Page 5 of Monster in Disguise

He casually saunters to the table behind my mother, picking up a cross... or what looks like a cross, because one end is sharp. Father tests the sharpness of the blade, and I'm shaking with fear. Is he going to cut me?

I instinctively curl into a ball, hugging my knees and holding Amico to my chest.

"So, boy. You have a choice. You either take your punishment, or I must believe your mother lied. And if she lied..." His gaze strays to her, and she's petrified.

I slowly loosen up.

"I'll take my punishment, sir," I say slowly and wait for my punishment.

"Not that easy. Your punishment will be to get rid of that pest you're carrying." He motions towards Amico, and my eyes widen in understanding.

"No..." I whisper, and I try to crawl away from him.

"No?" he asks, amused. "Fine." He shrugs, gets up, and turns to my mother. Even though she is terrified, she doesn't move from her spot. She calmly turns her back towards my father and unfastens her gown so it falls to her midriff.

I don't even see Father move around to grab a piece of rope. My gaze is stuck on Mother's back. Even in the poor lighting of the room, I can see that her skin is mangled, barely any inch of skin unblemished. She's already resigned to this.

Just as Father is about to hit her bare back, I yell.

"I'll do it." My voice is trembling. I don't know what made me choose to spare Mother, when I know she would haveneverdone the same for me. But I did. My eyes go to Amico, who is looking at me with his big puppy eyes. I can feel the tears in my eyes as I realize what I've chosen.

Father comes next to me again, and puts the knife in my hand, wrapping my fingers around it.

"For a quick death, you always go for the jugular," he mentions.

I keep staring at Amico, trying to talk myself into this. I know I'm hesitating when I'd said I'd do it, but I don't know if I can.

"Liliana, don't dress yet," Father says with a hint of warning in his voice.

My hand is shaking uncontrollably as I bring the knife to Amico's throat. Father covers my hand with his own.

"Do it!" he commands, his grip tightening to a painful degree. He guides my hand and with one swipe of the knife, blood gushes out of Amico's throat, flowing down my hand and covering my clothes.

I can't move. I just stand there, watching Amico struggle for a second, before dying—by my hands.

Father chuckles at this.

"Maybe I can still make something of you," he adds before leaving and closing the door behind him.

I'm cradling Amico's dead body in my arms, finally letting the tears flow. In my head, I keep asking for forgiveness, knowing there is no one to grant it.

I must have stayed like that for a while, rocking back and forth with Amico's body, silently begging him to forgive me, when Mother suddenly pushes me to the ground.

I fall on my back and my attention finally snaps to her. She has a crazed look as she's holding a bottle in one hand and a cross in the other.

"Cleanse... must cleanse the sin," she keeps repeating as she sprays me with the water and hits me with the cross. I take a defensive stance, and she mostly hits my arms and legs.

I don't know when she stops doing it, or how I end up in the backyard, covered in blood and bruises and trying to give Amico a proper burial.

But there is one thing I learned that day.

I am a monster.

I am a sinner.

And there is no redemption.

Marcello

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