Madre knows

Vincenzo Moreno

What held me in place was a thin piece of thread. Shattered beyond words, I struggled to accept what had happened. I still saw it as a dream. Perhaps, all of this year was a dream. I could wake up and realize there wasn't any Rina to begin with. That I was the good old guy who didn't take no for an answer.

I couldn't emphasize how desperate I was to be proved right. That I was in a terrible nightmare.

Rina had contributed to what could be my downfall. There was no point hanging onto the hope that Madre wouldn't believe her. The woman I knew, the woman who had chosen her friend over her son, wouldn't start now to be loyal.

I didn't know how I got to my room. One minute I stood gaping like an idiot in the hallway, and the next, I was shutting the door behind me.

I remained still at the door as the implication of what had happened sank in. That's right. A woman was my undoing after all, and that was totally and completely my fault.

Triggered, I charged forward, held onto a couch and tossed it to the other end of the lounge. Neither the noise nor the manner it'd crashed on the floor drove my anger away. Instead, my condition intensified.

I ripped the table from the floor and heard it shatter the next second. I kicked the other couch, knocked the throw pillows to the floor, connected my fist to the wall a million times and let out a cry, born from nothing other than hurt.

I rested my head against the wall, eyes closed as I accepted the bitter truth. She had betrayed me. My world had come apart. I was now a walking corpse.

The intercom rang; when it continued dinning, I moved from the wall into my room. The next thing I did greatly contrasted the ghostly environment surrounding me. Annoyed, I tore the intercom from the wall and smashed it hard on the floor.

I stared at the scraps, thinking nothing, feeling nothing. I'd been so battered my system had shut down.

Eventually, looking away from the broken pieces of the intercom, I plopped on the bed. Not even when her presence approached did I turn. I didn't move one bit, even when Madre's heavy steps sounded closer and closer.

The door squealed open, ushering them one after the other. Madre, Rina, and her devil of a mother. Before stepping in, Madre's pace had reduced. Not much of a wonder since my lounge was a rat house. Madre had gotten a first, if not her second shock of the night.

"I thought I said I wanted to see you," Madre said. She waited for a reply, but got none. “'You saw nothing. Absolutely nothing'. What's this about?"

That was the message I had passed across to Rina's mom. The message a part of me had warned wasn't a good idea and could come back to haunt me. The message I now think about and mentally slap a hand on my forehead.

"I am talking to you." Madre marched forward, tapping my shoulder when she got close and standing in front of me. "What is this?"

I didn't look, but I took cognisance of the yellow flashcard from the corner of my eye. My writing glared at me.

"Vincenzo," Madre called, in a voice that was both steady and shaky at the same time. And I knew it was over.

I rose from the bed and walked past Madre, grabbing my keys from the nightstand. Not knowing where I was going.

"Don't prove them right," Madre whispered.

Somehow, that was my cue to get the hell out of here. I turned, about to leave, but my gaze fell on Rina. I looked on, hoping that my eyes did the talking. She should see my disappointment, and the hatred that'd been reignited. She should know she'd brought out the worst in me. That, she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

Something touched my arm. I realized to my surprise and dismay that it was Madre.

"It's unbelievable, right? The guts they have. You know I'm hardly ever shaken, but this is one big shock to me, Vincenzo. I don't know, absolutely can't explain why they'd do this."

Madre continued to garble, saying all she'd do, the punishment that'd befall Rina and her mom; how Padre would intervene. For a moment, I inwardly sighed in relief that Madre hadn't bought the truth. But then, as I thought about how Rina would be thrown out of the picture, my throat squeezed up.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that everywhere was quiet. My focus went straight to Madre and I met a face full of sheer shock. Her eyes fixed on mine, hardly ever blinking.

"You're quiet." Her statement coupled with her solid gaze made me feel exposed. I started out, deeply uncomfortable; however, Madre held me back. Her fingernails sank into my arm as she arrived at the terrifying conclusion.

Just like that, she sent a resounding slap to my cheek. Rina and her mom gasped, but that didn't stop Madre. That didn't even make me flinch. I remained on that same spot when Madre's palm met my cheek again, setting up a fire.

