“What are you doing?” he demands as he steps into the kitchen.
“Nothing, I was just going back to my room,” I say, trying to walk past him. But he grabs my left wrist tightly.
“What the fuck is this?” he asks, his grip nearly bruising as he turns my wrist to see the tattoo on the inside of my forearm.
“N-nothing,” I stammer, trying to pull down the sleeve of my T-shirt in a desperate and mindless move.
“Is that why there was no money? Did you use it to get yourself a silly little animal tattoo?”
“No, that was not?—”
“You use my money for shit like this?” He nearly spits.
“No, that’s not what happened,” I say, tears brimming in my eyes. I’m so fucking scared.
Most of the time, Roberto is so drunk when he hurts me that he can’t even focus his eyes on mine. His gaze is piercing right now, and he’s out for blood.
“You should’ve known better, Carolina,” he states, almost in a kind voice, but his intentions are clear.
He grabs my other wrist, slamming both of them onto the kitchen counter, causing sharp pain in my knuckles. Heholds both my wrists tightly in one hand while taking out a switchblade from his back pocket with the other.
Most of the time, I retreat into the back of my mind, letting him do what he has to, trying to endure it calmly. But I know this will escalate, and I try to pull my arms out of his grasp with all I have, screaming at him to let go of me.
“Roberto, please, no! It wasn’t your money, but I can bring you more money. I can get it for you, please,” I beg, my voice growing more desperate by the second.
But he seems determined to punish me. He opens the blade and coldly says, “You like animals so much you need them on your skin? Let me add another piece, and it’s all for free.”
He leans over my right forearm and starts carving a line into my skin. The pain is unbearable. I plead with him to stop, but he continues without mercy. I kick at him and let myself fall to the floor in the hopes of him loosening his grip on my wrist, but all it does is force him to come with me down onto the floor, leaning over me. He lets go of my wrists, and I want to bolt when he brings the knife to my throat. My eyes go wide, my whole body shaking.
“You choose. Your arm or your throat. What will it be?” he asks, leaning so near his forehead nearly touches mine.
I contemplate for a second. I could just let him. I could just make it all end. It would be a relief. But then I think about Chiara and what my parents would think of me if they knew I was thinking about leaving her alone with this monster.
So, I hold out my arm to him.
He narrows his gaze at me but then moves the blade away from my throat, and I can breathe again. He kneels beside me and starts carving again.
I just lay on the floor, tears streaming down my face silently, clenching my teeth so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if one of themcracked. The pain is nearly unbearable, but I am not going to give in.
I made a decision.
While he is working, I imagine all the ways I would like to kill this man. I don’t give a fuck anymore how it happens. I just want it to be bloody.
When he is done, he wipes off his knife on my T-shirt and returns to his feet. I just look up at the ceiling, lying there.
“You are never going to steal my money again, or next time, I will not give you the option to choose,” he warns, walking out of the kitchen and into his room.
I lay there for a while, feeling the warm, sticky blood slowly running down my forearm and pooling on the ground. I can’t muster the strength to look at my arm.
Out of nowhere, I feel sick and rush to the bathroom just in time to throw up into the toilet. After I flush, I sink to the floor.
Gathering the courage, I finally glance at my arm. It’s covered in blood, and I use my ruined T-shirt to wipe it clean. Some of it has dried, making it difficult to see, but eventually, the carving becomes visible. As I read the wordPIGbrutally etched onto my forearm, my heart sinks.
THIRTY
I can’t bearit a second longer.
If I have to stay a moment more alone in my room. I don’t know what I will do to myself, to him. I just can’t. And going to college this early is out of the question.
