilt eats away at me, along with the fear of reliving that day.
"Stay with me, please," my voice is low.
"Of course, Sorellina," Nicco says, and he lies down with me on the bed, stroking my head.
"Sorry," I say before falling into a dreamless sleep.