Help

Help
The house is as cold as ever. I go downstairs to get a glass of water.

Reaching the last step, I hear the voices of Henk and his friends. I try to walk quietly, but a floorboard creaks before I can get into the kitchen.

"Elena, darling, come here," Henk calls, and I hear his friends laughing.

I go to the living room and see two men in suits sitting on the sofa and Henk standing with a bottle of beer in his hand.

"Is that her?" one of the men asks with a malicious smile.

He is old, with dark blue eyes and white hair.

"She looks like them," says the other man, and I think he's referring to my parents.

"Come here, girl," the old man calls, but something inside me makes me take a step back instead of approaching.

"Elena, obey," Henk orders angrily.

I shake my head and walk away.

The slap that hits my face makes me fall to the ground, and I taste blood on my lips.

"You should have obeyed, little girl," says the old man, approaching me. He gently holds my chin and examines my bruised cheek.

I hear his laughter, and he turns to Henk with a smile.

"Is that all you know how to do?" the old man asks, and I begin to tremble on the floor. "Show me what you said you did to her. I'll tell you everything in detail."

Henk laughs, and then I'm dragged into the cellar. I scream and struggle, trying to break free from his grip.

"Please, father, please," I beg, but he doesn't hear me.

In the cellar, he chains me to the wall and cuts my clothes, leaving me only in my underwear.

The two men watch the entire torture.

"Please," I plead, my voice hoarse from screaming.

My stepfather approaches with a cigarette and smiles before extinguishing it on my sensitive skin, still sore from the beating I'd already received.



I wake up startled, my head heavy from crying so much.

A hand gently caresses my hair, and I realize my head is on the person's chest, not the pillow.

I quickly pull away and fall off the sofa.

I look to see who was caressing my head and see Vicente, who stares at me, searching for some emotion.

I look around and see Angelo and Giovanni playing video games on the television, and Dante and Bruno working at the table in the corner of the room.

It takes me a while to get my bearings, to understand that I'm home with my family.

"Calm down, Elena, you're home and safe," I repeat to myself with my eyes closed, opening and closing my hands.

I feel their gaze on me and can't help but feel uncomfortable.

"Breathe," Giovanni orders calmly.

I open my eyes and hadn't realized I was holding my breath. I obey the command and breathe calmly, trying to calm my heart which was beating uncontrollably.

"Do you know where you are?" Giovanni asks gently.

"At home, with my family, I'm safe," I reply between short breaths.

"That's right, bambina," Giovanni confirms.

I stay there for a few minutes to calm down and the boys move away, leaving only Giovanni with me to help me.

"I have a headache," I say, massaging my temple.

Bruno gets up from his chair and quickly leaves the room; minutes later, he returns with a pill and accompanied by Matteo and Vitorio.

I take the medicine and sit on the sofa, resting my head on Vitorio's shoulder while he sits beside me.

“What time is it?” I ask, not that I really want to know the time, but I need to ease the tension in the air.

“Three in the morning,” Giovanni replies, sitting down in the armchair facing the sofa. “Are you hungry?”

I shake my head negatively and receive attentive looks from Dante and Matteo.

“No, brother, I’m not hungry,” I say, looking at the two of them. “Why are you still awake?”

“Because we didn’t want to leave you alone,” Dante replies, approaching.

He kneels in front of me and takes my hands in his.

“Elena, do you want to talk about what happened?” he asks calmly.

I look at Dante and then at the others.

“But not much happened, brother,” I say coldly. “Silas was already dead once, and it costs me nothing to bury him in my mind again.” This lie is what I’ve been repeating in my mind since I discovered the truth. It shouldn't be so hard to forget someone who's already died once.

I see Giovanni and Vicente exchange a worried look; they even nod to each other, but they don't say anything.

"I'm going to my room," I say, feeling tired. "I need to shower and change."

Neither of them stops me from getting up, but as I leave, Matteo speaks.

"Don't keep everything to yourself, sister." His voice may seem calm, but I can perceive the tone of concern.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine soon," I say with a weak smile and leave the room.

I go up to my room and lock myself in the bathroom as soon as I enter.

I feel the anxiety starting to consume me; I lied to my brothers and I know they noticed.

I don't want to have to talk to them about it, since I've always managed to deal with my problems alone, and now is no exception.

I look at my face in the mirror and realize my eyes are swollen from crying, my face is pale, and my hair looks like a bird's nest.

I take a deep breath and splash water on my face to try and calm myself down when my hands start to tremble.

All I needed right now was my joints; I needed to relax.

I even think about asking Lorenzo, but I know the answer would be no, and possibly a scolding.

I close my eyes and slide down the wall, putting my head between my legs when I start to hyperventilate.

I feel like all the problems of the last few weeks have decided to weigh on my shoulders today. All the feelings I swept under the rug are suffocating me now.

I say I'm going to calm down however I can.

I pick up my blade and sit back down on the floor. It will only be a few cuts, just to calm myself down.

I press the cold blade against my arm forcefully.

A cut for my shitty life.
A cut for the monsters who created me.
A cut for the rape I suffered.
A cut for Silas. A cut for being weak.
A cut for not being able to trust my family.
A cut for Edgar.
A cut for not having the strength to ask for help.

I make four cuts on each arm, each one deeper than the last.

When I finish, I'm sitting in a pool of my own blood dripping from the cuts, which begin to ache.

The pain replaces the anxiety and silences the thoughts, and the punishment I inflict on myself lessens the guilt for the situations that happened to me because I was too weak.

I watch the blood dripping from my cuts and begin to worry when I feel dizzy.

I try to get up to clean up the mess I made, but I feel dizzy from the blood loss.

I take off my shirt and press it against one of the cuts that... are dripping blood. I take a deep breath and wait a few minutes before taking my shirt off again to see if the bleeding has stopped.

I panic when my vision starts to darken. I take my cell phone out of my pocket and open my contact list. I call the first name on the list. Angelo's voice is almost like a balm.

"Bambina, what can I do for you?" he asks, in a sleepy tone.

"I-I didn't mean to wake you," my voice comes out weakly.

"What happened, Elena?" his voice is now more urgent, and I hear sounds of him moving and someone talking nearby.

"I need Matteo, fratello," I say weakly, and close my eyes.

I hear Angelo's voice calling me from a distance, but I don't have the strength to answer.

I open my eyes and realize someone is trying to open the door.

"Elena, unlock the door, sorellina," Dante's voice is urgent.

I try to move, but my body is heavy and I'm tired.

I have a lapse of time, because when I open my eyes again, I see Matteo kneeling in front of me. He examines my eyes and presses my shirt against the wounds on my arm.

“What did you do, sorellina?” he asks, and his tone makes me cry.

I see hurt and worry in his eyes.

“I just wanted to ease my anxiety,” I say softly, and I feel my body shutting down.

“Hey, stay awake,” Matteo pleads, picking me up.

“I’m sorry, brother, I’m a coward,” I whisper, and I enter the darkness.