Adelina POV:
It felt like a part of my soul had been ripped out of me. A part of myself retracted back into the suppressed state I use to survive.
The past two days had made me slip back into old habits. But they felt different.
I was waking up early, cleaning, quieting my steps and making mediocre food that was a far cry from Angelo's cooking for the boys. I was stuck in an old routine, one with new guidelines.
I couldn't say I remembered anything from the night that shoved me in this state after the word authority leaked from Domenico's lips. I remember waking up the next day and robotically starting my routine.
I have tunnel vision as I prepare to leave the house. My uniform is on and worn pristinely, my books are in order though I have absolutely no clue if I have any intention of using them yet and I sit at my vanity making myself prim, proper and perfectly acceptable to walk into school.
Formerly, when less eyes if any were on me, sweatpants and wearing makeup only when I woke up early enough were my daily routine. Now, I make myself a more put together version of me as I dab small amounts of concealer on my face.
I reached for the foundation and squeeze a large amount onto my fingers before moving to apply it onto my body, searching for the bruising and redness along my skin and stopped dead in my tracks, my blood running cold. There was no bruising, no redness. None at all.
When was the last time a hand was laid upon me? The last time I had felt the grime of someone's hands marking my skin? Why does it still feel like yesterday?
I look back into the mirror, startling myself with my own sad eyes. Sad, sad eyes who had everything to hide.
Guilt.
Shame.
Desperation.
And as much fury as my glued together mind could muster. Fury because of how this second nature has followed me after the event. I had always thought Michaels death would fix it, remedy me. Maybe I've become furious because it hasn't.
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Showing up as the unknown sister of two wildly known brothers in the middle of the school year is no where near ideal. It is made aparent to me that it is no coincidence that my junior brothers and myself have the same lunch nor is it a coincidence that my missing gap of about a month of education had been forgotten about.
Getting adjusted is a debatably easy task. How could it not be when everything had been laid out for me so easily? Teachers are understanding of my getting thrown into the school though not especially leniant and the students haven't approached. They just watch and wait for me to make the first move. I never will, I don't have much energy to maintain a new friendship.
I am not being stared at everywhere I go, my every foot step is not tracked, but at some point or another, throughout the day, I had been the subject of every single one of my peer's, or somewhere close to it, attention.
I could understand if their intent had been people watching, I turn no blind eye to the oddity of the situation that I feel the need to explain to no one, but it doesn't feel that way. It feels as though they try to find words of my past sprawled in my skin, as if they search me for my story.
Is it insane to start to believe that they figured me out? That they see in my eyes the images I desperately try to rid myself of?
Every set of eyes feels heated, and while my own sanity tells me it is merely my growing paranoia the other part of me wonders if they really could see something others couldn't.
Shutting my locker with slightly more force than necessary, I head to the cafeteria where I will be meeting my brothers. Walking in, nobody goes silent but it is obvious I've drawn attention. The new girl who hasn't even spoken with anybody, where will she sit?
The answer is obvious, to me of course and to my brothers, but I couldn't see how it wasn't also obvious to all of them.
Valentino beckons me over with the snap of his fingers to gain my attention, a wide smile on his face. Did he just snap at me?
I stop dead in my tracks, "Want to try something else? Something that'll ensure you'll still have fingers tomorrow?" While I have a smile on my face, anyone could tell it's anything but playful.
My voice carries through the cafeteria and Valentino turns a light shade of pink while I instantly flush. What have I done?
Snapping is disrespectful, snapping is the way you get an animals attention. It is rude, especially where I come from but I could have taken it. I could have avoided this feeling of cold fear gripping my spine.
Finding my new shoes fascinating, I do as told and shuffle over to them, their group of friends laughing under their breath. Even Valerio muffles a chuckle while Valentino scratches the back of his neck in embarassement.
I shouldn't have said that, what if he tells Domenico?
And if he does? What happens then?
I sit in between them, finding subtle comfort in Valerio's uncaringness towards everything and anything. They love me, I heard it myself, but love does nothing to ease this fear. A few minutes pass and I can't find it in me to put a bit of food in my mouth, nor look up from my lap, letting the conversations around me become a distant buzz.
