The fact that she knows my name doesn't surprise me at all. It's part and parcel of who she is in our world, and whyLa Torrecan either be our safe haven...or a prelude to Hell.
"La Strega'seldest grandson happened to be having dinner at the same place as your abductors. They also happened to be drunk enough to have said things inSignorMarchetti's hearing, and suffice to say, what he heard was not to his liking."
I can only look at her, with my mind having already shut down the moment I heard her say the A-word.
Fuck. No. FUCK.
I never thought I'd be the type to suffer from trauma.
NO, NO, NO.
I've always thought of it as a word reserved for the weak.
NOOOOO.
And maybe it really is, and I've just been fooling myself all this time, thinking I wasnotweak.
"Sarica!"
I hear someone gasping my name, but I can't figure out where it's coming from.
All I see now aretheirfaces, and they're all smirking at me behind their masks.
NO, NO, NO!
My heart explodes with terror, and I dimly hear a heart monitor start beeping out an alarm. But where it's coming from, I have no idea either.
'Sarica!'
Because all I can see is them.
Somebody help me!
I can practicallysmellthe stink of alcohol in their breaths.
HELP, PLEASE, HELP!
They form a circle around me, taunting me as they come closer and closer.
Please, please, please.
But I'm all alone.
There's no one who can hear me.
No one to protect me from the malice in their voices, and just remembering the sound of it—-
I don't want to hear this!
My hands involuntarily move up to cover my ears, but it's no use. Their voices are like flesh-eating ants crawling into my ears to devour me from within.
Ever had a man before, signorina?
Ever been kissed?
We're just curious.
Someone grabs my hand just as my mind's about to break, and I gasp for air as the unexpected contact severs the nightmarish memories that tethered me to the past.
