gone mad?

Rina Zante

“What are you doing here?”

He screeched to a halt and formed that look I very much hated. Bewilderment with a tinge of anger tensed his brows. But for a moment. He was able to break free from the spell and speak. His voice, everything I didn’t want to hear again.

“We need to talk.”

I waited to hear him say the stuff that’d make me lose it and deal heartlessly with him. His silence, however, did the trick: throwing me off my beam of patience.

I started out, choosing not to flare up yet till he gave a more valid reason to. And he did just that when his suffocating form blocked my path.

I pulled away, folding up as though being near him would leave a dent on my skin.

“Really? This is what it is now? Playing hard to get?”

I raised my gaze to him. Hatred and fury dripped from it.

“You don’t have to look at me that way. I didn’t kill anyone,” he said; but rather than wipe the glare, I kept looking at him.

He cussed, raking his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up. “Look, I get you’re mad. I was a total jerk for acting that way, but do you blame me? How else would you have had me react?”

Silence sneaked in while I fought to stop tears from falling.

He tried bringing his irritating self close: I pulled back, speaking this time around. “Don’t come close.” I had finally gotten hold of my life. He wasn’t going to destroy it again.

Gathering myself, I reached for the door, at the same time hoping that Vincenzo didn’t block my path. Good for him, he didn’t, as that would have brought out the lunatic in me.

I got to the door and gripped the handle. Stilling for some time to take a gulp of bravery and prove to the asshole that I was my very own person.

Of course, his form was something I couldn’t afford to set my eyes on. However, like the jerk he was, he forced me to look at him by not walking away.

I’d do him the honours and spell it out for him since he was too dumb to get the hint, “The door is open. You can leave.”

His eyes danced about, as though searching for a sign that suggested I bluffed. When he found none of such signs, he scoffed, “You are asking me out of your room?” A moment of silence. “You must be joking.”

Grinding my teeth, I turned around to be the mature person and leave. I barely crossed the doorstep before he caught me, drawing me in despite the fight I put up. Did I have to say how annoyed that got me? Having my efforts trashed.

“What the fuck is your problem?” His breath burned my face. “Why are you making things difficult for me?” I ignored him and continued struggling to be free. “Rina!”

“What!” I yelled at him. “What else do you want!”

Why were we in this room? It just wasn’t cool at all because I badly wanted to let my feelings out. Bark all I wanted since Vincenzo still hadn’t figured I hated him much more than he knew.

“You made it clear from day one that I disgust you, so why are you here? You’ve always wished I didn’t work here, acting like I hurt you so bad, or worse, killed you in your former life, why then do you keep pestering me? I’m so done putting up with everything. I’m done and there is nothing you can do to stop me this time.”

He stared at me. Body rigid. Eyes unreadable. If I didn’t know better I’d have thought he’d become a statue.

I wasn’t going to stay here while he gaped. No. And so, I wriggled while his hands remained fastened on me.

“I don’t deny the fact I was an asshole,” he said, cutting short my movements. “I don’t need to be told we started off on a bad note. That’s why I’ve got a brain.” For the next few seconds, my ragged breathing was the only sound heard. “But everything I’ve been lately, this new version of me should tell you I’m regretful. I was completely out of it…” He chuckled dryly, as though hurt. Still, that didn’t make me look at him.

“I was a fucking idiot to have seen you as less of what you mean to me now.” Quiet for a while, he forced a breath out and took his hands off me. He turned the other way and struck a pose that reminded me of the night I’d slept with him: hands on his waist. And just like that, a feeling of foreboding circled me round.

“I don’t know how to say this,” he said. All went silent after that and as time progressed, I wondered why I was still here, listening to his hogwash.

I faced the door, about to leave when he broke the silence in a jarring manner, “I love you.”

I stopped. All expressions gone.

He let out that tiny laugh again. “I still can’t wrap my head around that. It beats me; but that’s just what it is. And I can’t say I hate it. Not one bit.” His presence neared and I backed away, turning around to face him, shock, the only thing on my face.

“I love you, Rina. I will never stop—”

“No, you don’t. You don’t know what love is.” I couldn’t tell where the tears came from. That was the least of my worries though. “You have absolutely no idea of what it means.”

“And who are you to decide that?”

“Someone who has had a taste of the feeling.” His face paled. He was hurt that I had spoken the truth. “The much I’ve gotten from my family makes me know that sex doesn’t equate to love. You can’t go about using that word just to get me to sleep with you again.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he growled.

“Oh yes, I do. Just like you, I’ve got a brain and it does a good job reminding me of the time you came pleading that I give you a chance. And is it a coincidence you look just as sorry as you were then?” He frown deepened, gladdening my heart in a weird way.

