Psychotic Love (a mafia love story)

Chapter 10

Trigger warning!!!! This chapter mentions self-harm. Feel free to skip.

ECHO'S POV

I hear the door unlocking. My heart freezes when I see Luca walk through it. He sits on the edge of my bed with a box in his hand. I pull my knees up to my chest to create distance between us. I don't want to be near him. Last night he killed Noah. Noah wasn't a great boyfriend or even a great person, but he was no Luca. He wasn't a killer, an abuser, or a fucking psychopath. He didn't deserve to die.

I know his mom will be worried when he doesn't come home. She's the sweetest thing in this world. My heart hurts at the thought of her pain when she realizes he's not coming home. I feel guilty. She doesn't deserve this either.

"I don't know if you noticed, but when we were out I grabbed a dress for you. You grazed over it a couple of times, I don't know why you didn't just get it."

I stay silent, letting Luca ramble on. I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore. I have no way out of this. I'm trying to process that. I'm trying to process that this is my new forever. I don't know if I can accept that.

"I thought you might want to wear it to the event tonight," Luca says opening the box. He pulls out a long red dress. I do remember seeing that dress in one of the stores, but I don't want it. I don't want anything from Luca, but for him to let me go.

I still sit in silence. My eyes stare at the floor next to me. I feel the water. One blink sends tears falling. I feel a familiar lump in my throat. I try swallowing it but it won't go away, instead, it lingers until I break into an uncontrollable sob.

Luca doesn't react. I don't imagine he knows how to comfort one under these circumstances. He probably doesn't care to. "Please leave," I say quietly. He doesn't leave he continues to sit at the end of the bed staring at me like I'm crazy. Luca moves closer to me. "I know you're upset, but soon, you won't feel the pain anymore. Time heals nearly everything. Now that, I am a firm believer of."

That's not true. When something hurts me, it breaks me. I eventually put myself back together again, but I still carry that intense pain with me. It weighs on my heart and then it becomes all I can think about. It circles around my head until I snap myself out of it, only to fall back into the trance minutes later.

"Get a shower. I'll come back later, then we'll leave."

I say nothing to him in response. Once he leaves, I get up from bed, removing all of my clothing. I walk into the restroom catching a glimpse of my puffy face in the mirror. The bags under my eyes are dark and heavy. The dark bruising on my ribs from the wreck feels to be internal. Soreness is felt every time I take a breath too deeply. Bruises in the shape of Luca's hand are left on my neck. Grazing over them, I think about all of what else I might endure if I don't get away from him.

I'm running a bath when I catch sight of my shaving razor. All sorts of thoughts run through my head. I want out of this hell. I can't run and there's nowhere to hide. There is no way out, but to end it all. If I want out I have to end it all. I slowly sit in the bathtub, the warm water engulfs my body. I take the razor apart so that I'm only left with the blade.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. You know, not being alive. Not spending every second of the day in deep despair. Spending every day feeling like you're fighting for your life. Fighting a war with your mind. One that you know will end eventually, but you can't help but want it to end now. Why not just end it now? Why not just stop the suffering? This isn't a new thought. I've felt this way since the sixth grade. I just always had a little hope to hold onto. Luca has stripped away the little hope that I had.

This guilt and sorrow inside of me are overwhelming. I want it to stop. I'll do anything to make this horrible feeling go away. I don't want to be here anymore. I have nothing to live for. There's no hope for me. I don't see anything but a life of pain in my future. I shall spare myself from it all.

I dig into my left wrist with the razor. I wince at the pain. Blood drops from my arm and into the water. The pattern it creates calms me.

The cut I made seems to only be a surface wound. I need to cut deeper. Adjusting my grip on the razor, I go for a deeper slice. My cries fill the bathroom before I try to contain them.

Still not deep enough. I give up, throwing the blade across the bathroom floor. This is not working. I tell myself it's because the blade is too dull, but I know it's because I'm too scared. After all, I don't want to die. I just want out of here, but I don't see a way.

Someone, please just show me a way.

I sit in the tub thinking about just exactly where my life went wrong. What one decision did I make for everything to play out right to this moment? How did I get here? Maybe if my sister were here, I wouldn't be in this situation. If she were here maybe I would have run to her instead of with Vic to that club. I don't blame Vic though, I'm the only one to blame.

I look down at the water. It's a very faint pink color. Pink is my favorite color actually, but this isn't a pretty sight. I pull the drain open, and watch as small whirlpool forms, taking all the water with it. I wrap a towel around my body before leaving the bathroom.

My wrist has stopped bleeding. I'm supposed to be getting dressed but I'm in no mood to. I fall back into the bed and stare at the ceiling.

Luca walks into the room with no warning. I quickly hid my wrist from him.

"Why aren't you dressed." He's upset.

"I'm sorry, I just got out of the bathtub."

Luca walks into the bathroom. I don't look up to see what he's doing. When he bends down it catches my attention. He picks up my blood-covered razor. He turns to face me, his eyes still on the blade.

My breathing increases along with my heart rate. Luca's eyes meet mine, and to my surprise, his face softens. "What did you do with this?" He asks. He almost sounds concerned.

I don't answer him. As I sit in the bed, my wrist stays hidden in my lap. Luca quickly walks over to me, harshly grabbing my hand. He flips it over exposing my fresh wounds. The blood that dripped down my arm is now a dark red crust. I pull my hand away from his grip. He looks at me as if he's confused as to why I would do something like this.

"Why are you hurting yourself?"

I don't respond to him. Not with words. That mere question sends tears rolling down my face. Luca sits on the bed next to me, pulling my head into his chest. What the fuck is this?

"Look, I'm sorry for killing your boyfriend, but he's dead. You can't change that. You can't take your feeling out on yourself either. Please stop hurting yourself."

If it weren't for my intense fear of him, my hand would be across his face. He sounds so disingenuous.

Luca grabs the dress from the bed. "Let's get you in this." He holds it up.

I don't refuse. It would only upset him. Once I'm in the dress I walk into the bathroom. Luca watches me do my hair from the bed. I only let it air dry before giving it a side part. I try covering my neck with it.

Before I know it Luca's behind me holding my waist. "You're beautiful." He whispers.

I look into the mirror to see the beauty he does, but instead, I only see a broken, tired, beat-down girl staring back at me.