Page 44 of Twisted Minds of Sin

I hate doors.

It's why my room has no door. My father knew I couldn't stand wanting to break out from something holding me back against my will. I will pick at my flesh till I have nothing but a skeleton left.

I move back and aim at the door, then plunge with my shoulder but it stays firm, mocking my strength. I plunge again.

“Benedetto, stop it,” my mother’s voice barks.

“Get away from me unless you want me to use you to open the damn door.”

“Tell me what you want,” she shrieks.

“Tell her to open her door,” I plunge again, “or get this door open for me,” I stop plunging, not because I know my shoulder will soon fall off but because she might be able to help me. “Mother,get her to open the door,” I go to her, with every part of me from the inside out vibrating, and she cups my cheeks, crying.

“Please, please,” she sniffs.

“Get her to open the damn door,” I slap her hands away from my face. She is as good as useless and I don't need her touching my face right now.

I shove her aside and dash back up to exert the same technique of using my shoulder on Rosaline’s door.

“Rosaline!” I growl as I get to her door and launch myself at it with my shoulder.

Fuck that old man for making the doors this strong. He knew. He fucking saw everything coming and he did everything to keep me from losing myself.

If he were here, he would know what to do. If he were here, none of this would be happening.

If he were here.

He is not here.

Another image finds a way into my chaotic mind. The memory of my father taking full responsibility for the one time I wanted to know how the human body worked so badly I twisted the armsof a kid in school. He waited with the boy's parents to be sure the boy was fine. It was that day he decided to stop me attending school with other kids. And it was the day we both discovered that pain can keep the demon at bay.

I wasn't done, even when the boy was being dragged out to the school clinic. I wanted to know more. I wanted to discover how much more could be done. And my father looked me dead in the eye and broke my pinky finger. I didn't scream. But the pain was enough to get me back to my senses. And he undid what he broke, which was more pain and by then I was lifeless.

I exhale.

I don't know how but I am now sitting on this floor and feeling the one pain that supersedes every other.

He is not here.

I can feel the ache in my heart so much I cannot breathe. It's gutting. It's gurgling. It's ripping me physically apart, even if I can't see any tear on my body.

“Hey buddy,” Orazio crawls to me, “I was in a hotel, I'm so sorry I couldn't make it sooner.”

“He didn't do anything much,” my mother sniffs.

“I'll take him to his room now,” Orazio takes his arms around my waist and hurls me up, “This way,” he leads me in the direction of my quarters.

“Here,” I hear Evelyn and feel the cotton fabric of my towel wrap around my waist and tie in place.

“Orazio, however you can, please keep him away from her,” my mother pleads.

Keep me away from her.

No truer words were ever said.

Chapter Fourteen

ROSE

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