The second we get to the car, I break down in tears, sobbing into Alessandro's shirt. "I'm s-so sorry. I d-didn't mean to c-cause any trouble for you, I j-just don't want to b-be there anymore." I feel his large hands pick me up gently and cradle me to his chest.
"Shh. It's okay sorellina. You have done nothing wrong. Everything will be just fine." He says soothingly as he opens the door, placing me gently in the car. I whimper at the loss of warmth. Alessandro strokes my hair in a calming manner before closing the door gently and striding to the driver's side. After he checks that I'm properly buckled, Alessandro starts the car and drives away.
Tears continue streaming down my cheeks even after my sobs have turned to little hiccups. I can feel my eyes begin to droop from sheer exhaustion, but I fight it, trying to stay awake.
"Sleep angioletto. I will wake you when we arrive." With that, I let my eyes fall closed and give in to the blackness.
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I regain consciousness when I feel arms wrapping around my tiny body. Opening my eyes in a flash, I begin flailing, trying desperately to escape from my captor's grasp. I can hear someone talking faintly, but even though my eyes are wide open in panic, everything is blurry as I get thrown headfirst into a flashback.
I'm hauled off my blanket with no care at all and thrown down the stairs. Still shaking the sleep from my eyes, I don't have a chance to brace for the impact, instead, I flop down the stairs like a rag doll, hitting my head on the steps and railing harshly before landing on my left arm.
"You ungrateful little whore! After all that we've done for you, you can't do one simple thing? Have breakfast ready. That's all we ask. Of course you can't do that. You're pathetic. No one will ever want you. No one will ever love you." My stepfather growls, kicking me harshly in the ribs before stalking away.
The second he's gone, I let the dam burst. Tears flow down my face in torrents, soaking my shirt. Gingerly, I lift myself off the floor, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood at the pain radiating out of my arm. I can't move it. I realize.
Bracing myself against the wall, I reach across my body with my good arm and try to gently pick my bad arm up of the floor. But the second my fingers touch my skin, I scream in pain and everything goes black.
"Ember!" I can hear someone's panicked voice calling to me, but all the name means nothing to me. Hearing them shout my name only floods my brain with memories of pain. I was only eight. That was the one and only time that my stepfather had taken me to the hospital. It wan't cause he cared or because he was sorry. No, one of the neighbors had stopped by and he was forced to pretend. He didn't care. No one will ever care. It's just an act.
My arm never fully recovered from that. It would have, if I had been allowed to eat. Or if my stepfather hadn't of taken off the cast early and twisted my recently broken arm. He didn't care though. All he wanted was to see my pain. I can feel tears streaming down my face at that thought, but even that does nothing to pull me out of the dark pit of memories in my mind.
"Sorella!"
Sorella? Who calls me that? The steps never did. No, it's someone else. Someone... My eyes blink rapidly as I try to clear the blurriness. I have to figure out who this is? Slowly but surely, everything begins to come into focus. The sky above me, the trees swaying in the wind, the bright sun in my eyes, and the man, holding me in his arms with worry on his face.
"Sorella?" There it is again. That voice. It's so familiar. Turning my head towards the man, I take in his dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Memories flood back rapidly. The accident. The social worker. The steps. My brother.
YOU ARE READING
Their Broken Angel
Teen FictionEmber has lived her whole life trying desperately to please all those around her and has worked as hard as she can towards her freedom. What will happen when her abusive family meets a tragic demise and Ember discovers her five older brothers who ar...