Here it goes.
I stumble out of the classroom, my palms almost bleeding from the teacher's lesson. I'd done my assignment, and I'd laid out all my honest thoughts on paper, eschewing the standard interpretation in favor of my own.
Big mistake.
Sister Matilde, my teacher, had been scandalized when she'd read my essay and she'd asked me to sit in front of the whole classroom while she taught me yet another lesson. She'd taken a wooden stick and slapped my open palms with it until the skin broke, blood almost reaching the surface.
I'd taken it all without showing any weakness. I could tell, just like Cressida and her gang, that Sister Matilde was waiting for my tears to flow, for my knees to buckle when I kneeled to ask for forgiveness.
I'd given her none of that.
I'd stood still, stoically enduring the pain and the jibes that my classmates were throwing at me. I'd taken all the pain without a sound, just waiting until Sister Matilde got tired of hitting me.
Taking a deep breath, I focus on not giving in to the pain. It's not like it's the first time this has happened. But it's certainly the one time Sister Matilde had not held anything back.
I walk slowly towards my room when I spot Claudia. Head down, shoulders slumped, she's following a group of girls her age towards the back of the cloisters.
Confused, since I've never heard Claudia mention any school friends, I follow closely.
The open area allows me to see exactly what's happening, and I gasp when Claudia's pushed to the ground.
The girls, forming a circle around her, start taunting her and calling her all sorts of ugly names. The situation is entirely too familiar as I watch Claudia take it all. Head bent low; she's not even trying to defend herself when one girl tries to hit her.
I jump out of my hiding place, running towards her and trying to disband this awful mob.
Lord, you'd think in a place of God people would be more... godly. But no. Taught from young that being good means you are above everyone else makes these girls think that because Claudia was born out of wedlock she deserves their contempt.
"Stop it!" I call out, worming my way inside their circle and taking Claudia in my arms. "What do you think you're doing?" I ask, shaking my head at them in reproach.
Some girls have the decency to look ashamed at being caught, but one in particular, the leader I'm guessing, still has a look of arrogance on her face.
"Are you ok?" I quickly ask Claudia and she nods, her eyes full of unshed tears.
"You can't go around abusing people." I turn to the others, their gazes now focused on the ground.
"How would you feel if someone did this to you, too?" I ask, but no one replies.
Shaking my head in disgust, I tug Claudia to her feet, drawing her closer to my side.
"Go now before I give you a taste of your own medicine." I say in my most adult voice, and watch as the girls scurry away. Their leader is the only one trailing behind, but even she leaves when she sees she's lost her support.
"Are you hurt?" I ask Claudia, worried she might have gotten new bruises. She shakes her head, but I'm not convinced. I start patting her down when I hear another familiar voice.
"Look who's grown a spine," Cressida snickers from behind. I turn sharply to see her and her clique, hands on hips, looking mightily smug as they sneer at us.
Instinctively, I tuck Claudia behind me, taking a defensive stance.
"Go away, Cressida," I say, my voice full of confidence. I'm not about to back down, not when Claudia is also with me.
"Go away, Cressida," she mimics my voice, making an ugly face, and the others start laughing. "Look at them both, rejects. Devil's spawn and you," she cranes her neck, seeking to get a better look at Claudia, "with your whore of a mother. Aren't you ashamed to even show your faces around here?"
"How original," I counter, "you're just saying the same old recycled stuff."
I tighten my grip on Claudia's hand and I slowly back away, not wanting a direct confrontation that might result in her getting harmed.
The corner of Cressida's mouth tugs upwards in a vicious half-smile as she slowly steps in front of us.
She's one of the bigger girls in our age group, and I know I don't stand a chance, especially if Claudia might be in danger.
"Go home." I whisper to Claudia, and her big eyes turn towards me in question.
"Go, I'll handle this."
She seems reluctant, but as I urge her with my eyes she seems to understand the gravity of the situation as she suddenly darts out of the cloisters and towards the dorm.
When she's out of sight, I release a sigh of relief and I turn to face my worst enemy again. And this time, I'm not backing down.
"You think we can't catch that brat too? Annie's gang will make sure she gets her due," she says smugly.
"Leave Claudia out of this. Your issue is with me," I reply, meeting her gaze.
I'd never thought that my problems would influence how Claudia is treated too... And now that I'm faced with the possibility, I don't think I can let this slide.
People can hate me and try to tear me down as much as they want. But they can't go after my family.
A smile suddenly spreads over my face as I take a few steps forward until I'm toe to toe with her.
"Don't want to." She replies, her hand already up and ready to strike. This time, however, I'm ready for it, and I catch it midair, my fingers tightening around her wrist in a painful hold.
A small wince crosses her face and she's quick to use her other hand. I don't give her an opening as I bring my knee up and hit her in the stomach.
A sudden intake of air and she gasps, bending forward in pain. I don't stop as I bring my hand down to her face, placing all my strength into a slap that has her stumbling back. Her friends are on the sidelines, just watching with wide eyes as Cressida falls to the ground. I give them a quick glance and they shake their heads, not wanting to get involved.
