Never again
I wake up with a feeling of discomfort in my throat.
I hear Matteo's voice calling me and I struggle with all my might to open my eyes.
The brightness hurts my vision until I adjust, and I need to blink a few times to manage it.
"Elena, can you hear me?" Matteo asks calmly.
"Y-yes," I reply with a dry throat.
He examines my pupils before handing me a cup with a straw.
"What happened?" I ask, looking at him.
"Tell me first what you remember," he asks, and I realize he's testing my memory.
"I remember Luca yelling at me and then everything went dark," I say, still feeling the pain.
"You had a skull fracture, but only showed symptoms a few hours later," Matteo explains. "You almost died."
"I understand," I tell him as if it doesn't affect me. "How are the others?"
Matteo sighs and pulls a chair closer to me.
“Lorenzo had the surgery and is recovering well, but he remains in an induced coma so his body can recover,” Matteo explains. “Giorgio woke up from the coma two days ago and has already been discharged.”
I look at him, confused by the passage of time.
“How long have I been asleep?” I ask.
“Two weeks,” he replies with a sad look.
“That’s a long time,” I say, and then look around, seeing that the room is empty.
I notice flowers on the dresser; they look fresh and are beautiful.
“They come to visit you every day, every single day,” Matteo says, realizing I’m looking for our family. “They’re a little busy today; Dominic left a few hours ago.”
“That’s okay,” I say softly. “I know they have a lot to deal with.”
“They’ll come as soon as they can, I promise,” Matteo says, and I nod, not wanting to argue.
“When they come, tell them I want to talk to Grandpa alone, please,” I say, and Matteo frowns but agrees. “Thank you for everything, brother.”
“Rest, sorella,” he kisses my forehead before leaving the room.
Tears stream down my face as Matteo leaves the room. I feel my heart clench in my chest and I know that, deep down, everyone thinks like Luca.
The day passes and I spend my time on my phone, browsing social media, trying to convince myself that my family will come to see me; they’re just busy.
My phone vibrates and I quickly open my inbox, only to find an unknown number.
He sent me a picture of a single image. I open the photo and see Lorenzo, full of machines and unconscious.
I close the photo, my heart racing, and a message arrives immediately.
“It costs me nothing to end his life; maybe it’ll even be considered an eye for an eye,” the stranger writes.
“Who is this?” I ask, my fingers trembling.
“Have you already forgotten me, darling? You kill my brother, run away from me at school, and forget me so easily.” I realize it’s Chris who’s texting me.
“What do you want? Isn’t it enough that you made my life a living hell and almost killed my brother?” I write angrily.
I curse him loudly with several horrible names.
“Don’t be angry, darling,” he types before sending me another message.
“The problem, Elena, is that I almost killed your brothers,” Chris replies. “But we can make a deal.”
“I’m not making any deal with you,” I write quickly.
“Then I kill your dear brother and the rest of your family,” he writes, and my heart clenches.
“What the hell do you want?” I write angrily.
“I want you to be mine, a brother to someone else,” he answers my question.
“And what guarantees me that this is true? That you will stop the war?” I ask, exasperated.
“We may be monsters, but we never break our promises, Elena,” he writes. “You have twelve hours to give me an answer.”
After that last message, he blocks my number.
I stare at my phone, confused, assessing the situation.
What do I have to lose? My family already hates me anyway.
I'm trying to decide what to do when a knock sounds at the door and Grandpa enters alone, just as I asked.
He assesses me, and I see relief cross his face before it's replaced by his usual cold stare.
"Matteo said you wanted to talk to me," Grandpa says, pulling a chair closer to my bed.
"Do you remember the first agreement we made?" I ask, looking at my hands.
"Yes, I remember," his tone is professional, and I realize that perhaps this is his way of protecting himself from the pain.
"I want to leave," I say, feeling tears welling up in my eyes. "I want to go and never see any of you again."
The words hurt as they come out.
"Look at me and say it, look me in the eyes," Grandpa orders, and I raise my gaze.
I see pain and sorrow in his eyes; I think he feels he's failed, and that breaks me, but it's necessary.
“I want to leave,” I say, tears streaming down my face. “We have an agreement, and I want you to keep it.”
“Is that what you really want?” he asks, and the truth is, no.
“Yes,” I say with a painful sob, and he hugs me.
“I'll make sure you have a good life,” he whispers in my ear while I cry.
When I manage to stop crying, Grandpa starts making calls inside my room. He says he'll get me a passport and a new life where none of them can find me.
He knows I don't really want to leave, but he won't force me to stay.
“It's all settled; a car will come to pick you up tomorrow to take you to the airport,” Grandpa says, and I notice the sadness in his tone. “You're being brave, Elena.”
“Thank you for everything, Grandpa,” I say, and he squeezes my hand reassuringly.
“Everything will be alright, just trust us and it will be resolved tomorrow,” he says and kisses my forehead.
“I don’t want to have to say goodbye to the others,” I say because in between calls Grandpa told me that everyone was anxious to see me.
He told me they didn’t come sooner because they captured one of the men who made the bombs.
“They’ll be upset,” Grandpa says, but I shake my head.
“They’ll try to stop me from going,” I say seriously. “And the last memory I want to take away from them isn’t another argument.”
“The choice is yours, little one,” Grandpa says smiling. “I’ll let you rest, tomorrow will be a long day.”
He kisses my forehead before leaving the room.
I can hear a commotion outside, but no one comes in, and I have to give Grandpa credit for that.
Well, tomorrow is going to be a long day and probably my last.