Melancholy

chapter 6

[6]

I STARTLE AWAKE as a knock sounds on the door. Opening my eyes, I blink to adjust to the bright light shining in through the big window front. A small groan erupts somewhere to my left, the hand that is still wrapped around my body tightening its grip on me.

I suppress a wince as the fingers unintentionally dig into damaged skin.

Looking toward the door just in time as a second pair of knocks fills the air, I use my left arm, which had been laying sprawled out on my tummy right above my brother's one, to gently tap his hand. "San. San, wake up." My throat dry, I have to physically refrain from coughing as the words leave my tongue.

Being a light sleeper, San's eyes open almost instantly while he simultaneously lifts his head from where it lay on the pillow to look at me. My gaze softens as I take in his panicked state. "I'm ok," I whisper before pointing toward the door. "Someone knocked."

His chest sinks in relief as he turns toward the door. A good minute passes before the next knocks ring out, whereupon he releases another small groan, and I don't even need to see his face to know that he just rolled his eyes as well.

"Who is it?" a husky voices mumbles to my right. I glance at the top of Ale's head, lightly shrugging my shoulders.

San gets up from the bed groggily and slumbers toward the door. However, as his hand reaches out to grab the door handle, his posture straightens. He spares us a brief glance before he opens the door, simultaneously taking a step forward to obscure Ale and me from view.

His hand stays on the door handle as his body prevents us from seeing the person who knocked. Silence embraces the room and I hold my breath. Noticing my tension, Ale wraps his hand around my waist as gently as possible and cuddles himself closer into my body, trying to provide me with the most amount of comfort he possibly can.

The breath stays stuck somewhere between my constricted throat and my pounding heart, but my hand continues running through Ale's hair which it had previously stopped doing when the door was opened.

I turn into a ball of nerves every time we come into any sort of contact with any of our relatives, questions hurdling themselves across my mind at a high speed. Is now the moment where they hurt us? Why haven't they yet? Why were we allowed to sleep in this luxurious room? Did we mess up yet? When are they going to send us to the basement?

All of these thoughts originate from the confusion and building anxiety at this foreign situation we're being exposed to. With these strangers who we don't know, and their confusing behaviors and actions.

The eerie silence is finally broken when a unfamiliar voice rings out, "Marcello wants to see you three in his office."

I inhale sharply, so softly that not even Ale who is lying right on top of my chest notices it.