"Even your friends abandon you when you're at your weakest," I tell her, watching her pitiful form. "This is the difference between us, Cressida. You have friends when you have the power to terrorize them, but look how they react when you're down," I smile at her. Her eyes are still full of malice as she tries to get herself together.
"I may be hated by everyone else, but at least I have my family," I enunciate each word, knowing that most of the girls around are orphans, and a family is what they crave the most. "When everyone leaves, who do you have?"
I bring my foot as if I'm about to hit her only to see her coil down, folding her body in such a pathetic movement that I can't bring myself to stoop down to her level.
Taking a step back, I shake my head at her before I leave.
When I reach the dorm, Claudia is waiting for me outside, her eyes red from crying.
"Aunt Sisi," she cries out, launching herself at me and letting her tears flow.
"Shh, it's ok. Nothing happened," I caress her hair, holding her close.
"But they... they," she hiccups, her words swallowed by the intensity of her sobs.
Taking her by the shoulders, I lower myself so that I'm on eye level with her.
"Claudia, what happened today is not ok," I start, "you should never suffer alone. If they hurt you, tell someone."
"I can't.... mamma has enough on her plate," she whimpers, and I feel my own eyes misting. Catalina's always tried to take care of us, sometimes even disregarding her own health. Besides, in order to get some extra things for Claudia, she sometimes takes on double the chore load.
"Then tell me," I say, "I'll always be there to help you, ok? Don't hold it in. These people," I shake my head, my own emotions coming to the surface, "they think we're less because of our circumstances. But we're not. You're not, you hear me?"
I don't even know how to express everything I've held within myself for so long. How do I give someone else advice about this when I'm barely surviving myself?
"Yes, Aunt Sisi." Claudia whispers, and I use the pad
s of my thumbs to wipe the tears from her face.
"Don't let others tell you your worth. You're the only one who can determine that. No matter how cruel people are," I add, both for her and for me, "they can only hurt you if you let them."
She nods at me, her tiny hands clenched in fists. She nods before coming closer and hugging me.
"Thank you," she says against my chest. "Thank you."
We hold on to each other for a while, going back inside only when the tears have dried, and we've returned to our cheerful selves, for Catalina's sake.
"Sisi," Lina calls out to me one afternoon. Confused, I raise my eyebrows in question, but she just waves me over.
"Come," she whispers when I reach her side, "I have something for you."
Going inside our accommodation, she lifts the mattress up to reveal a few stacks of books. Taking a few out, she places them in my arms.
"I asked my brother to sneak some books in," she starts, pointing at the titles, "I told him something more romantic but classic," she blushes as she talks.
My eyes go down to the books and I see most of them are by someone named William Shakespeare.
"They're for you," she adds when she sees me staring at them in wonder.
"For me?" I repeat, almost numbly.
She nods. "I know your birthday passed but," she looks down, almost ashamed. "I've seen you hide around with that book of yours, and I know you're trying to read something... different."
"It's for me." I repeat in wonder, blinking rapidly to chase the tears away.
It's the first time someone's given me something... for me.
"For you," she confirms, giving me one of her kind smiles. I deposit the books on the bed and I give her a big hug.
"Thank you," I start, trying to keep my voice steady, "this means a lot to me." So much she can't possibly imagine.
"I'm glad you like it." She pats my back affectionately.
"I love it," I feel compelled to enforce it.
Drawing back, Lina purses her lips. "You'll have to be careful. If Mother Superior or any of the sisters catch you..."
"Don't worry. I'll be extremely careful," I assure her, immediately switching my attention to the books.
There are three of them, all skinny enough to fit inside my uniform. I quickly peruse the titles As you like it, Anthony and Cleopatra and Romeo and Juliet.
I skim them quickly, frowning a little at the complicated language, but undeterred in enjoying this gift.
My first.
Thanking Lina once more, I head back to my sanctuary and I hide the books inside the coffin, knowing no one will look there.
For the next week, I try to squeeze some time daily to read, the content of the plays astounding me, making me gasp with excitement, and cry of outrage.
Soon, one play quickly becomes my favorite and as I read about Anthony and Cleopatra's struggles to be together as well as their devotion to one another, I can't help but want something like that for myself.
What would it be like... to have someone love me like that?
But even as I ask the question, I know it is a moot point. I'm destined for a life of loneliness, and even more cruelty. Once Lina and Claudia are gone... I don't even want to think about that.
I take a deep breath, trying not to think about that, knowing that if I dwell too much on it I'm just going to get more depressed. And why should I ruin my mood when these books make me so happy?
The yearning between the two leads is so palpable on page that my own pulse starts racing as I imagine them in an illicit embrace.
But since my lord is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.
So intertwined they were that one could not be without the other.
I sigh deeply, trying to picture a faceless man embracing me too, whispering words of love in my ear and peppering my face with kisses.
It might never come to pass, but at least I can dream about it.
Eyes closed; I'm lost in this conjured fantasy when my book is violently snatched from my hands.
Startled, I whip my head around and come face to face with Cressida, a smug look on her face as she's looking at my book.