"Fool!" She grabbed my shirt, folding it up, as she yelled out all manner of insults to my face. "Vincenzo! You have to kill me now. Oh, you've got to dig up a grave and dump me in it. What haven't I done for you? Tell me now. Slap it on my face so that I'll know why I deserve this. A son who brings nothing but shame. A son who hasn't given me one reason, one reason to be happy."

She wept. This was the first time I saw her do this. It was a shocker because Madre wasn't that type of woman, or so I had believed. And now, she was crying? Doing what she'd hit me countless times for? Had she suddenly become a weakling because I'd gotten someone pregnant?

It'd have been all fun and games. I'd have continued making fun of her, except that this same woman hadn't shed a single tear when she'd learnt her friend was truly and in fact a pedophile.

"Am I the only person to have a boy? And who do you think you are?" She stabbed her finger into my chest. "Moron. First it was Guilia. As if that wasn't enough, you bring in your sluts into my home. You drag my name into the mud and now this? Of all the persons to sleep with, of all the girls you could think about it was my maid. You either kill me or I kill you now."

She tried to strike again and I held her. Possessed by such rage I did nothing but glare. Madre's words were the reason. I'd been reminded about Guilia, everything about my family's betrayal—down to the very delicate detail in which Madre had the effrontery to demand that I get over the incident.

This wasn't how mothers were. Michele's, Luigi's, their moms were nothing like mine.

"Fuck you," I drew the words out to make sure she heard me clear. "You are wondering why I'm your son, well, guess what, I am too. I wonder why I had to be born in this family. Why should the curse fall on me? Why not someone else? Somebody different." I pushed her away, choosing not to be too rash and show her the full extent of my hatred.

But the woman refused to back down. Now, rather she stomped forward, wanting to slap me again.

I caught her hand.

"Lay your hands on me and I'll not hesitate to crush each one of your bones to pieces." I tossed her hand away, watching her gape at me. "You think what I live is life? All of this?" I threw my hands around and briefly took in my room.

"Think I'm ecstatic, over the moon for being Vincenzo Moreno? Is that what you believe? What do I have? Tell me exactly what good being me has brought. I…"

I cut the words. One, because a tear rested on my eyelid. And two, I'd never let Madre or anyone know I felt unloved.

I turned away from Madre and the other two by the other, to force back the tears. When I'd done that—and now more angry than ever because of the tearfulness, I faced Madre.

"You can shout all you want. Cry, yell, tear your hair off, I don't care. You should know the hatred I have for you burns bright each passing day. I've always wished you being my mother was a nightmare I'd slap myself out of."

Her frown grew. Nose flaring.

I wanted to say more things, more ego-battering things, but I ran the chance of being a nag. I believed the much I'd said had struck the appropriate nerve. I could say that because, man, was my chest light. All those grievances and hurt had been laid bare.

As I went for the door, Rina and her mom came to my focus. I'd have held my gaze much longer; apparently, this wasn't the best time. And as for her mom. She still had that look of disapproval plastered on her face. Since that was the case, I might as well dance to the tune she'd started.

"I don't know what she must have told you," I said to her, moving towards to Rina. "That I slept with her. That I'm responsible for the pregnancy. I don't know and I don't care."

I stopped some distance away from them, not at all annoyed when they backtracked. Then, I resumed walking

"Don't you dare come close to Rina," her mom threatened.

Successfully ignoring her, I got to Rina and reached for the collar of her pajamas, resisting the fight she and her mom put and exposing the marks I so fucking knew Mrs. Zante hadn't seen.

"See this?" Rina's mom looked at the marks and ceased every movement. A tiny smile tugged at my lips. "That's right. She is mine. And whatever I do with her is none of your business. Stop going about judging without knowing the full facts."

I took my eyes off her and fixed it at Madre who looked away from my former position. I couldn't care less if she'd become catatonic.

"Rina is mine. She is my mate, my property; there's absolutely nothing you or anyone at all can do to change that," I said to no one in particular, briefly glanced at Rina—her surprise, precious—and left the room.

I walked away, knowing it was over now. However, one thing was clear. I'd let it all out: my immense hatred towards my parents, and the fact Rina belonged to me.

She was mine; that was final.