I took a deep breath and blinked away the remnant of tears. And by doing so, I happened upon the letter I’d left lying on Mamma’s bed. Finally and truly this time, all this would be over.

I cast one more look at Vincenzo, catching the unknown glint in his eyes. Even with the frown that could imprint a permanent notch in between his brows.

Hardly had I started off when he advanced towards me. I acted fast. Hurrying towards the door, but a half of me—the over-thinking, easily-frightened half—was proved right. He would seize me.

He did seize me.

He spun around in a strikingly similar manner my ex-friend had done, and carried out the same exact act of violation. Smashing his cursed lips on me. Initially bemused, I returned to full awareness and began pushing away from him. I pounded at his chest but he remained head-strong.

“You can hit me all you want.” He briefly broke the kiss before going in again. Once more, just like Alessio. “Hit me, kick me, reject me a thousand times.” Another achy drag on my lips. “But that won’t change how I feel about you.”

All the triggering memories flooded in like a tsunami. Made worse by his deep inhale. Alarmed that he could do much worse than mere kissing, I screamed the much I could, hurting my cheeks and making him act wilder.

“What in the world…”Vincenzo’s lips tore away from mine. “…is going on here?”

I turned sharply to the direction of the voice and met the one person that shouldn’t be here. Mamma’s entire body, safe her eyes, went still. Her eyes pinned at us, wide like it’d seen a ghost.

Harsh reality dawned on me. Mamma had seen me kiss Vincenzo. It didn’t matter that he had stolen it. She’d think I was involved in it.

I inched to speak, make her understand I had been anything but interested in the kiss—yet, try as I might, I couldn't bring myself to speak.

The atmosphere was tense, worsened by the fact that time appeared to have lost its existence. Mamma gaped like a statue. I gaped at her like a statue. And Vincenzo very likely shared in the state of lifelessness.

Finally, the spell was broken as Vincenzo moved away from me towards the door which amazingly, Mammà still was at—now having her gaze as a weapon of mass destruction.

He got to where Mammà was; I gulped, flicking my eyes between the both of them. What would Mammà do? What would Vincenzo do when Mammà did what she'd do? These thoughts and more sent my heart thrumming. I was so agitated I couldn't think straight nor come up with a plan that'd prevent the possible outburst.

Then, as luck may have it, Mammà stepped away from the door—giving just enough distance for Vincenzo to pass. But he didn't. He remained where he was and I sent a glare birthed from urgency and irritation at him. However, his action suggested he was shocked that Mammà had laid low.

Mammà's glower followed him out before it was fixed at me. Pushing me to talk.

“It’s not what you think. I fought him. I swear I fought him; but he wouldn’t let go.” She plucked her focus from me and headed to her bed. My throat dried up. I stood with a slight tremor.

“Is there something you are not telling me?”

I turned to see her seated on the bed, with her eyes fixed on the letter.

“I want to believe I asked a question.”

“What?”

She glanced at me. Her eyes, unlike the rest of her body, were yet to get the touch of life. That scared the shit out of me.

“You told me he molested you.”

I frowned, not liking the direction this was going.

“And here he was kissing you. Or rather, you kissing him."

My initial reaction was to stare at her before utter disappointment drove me to let out a strangled laugh.

“What am I to believe?” she asked, further shattering my heart.

“What are you to believe? How about the word of your daughter who hasn’t given you the reason to doubt her, like you always say. You know what?" I jutted my chin to the ceiling, a disappointed smile slightly pulling my lips. "I'm tired. Yes. I am so sick of proving my innocence to everyone.” Because it was of no use. Explaining was useless. Hadn't it been what I'd done, yet Vincenzo raped me? Hadn't the same thing happen with Sophia, Alessio, every single person in this cursed earth? "I'm tired of licking everyone's asses, tired of being Mary Sue, the perfect angel, goody two shoes. I'm so tired of it!"

“Don’t you raise your voice at me. Have you gone mad?"

“Doesn't it look like it?" My tone then changed from sarcastic to disappointed. "You actually believe I'll stoop so low to make out with a rapist? The guy that forced me into this condition? Or wait. You don't think he raped me."

That was all I needed to know I was alone.

I pinned my lips, making an attempt to smile through the heartache. A painful admission rang in my head. She had left me with no choice. "I shouldn't have thought about you at Baia della Canarie. I'd simply have gone through with my plan. If I had, I definitely wouldn't be where I am now. No forced pregnancy, no bleak future.”

I turned away from her tearful face and left. I didn’t know where would offer me some privacy to cry; but the painful thing was Mammà wouldn't be with me.

She'd hurt me.