"Give it back." I jump up, my hand grasping for it. But since Cressida is taller than me, as she raises her hand in the air, I have no chance of reaching it.
"After you embarrassed me in front of everyone?" She spits the words out, and for a second I'm rooted to the spot as I realize that for the first time, pure malice is dripping from her entire countenance.
"You brought that on to yourself." I add, jumping up to get the book.
Seeing me so desperate for my book, she starts moving it from hand to hand, enjoying my futile efforts to retrieve it.
With a disappointed sigh, I stop.
"Aren't you sick of this? Why do you always have to pick on me?" I try to appeal to her rational side, if she has one.
She just shrugs. "You're there. It's easy."
Not unlike what she'd said years ago, surprisingly, her words have no effect on me. I'd had enough time to think on everything and I'd realized that how she treats me is not a reflection of who I am, rather of who she is.
I'm not the problem.
"Then how about I make it harder," I say right before I jump again, taking advantage of her diverted attention to snatch the book.
She reacts a second too late, but as my hand moves with the book, her fingers catch half of it, pulling backwards until I hear a big rip.
We both stumble backwards, each holding half of the book.
Her expression is one of satisfaction, while mine is one of desolation.
My book...
I don't react for a good second. Not until Cressida continues her vile game by taking her half and ripping it further into shreds, the words I'd worshipped until a moment ago falling on the ground.
I feel a knot forming in my throat as I helplessly watch her stomp all over my prized possession.
Suddenly, all the years of torment, both mental and physical, flash themselves before my eyes. I remember how she'd pushed me around, hit me and cut my hair. How I still bear the scars of everything she's done to me and how I'd almost died at our last confrontation in this very place.
And suddenly, I'm done.
The torn half of the book in my hand falls to the floor with a thud. Not caring about anything anymore, I just pounce on her, my hands balled into fists as I take her unawares.
Her mouth forms an o just as my punch lands in her stomach, and she stumbles slightly backward. A harsh intake of breath and she's throwing punches of her own, aiming for my face.
It hurts when she lands a hit, but I don't mind it. I just continue, pushing her to the floor as we tangle on the cold marble, hands in each other's hair.
We roll around until I'm on top of her, my fists aiming for her face.
"No more!" I rasp, a rage unlike any other coming over me. "I won't be your punching bag anymore," I say as I continue to pummel at her.
Ironic that I'm treating her as my own punching bag, but after everything she's done to me, it's the least I can do.
Tears are falling down my face as I keep on hitting, her gasps of pain only fueling my rage.
One second of delay, though, and she has me flipped around, hitting me as well.
I close my eyes, wincing at the pain but struggling to get her off me. Mustering all the strength I can, I focus all my strength in my legs. Bending them towards me, I take a deep breath and I push with all my might, shoving her to the side.
She's off me, her back hitting the hard coffin, her head banging on a corner.
I breathe heavily as I take a moment to get myself together, the strain from the fight getting to me.
But a second passes, then two, and I realize Cressida is not moving at all.
I turn my head around, and I'm greeted by Cressida's face, her unblinking eyes wide open. Blood is pooling at the side of her head where she'd made contact with the coffin.
"What..." I whisper to myself as I s
cramble to my feet, my entire body aching with pain.
I take a step forward, letting my hand move across her body, looking for some sign of life.
Searching for her pulse line, I find none.
She's... dead.
Open-mouthed, I stare at Cressida's dead body. A girl I'd killed. I look in wonder at her unmoving self and I feel... nothing.
No sadness, no regret, no remorse.
Just a deep sense of relief.
She's gone.
But what does that say about me?
I killed someone. Granted, it was someone who's tortured me my entire life, but I couldn't muster any type of regret.
What's wrong with me?
But as I stare at her, more and more, laughter starts bubbling inside of me. It starts slow. My lips curl up in a smirk as I look at her lifeless body, and then it erupts from deep within me. I can't even stop as I hold on to my stomach, still hurting from her punches. I just laugh.
She's dead.
Finally.
I take a while to compose myself, all the glee at seeing the person I'd hated for years get what she deserved spilling over. But as I calm down from my outburst, I realize I need to make sure she's not found.
For a second, my thoughts turn to what might happen should her body be discovered. I'd probably be sent to prison.
Is jail that different from this place?
For once, I don't care about the consequences of my actions. Either she's found, and I go to prison, or she's not found and the world will simply not miss her.
I certainly will not.
My resolve firm, I only need to get rid of her body... As my eyes rove around the room, I have just the place.
After all, hadn't she wanted for me to die locked inside a cold coffin? Fitting that she'd be the one spending an eternity in that exact place.
My lips twitch as the irony sinks in. Maybe it's a twisted game of fate, but at least there's some type of justice in the world.
And I know I will sleep better at night knowing she's forever out of my life.
Getting to work, I prop the lid of the coffin open, the exertion already enough to make me sweat. After, I use my hands to drag her body into an upright position, finding it difficult to maneuver her because of her size. It takes me three tries to get her on level with the coffin, and I manage to hold her long enough to push her into the confined space, smearing blood from her head wound all over the floor and the outside of the coffin.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 7