Dry Your Tears

Sixteen

Olivia's eyes were cast upwards towards the ceiling, darkness surrounding her and making her feel even more lonesome in the largeness of her bedroom. Her bedroom, that was what it had become, she had been her long enough for the room to be known as her own. She couldn't sleep, she could hardly do that anymore, mind jumping from one thought to the other, switching between the memories of the past, the horrors of the present and the uncertainty and danger of the future. The curtains were slightly open, allowing moonlight to seep in to the otherwise somber room, illuminating her laying silhouette on the bed. Her hands were placed protectively on her small but growing bump, the sonograms Doctor Romano had given her tucked beneath her pillow. She spent most of her time just staring at them, wondering which part of her daughter would resemble Elias the most. Maybe she'd have his jet black hair, or she'd have his beautiful olive skin, Olivia couldn't wait to find out, she couldn't wait to hold her close against her skin, to love her as much as she loved her father. However she was reminded of her current situation and Olivia she knew she had to get out of here before any of that could happen.

Her only hope was Doctor Romano, he could contact her grandparents, let them know she was alive and safe. But, then what? They couldn't exactly come here demanding Luca returned their granddaughter, Olivia was sure Luca would just laugh and shoot them on sight. They could go to the police? Yes, they had to go to the police, what other option was there? So Olivia was hopeful, hopeful that the next time she saw the Doctor he'd have good news. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud opening and closing of the bedroom door, the strong smell of alcohol hitting her nostril, she felt her breath hitch, heart hammering in her chest as she moved so her back was facing Luca's drunken figure that had just kicked off his shoes and slipped into bed next to her. Olivia fought back tears and protests as he draped his arm around her pulling her towards him. 

"Principessa?" He whispered, leaning over her to see if she was awake. Olivia fought the urge to wrinkle her nose at his putrid breath and kept her eyes shut, breath shaky but he didn't notice. "Piccola, bella, Olivia wake up." He whined, words jumbled up in a drunken slur as he rested his chin on her shoulder and put his hand on her stomach. Her hands trembled beneath the covers, wanting nothing more than to reach over and slap them away, push him away from her. 

"I can't wait to meet our baby." He whispered, he moved his hand from Olivia's swollen stomach and pushed her hair aside, observing her sleeping figure. 

"I love you, Olivia, always have and always will. You shouldn't have run away, why did you run away?" With her eyes closed, Olivia wasn't sure if Luca was angry or upset, by the sound of his voice he seemed more upset but you could never tell with him. 

"I wanted to hurt you for hurting me, feel the pain that I did, I wanted you to cry and beg for me, beg for forgiveness and vow to love me and only me." He mumbled, hands moving around Olivia's bump in a circular motion. "But its ok baby, "He continued, unclear whether he was talking to Olivia or her stomach. "I've got it all figured out, I fixed things, you've learned your lesson and that bastard and his annoying bitch of a sister are gone, no longer able to affect us, allowing us to raise our child together in peace. You made a few mistakes, you weren't thinking clearly, it's why you need me but don't worry, I'll  help you, you won't make any stupid decisions like that anymore."  Luca slurred, probably unaware of the words slipping out of his mouth, Olivia didn't care, at that moment all she was red. 

When Olivia's parents had just died, before she moved in with Luca, she stayed a few months with a family friend. Her parent's death was still fresh on her mind and she clung desperately to a piece of cloth, her mother's favourite cardigan, it still had her scent on it and with it Olivia felt like her mother hadn't entirely disappeared, like she was still somehow with her. One day, she had returned home from school to find the cardigan washed and folded neatly on her bed. Olivia was livid, angry hot tears streamed down her face as she confronted the kind host lady, who had made the mistake of washing away the scent of Olivia's mother. Blinded by  rage, Olivia had ended up picking up a vase and throwing it against a wall, the smashed pieces of china falling to the floor while Olivia breathed heavily, unaware of what she had just done as she saw nothing but red, felt nothing but pain and anger.