Episode 17

I awoke to her vanilla scent lingering close to me. Everything about her is cloyingly sweet, even in slumber.

Her arms rested around my waist; it was as if she were hugging me.

For a moment, I watched her as she slept.

Then I fell back to sleep.

Dreams and the words "We met in France" danced through my head, and I began to dream about my time there, at that damned place with Bleer and Isabella.

★Dream.

"Mommy, why is Daddy always upset? Why is he mad at me?" I asked Isabella as she brushed her long hair.

"Your daddy thinks you're a nuisance, so don't bother him and keep your disgusting presence away—you’re repulsive," she said with a smile.

"Mom, when will you take me to the park? The last time you got mad because I didn't want to play with the other kids," I said, clinging to a last hope that she would take me out of the house. I didn't care if it was the park or just the corner; I wanted to feel the fresh air again, having forgotten what it was like.

"You know what? You've bored me. When I see your daddy, I'll tell him you've been very naughty."

She rose from her seat and walked to the exit.

Then she shut the huge metal door and turned off the lights. Darkness enveloped me, and I didn’t know how much longer I would be locked up here, in the pitch-black.

When the doors finally opened after several days, the silhouetted figure stood in the doorway. I was famished.

"Bleer!" I said.

"Say Daddy!" he responded with a grin from ear to ear. I lowered my head and murmured, "Yes, Daddy."

"Look, trash. I'm going to show you why I have you here," he said.

He approached me and started throwing a pile of photos of a couple at me.

"Who are these people?" I asked, looking at the photos.

"Their names are Kevin Smith and Nicolette Smith."

"Who are they?"

"They are scum you should hate, and every time I treat you badly, like now, I want you to think of them."

He placed a huge photo of the man named Kevin on the huge mirror.

Then he unbuckled his belt and dipped it into a bucket of water—he was going to hit me again.

He came closer and began to beat me.

"See, it's all because of him. If I don't love you, it's because of what this man did."

I didn't cry, not a tear; I merely looked at the photo with disdain, the photo of the man before me. I hated Kevin Smith. I hated the man I was led to believe was my father because he didn't love me due to whatever this man had done.

When he grew tired, my back was marked.

He urinated on me, and the pain stung my back. I complained a bit, and he left the room.

The door remained ajar. With my back still bleeding, I stood up and left the room, moving slowly as everything hurt with each step.

Then I heard the laughter of a girl.

★End of dream.

I woke and glanced at the wristwatch—it was 6 in the morning.

I removed Daniela's hands from me and got out of bed.

"Time to get up," I said, shaking her gently.

"Five more minutes, please," she murmured.

"Daniela... come on, I need to go home and change."

"Haha, you don't want your girlfriend knowing you slept over, right? My bed wasn't cozy enough for you?" she said with a smile.

"Virginal Daniela..." I approached her, and she reclined on the bed. "If you're going to tattle to Stephy, make it for something worthwhile. Putting up with your snoring and kicking isn't. If you're going to accuse me, let it be when I've taken your virginity."

"You're eager to take it, aren't you? But we only slept."

"That can be arranged," I said, and she flushed a shade of red.

"Let's go!" she whispered.

"I hate being threatened. Since you’re threatening, I'll try to make it believable. Plus, if you tell Stephanie, try not to leave your house because even sunlight might kill you."

"I won't do it, I won't accuse you."

"Good girl."

I straightened up and left her room.

She went into the bathroom, took a shower, and came out in a pastel pink dress.

"How do I look?"

"Horrible, let's go." She looked lovely.

"You're such a grouch," she said, running after me.

"I don't like pink."

"I’ll wear pink a lot since my watchdog doesn't like it," she said with a triumphant smile.

"Stop calling me a watchdog, dummy!"

"Stop running, Alessandro."

I stopped, and she bumped into my back.