1
Gianni
The sound of rain pattering against the balcony outside my window woke me up from a very blissful sleep. I felt guilty wanting to go back to the world my dreams had created, mainly because my brother Romeo wasn't there. It was just me, my mom, and my dad, and they were spoiling me and fawning over me just like they used to. My mom was telling me that she would never have another child and I was the only kid for her.
If only that were true.
A knock on my bedroom door caused me to finally sit up. A mirror hanging above the dark oak dresser on the wall parallel to my bed gave me a view of my tousled black hair and still weak, barely awake blue eyes. My seven-year-old body looked so tiny in the massive, king-size sleigh bed, but as soon as Romeo came along, I was moved to an adult's room. My father skipped right over the big brother treatment and said that now that I had a little brother, it was time to grow up.
Little did I know how serious he was planning on taking that concept.
There was another knock on my door, but that time, the person knocking didn’t wait, and instead just opened the door. Kris walked in, one of my family’s employees who had been given the prestigious task of taking care of me now that my father didn’t want to be around as much anymore. He was tall and round, with stubble all over his chin and a vicious scar down his right cheek. I distinctly remembered telling my father that he terrified me, so why he would make me spend every hour of every day with the man, I didn’t know.
“Good morning, Mr. Cavetti.” He had a thick Italian accent, in a low, gravelly voice that made him sound like a monster. “It’s time for school.”
I did the best I could to still my shaking as I climbed out of bed. “Okay. I’ll get ready.”
It felt like climbing over a mountain to get down off the massive bed, but I was eventually able to roll off and drop to the floor. I padded my way into my closet and looked up at the daunting dresser that my clothes had been packed into when I moved bedrooms. The top drawer, which was just barely in reach, contained my clean underwear. It would have been easier to just ask Kris for help, but he scared me, so I didn’t. Instead, I craned my arms as high as they would go and started to pull on the drawer and the dresser immediately started to move.
At first, I almost thought I’d just lost my balance, but then I realized the entire weight of the dresser was leaning and falling fast.
“Help!” I cried, as I put my hands up defensively, trying to stop the massive piece of furniture from crushing me.
The carpet shuffled as Kris rushed into the bedroom, just barely managing to catch the dresser before it pinned me between it and the floor. Who knew what injuries I might have sustained if he hadn’t come in. Kris pressed the dresser back against the wall and looked down at me, and for the first time, I saw the warmth sitting behind his scary, gray eyes.
“Are you okay?” he growled at me.
Even though I was shaking and sweating, I mustered up a weak, “Yes,” and tried to reach for the top drawer again.
One of Kris’ large, heavy hands settled on my shoulder and pushed me backward then he opened the drawer for me instead. He then used that hand to claw into the back of my shirt and lift me a foot off the ground like I was no heavier than a piece of paper. I was floating just above the top of the dresser, so I reached in and grabbed the underwear and undershirt that I was looking for and then kicked the door closed and Kris set me back down on the floor.
“Thank you,” I whimpered.
“It’s your dresser, so just fucking move clothes to where you can reach if you need to.” He huffed out, like a bull preparing to charge, but then he threw me a smirk and backed out of the closet. It put me in mind of my dad’s tough love before Romeo came along. He didn’t like signs of weakness, but he still showed that he cared about me.
Now he was just tough - no love.
In lower drawers on the dresser, I was able to pull out a light blue shirt and a pair of black slacks, then I walked with my arms full of clothes over to the bathroom. Setting the clothes on the sink, I turned and looked at the shower. I’d taken showers before, but there was always someone around to start it for me. I stared at the mechanisms, certain I could figure it out if I just thought about it, but then I heard teeth click from the doorway.
Kris was leaning against the frame, watching me with frustrated curiosity. “Are you really this useless?”
So much for being cut a break because I was only seven. “I’ve never done it before.”
Kris stomped into the room and over to the shower, where he turned the handles against the wall and water started to spill from the waterfall head hanging from the ceiling. He pointed to one and grunted, “turn this one if you want it hotter,” then he pointed to the other, “this one if you want it colder. Left for more, right for less.”
I nodded. Hot, cold, right, left - those were concepts a kid my age wassupposedto understand. “Thank you again.”
“Now hurry up. Your teacher will be here in fifteen minutes and you still need to eat.”
Kris turned around and walked out of the bathroom, and after adjusting the water to something I could bear, I got in and quickly washed myself. No Head and Shoulders for me, the soap, shampoo and conditioner that had been supplied were the basic, grown men scents, and even though they made my nose wrinkle, they were all I had. I took no longer than five minutes, then got out, dried off, got dressed, and went to stand before Kris, ready to go. He didn’t say anything, only led the way out of my bedroom door, and I followed behind him.
The closer we got to the main floor of the house, the more I could hear my parents talking and Romeo muttering his nonsensical words and noises. Walking past the living room, I caught a glimpse of him standing on his weak, two-year-old legs, while my mom sat on the floor in front of him, smiling, and my father stood behind him looking down with pride. Not too long ago, that had been me. Though jealousy sat like oil in my stomach, I also just felt bad for my brother. My mom’s belly already had a little podge to it, and soon another kid would come along. If it was a boy, he’d be the new center of attention, and Romeo would be forced from 3 to 23 just like that.
If only I could warn him.
Maybe it was better for him to enjoy my parents’ love while it lasted. His days were numbered already.
“Keep up,” Kris grunted.
