Hope.
Love.
The will to live.
The will to die.
My aunt’s naked body was stapled to the ceiling with large nails, each one hammered into her soft flesh like clay to wood. Her eyes were wide open, looking down at me from around her curtain of hair as blood dribbled down on top of my face, hitting my mouth. She was screaming. She was alive? It wasn’t until Luca continued to drive into me from behind, whispering at me to keep screaming because it made his dick hard that I realized it wasn’t her that was screaming.
It was me.
Luca continued until he had his fill, pushing up from my body on the floor and zipping up his pants. “You will stay here, Meraki. Until as long as it takes.”
“Fuck you,” I whispered around cracked lips. I couldn’t move, my body was butchered.
He chuckled, shoving me onto my back so all I could see was my aunt behind his laughing face.
Anger.
Anger still lived inside of me, and I’d make damn sure I’d hold on to that.
“You keep fighting this. You fight it as long as you need, but it’s only going to make this worse.” He came closer. “You don’t shower. You don’t eat unless it’s the shit I just swiped off my dick. You don’t speak. Every day I’ll break you, Meraki, until you know how to walk beside me as a girlfriend, and then when you’ve proven you can be a good little girlfriend? Then and only then will I decide whether or not I can trust you for the task that awaits.”
He shoved off me and left, the door slamming after him. Not even when he left did I cry. No. Because all I had staring back down at me was my aunt.
“Take her down!” I screamed, the pain too much to keep tight. I screeched so loud that the only pain that could match that of my throat was from my nails tearing from their nail beds as I dragged them down the concrete. Blood smeared all over my upper thigh when I rolled to the side and saw feces everywhere from where he pulled out of me.
I would die with anger in my mind.
I would fight to hold on to that until I got my revenge.
Now
I can probably count on one hand how many times I have dreaded coming back here. Every single time we end up on this road, acid bubbles in my throat, reminding me of the poison I’ve been drinking for far too long.
Luca drives us forward, bypassing the guards at the gate. His hand rests on my thigh and my eyes drop down to the connection. “Tell him what you told me.”
It’s midday, so you can see the Cathedral and all its glory, including the stained glass that overlooks the sparse parking lot. It has high, pointed ceilings that reach for the heavens like iron swords, while the foundation clings to hell by sharp talons. This place is too classical for this piece of shit family. The family that has spent years upon years tormenting me to the point of no return.
It didn’t stop that week in the gallows. Oh no…
But even then, even with all those memories haunting this beautifully twisted church, I’m drawn to it. Everything about this place makes me feel. Over the years, I’ve blamed it on the fact that my aunt is buried in the cemetery—another one of Luca’s punishments—but I think it’s more than that. There’s a connection I feel to this place that is untouched. Almost like an unspoken promise between my soul and the ancient brick that styles the building.
There’s a large bell that hangs to the left of the building with rusted nails.
I’ve only heard it ring once. Collection. One ring.
I push my door open and breathe out a sigh of relief when my heels touch the loose stones. Sunrays pour over the high arches of the building, and I cup my face while looking up to the sky.
“Come on,” Luca murmurs, forcing my attention away from the architecture that has always caught my eye. He climbs the steps three at a time as my phone starts vibrating in my pocket.
I pull it out, seeing it’s Mira, and answer it instantly, ignoring Luca’s cold glare as we make our way through the large entry.
“Hey! What’s up?” A lot of my life is a fabrication, but my friendships are not.
“Dave is making me angry again.”
I remove my jacket and hang it onto one of the hooks near the door.
“What’s he doing?”
“He didn’t put his fucking clothes in the dirty basket, Mer. Do you know how much that frustrates me? It is right there, but ohhhh no, he chooses to dump his sweaty-ball-crack clothes beside it.”
The twins start crying in the background and Mira’s breathing becomes faster. Panicked.
I pause near the front door, not wanting to move in farther until I’m off the phone with Mira. Luca stares at me with a sneer, tapping his foot on the wooden floor.