As I stepped into the house, my heart pounded with a mix of fear and confusion.
Antonia was In front of me glaring at me with angry eyes . Before I could react, Antonia's hands were on me, delivering stinging slaps that echoed in the quiet hallway. Each blow was accompanied by venomous words, an outpouring of her anger.
She choked me and raised me in the air , my feet dangling an inch from the floor.
"You thought you were special, huh? Dante chose you over me! You are nothing, Elena, just a worthless burden!" Antonia's grip tightened around my throat, and I gasped for air. I was powerless against her rage, my eyes pleading for mercy.
I had learned not to fight back. Resistance only led to more pain, a lesson learned through a lifetime of abuse. My uncle watched, torn between loyalty to Antonia and a sense of guilt that was visible in his eyes.
He finally intervened, "Antonia, stop! This won't solve anything. There's no point in hurting her." But Antonia's fury was relentless.
Our home had long been a place of mistreatment. The death of my parents when I was just five left me at the mercy of my uncle, his wife Silvia, and my cousin Antonia.
Silvia, drawn by the commotion, descended the stairs with her staff. Antonia explained the situation with harsh words and hurtful gestures. "Dante chose her! Can you believe it, Mum ? Elena is going to be a Mafia princess and not me!"
Silvia turned to Uncle Julio for confirmation. His reluctant nod gave her affirmation. Silvia's gaze turned ice-cold as she looked at me, a chilling mixture of disappointment and disgrace. Without saying a word, she walked away, leaving me to face Antonia's anger and harsh words while uncle just sat down looking depressed. Antonia continued to call me names and threaten me.
Antonia's threat hung heavy in the air as she stormed upstairs to her room.
Likewise, I left the room making my way to the small, cramped space that passed as my room. It was nothing like the grandeur of the Mafia house.
My room barely fits a dresser and a bed. As I looked in the mirror, the marks of Antonia's hands stared back at me. Tears welled up, and I couldn't hold them back. Sitting on the floor, I let the sobs escape, the pain and what happened earlier was really overwhelming.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps. Panicking, I wiped my tears and grabbed a book, pretending to read. Aunt Silvia walked in, her expression cold. "Do I have to remind you that you have chores to do?"
I stammered an apology, but she cut me off. "No time for slacking you lazy ass. Get to work now," she demanded, I could see the hatred she had for me reflecting in her eyes. Quickly nodding, I got up, heading to the kitchen to drown my sorrow in my slave like tasks, hopefully I would have a momentary escape from the harsh reality that was my life.
In the kitchen, I wasn't at ease. I knew something was waiting for me, because there's no way aunt Silvia would be relaxed after hearing what happened.
As I started preparing lunch. In the middle of the process, a glass plate slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor. Panic gripped me immediately, I knew Aunt Silvia wouldn't take this lightly.
Bending down to pick up the broken pieces, I felt a sharp pain as a glass cut into my hand.
I glanced up, and there she was – Aunt Silvia, watching me. Terrified, my hands trembled as I stammered an apology, desperately explaining that it was an accident.
To my surprise, Aunt Silvia didn't unleash her usual temper. Instead, she extended her hand to help me up. Confusion clouded my thoughts ,this wasn't how I expected her to react.
"Come with me, my child," she said, leading me to the basement. As we descended the stairs, my eyes widened in disbelief. In the dimly lit room, there was a fire place and a stool with chains lay on the floor. Fear clenched my heart as I realized that the punishment for what happened and the accident in the kitchen might be more painful and cruel than I could have ever imagined.
Aunt Silvia instructed me to sit on the stool, and with a cold efficiency, she chained my hands, locking them securely. She paced around, silently observing me . Her eyes scanning every inch of me.
Suddenly, she stood before me, delivering a powerful slap that echoed through the room. The pain seared through my face. She continued her slow pacing, and another slap followed. Tears streamed down my face as her harsh words pierced the air.
"I've always tolerated you, been kind to you. These punishments are because I love you, it's allfor your own good," she claimed, her voice filled with twisted sincerity. "And what do you do in return? Steal my daughter's future husband."
Through my tears, I tried to respond, but she cut me off. "Living with us isn't enough for you to appreciate." She walked behind me, unzipping my dress. My back had a haunting display of different scars and bruises, souvenirs from her so-called punishments.
Aunt Silvia, gripping my shoulders, demanded answers. "What charms or witchcraft did you use to charm the Mafia prince?" She accused me.
I didn't answer her because it was pointless arguing, the more I would attempt to respond the painful my punishment would become.
Aunt Silvia kept asking what magic I used. In a small, shaky voice, I said I didn't use any. She laughed and patted my head.
Then, she went to the fireplace, took out a hot metal rod, and walked back. She said if I wouldn't tell her willingly, she'd force answers out of me. She put the hot rod on my back, and you could hear the sizzle as it touched my skin.
I screamed in pain and cried. But Aunt Silvia kept pressing the hot rod on my back, smiling like she was enjoying it. It was a nightmare, and I felt trapped and hurt.
Even after Aunt Silvia took the hot rod off my back, the burning sensation still intensified .
I knew that the pain wouldn't fade easily. I could still feel the pain even though the metal wasn't touching me anymore. Tears streamed down my face as the agony continued.
"You still won't talk?" Aunt Silvia demanded, frustration written on her face.
Through tears, I managed to speak, "I swear upon my dead parents, I didn't do anything. I never liked the Mafia prince, never dreamed of becoming a Mafia princess." The words came out in a desperate plea for mercy.
Frustration grew on Aunt Silvia's face, and she walked up to me, warning, "find a way to fix this or else I will kill you." She unlocked the chains with a set of keys.
As a final act of cruelty, she delivered a blow to my face near my eye. I fell back, landing on my already painful back, the impact causing even more pain.
I was left with a swollen eye as Aunt Silvia coldly commanded, "Get back to work." With that, she walked out of the basement, leaving me battered and broken, the pain echoing in my every breath.