Hunger pains ripple in my stomach, I've gone days without a bite of food before but my body is not used to it anymore. I've avoided eating at the house, and since I've spent most of my time not answering my phone to reassure my boyfriend I'm alive and locking myself in the bathroom of my room, I haven't eaten oustide the house.
I stare at my full plate, the plate that will remain full as long as anyone of authority sits next to me, even the two closest people I would consider friends, even the only two people I consider brothers.
I want to escape. I feel the need to make a run for it. To where, I don't know, but the sense of impending doom makes my heart pound out of my chest.
Valentino nudges my side, a small frown of concern tipping his lips downward ,"Are you alright?" his golden brown curls have grown longer, falling infront of his eyes as he absent-mindedly pushes them back.
I force a smile onto my lips, meeting his eyes just long enough for him to see I've made the effort, "Classes were boring, I'm just tired." He nods once, slowly, flickering his eyes onto my plate then looking back to me with question. "Vending machines are my best friends, I guess I snacked a little too much." it's a lie, I don't have a dollar to spend.
He seems to accept my answer, albeit skeptically, but he does none the less.
Lunch drags on painfully slowly, I people watch for entertainement while the boys get rowdier with each passing topic. The rest of the people at the table glance at me curiously, wondering the relation or what I'm doing here.
Adrenaline thrums though my veins. My fingers tremble in anticipation and there's an itch I can't seem to scratch somewhere. My skin becomes uncomfortable, my hair an overwhelming sensation and my breaths shallow.
And I need a smoke but seem unable to move.
My legs are numb, and my voice gone. And I suffer. I suffer in silence, unable and unwanting to express anything but calm.
"Can you walk?" Valerio's voice interrupts.
The bell has rung and the cafeteria is clearing out, leaving me and my state out for display. I merely make a small noise of agreement, cautiously rising to my feet and shuffling to the doors to head to my next class.
Trying and failing to keep my chin up.
I start to worry for my mental sanity when getting back to the house is the best part of my day. The drive was silent though not necessarily awkward and I lock myself in my room as fast as humanly possible.
Once again, as I have been all week, I find myself contained in the four walls that make me feel not safe but at least, alone.
And I decide I cannot be here any longer.
A pit forms at the bottom of my stomach as I know what it is I'll have to do in order to be able to make it out of the house. With another drag of my vape, I build up my courage and the words of my request.
I plan and adjust the forms of my sentences as the calm of nicotine soothes me. I spray perfume, knowing the smell isn't on my clothes but doing it anyways, and hesitantly unlock the door to my room.
The house is far from quiet, Raffaele is the only one not between the house walls, having to attend a class. Angelo sits at the kitchen table studying something I would never imagine myself understanding, the twins yell back and forth from their rooms about a hoodie Valentino claims to own but is probably considered communal at this point, Francesco is having an italien argument with a manager of a business I'm sure is perfectly legal, and I arrive infront of Domenico's office, where it is perfectly silent.
My knuckles rapping on the hardwood door is the only sound I make and a quiet permission of entry is all I receive in return.
No emotion can be seen in his eyes though I imagine he's surprised as he motions for me to take a seat.
My back is straight with discomfort, my chin is stiff and high and my eyes are calm. All signs of confidence I do not feel. He raises an eyebrow, urging me to continue, and I inhale a shallow breath, flickering my eyes off to the side for a second.
"I think it would benefit me to leave the house for a couple of hours," I say. He looks contemplative, and I understand he needs more explanation, "I understand you are to care for my mental health?"
His full attention is on me, and I take the opportunity to drive my point home, "I need to leave this house, I feel it's for my health."
In a final effort, I subtly employ my puppy eyes hoping I don't look ridiculous. He watches me for a couple seconds before nodding his head once, his deep barritone voice saying "Your curfew is eight thirty."
I nod aswell, leaving the room without as much as a goodbye. While changing and rushing out the door, I call Sebastian asking for him to pick me up.
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