Somber Light | DISCONTINUED

Chapter 4

!TW! Mentions of SH in this chapter. I will put * before and after it starts.

Santino

Amara seemed off. Why did she just run into the bathroom mid sentence? She said she was fine but I highly doubt it. I'll take it up with my brothers.

I walked down stairs to the dining room where my brothers were cleaning up. "What's wrong, Tino?" Emiliano asked.

"It's Amara. Something seems off," I said. "Can we talk about it in your office where nobody else will hear?" I asked Enzo. He nodded so we all got up and walked to the third floor, his office.

We all sat down in chairs around his desk. "I agree she's been off but what did you see?" Lorenzo asked.

I sighed. "Well, she looked like a little pale when I brought her upstairs like something wasn't right. Then, mid sentence she ran to her bathroom and locked the door behind her. She said she was fine but it didn't seem like it," I said.

"She's probably doing it for attention. Did you see the way she back talked Enzo? Little bitch," Dante said, muttering the last part.

"Dante," Enzo said sternly. "Don't jump to conclusions about your sister. We will find information about her stepdad and...Callie," I could see he hesitated calling her mom or not.

I sighed. "Let's just get some sleep," I muttered. Enzo nodded and dismissed us all. Soon, I was off to bed very quickly.

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Amara

I got out of the shower and was staring at myself in the mirror, contemplating my whole life. One time I tried to end everything. Long story short, Callie and Brett found out and stopped me, sadly. They beat me to a pulp and I never tried to again although I've thought about it.

I was taught my father and his sons, my brothers, abandoned me when I was very little but I was a bit skeptical of the idea. I knew they were into something shady. I mean, why wouldn't I? I did fight in the underground after all.

I had a few scars from that but mostly from my abusers and tormenters and some on my arms and legs were self inflicted.

A lone tear rolled down my face again as I looked at myself. What if they weren't dead? I hate the way I look because of them. Why did Callie take me when I was little? Why-

***

I cut myself off by cutting my wrist. I hadn't even realized it but I had grabbed my blade and created two new marks. I loved the idea to feel something else besides this mental shit that was hurting me. 

I sat down against my bathroom door and let all the tears out as I set the blade down and watched the blood roll down my wrists and onto the bathroom floor.

Eventually, I got up and cleaned up the floor and wiped my wrist. I sighed and walked out of the bathroom before plopping down on my bed with a wince. I stared up at the ceiling before falling into a slumber.

***

"You bitch!" Brett, my stepdad yelled.

13 year old me was curled up in a ball while my stepdad yelled at me and slammed a beer bottle onto me. I refused to cry even though tears welled up in my eyes.

I was getting this punishment for back talking. Sometimes I couldn't keep my fucking mouth closed. "How am I the bitch?!" I yelled, looking up at my infuriated stepdad. "I'm not the one abusing someone!" I still yelled.

Damnit Amara, why'd you open your fucking mouth? Damnit, damnit, damnit.

"What did you just say?" My stepdad asked in an eerily calm voice. 

"You heard me!" I yelled, letting a tear escape.

If this were a cartoon, he would have steam coming from her nose and ears. He suddenly grabbed a knife and drug me by my arm to the kitchen where he threw me down. I landed with a jolting pain from my other injuries and turned to look at him with the knife in his hand and the menacing smile plasterd on his face.

He kicked me and turned me on my back, holding me down as I tried to wriggle out of his grip. He pulled up my shirt and began to trace the knife over my back before carving something. It was the word 'bitch.'

"Have fun, bitch," my stepdad spat before leaving me to lay in my own blood.

I woke up from that nightmare- or should I say memory. I was in a cold sweat and panting. My door was still shut and everything was quiet so I'm pretty sure nobody heard.

I needed to release some steam and despite my bodies protests of pain when I got up, I walked over to my closet.

Here is where I got changed into a tight bit long sleeve shirt and a leather jacket. I also got into some leggings and combat boots before grabbing my duffel bag.

I pulled out my old beaten up iPhone and dialed the number I knew I needed for right now.

After three rings, he picked up.

"Hey, William, where's the nearest fight club around me?" I asked.

The line was quiet for a second. I was about to speak again before William spoke up. "Ojos Del Diablo," he said. "Devils eyes."

"Thank you," I said. "How have you been? Maria and the baby?" I asked. Despite William being the manager of the old fight club back in Washington, he was a good friend. Even though he was older but he would provide for me sometimes. He had a wife who just had a baby as I left.

"They're doing great," he said. "Business is booming but everyone misses The Black Panther. The Black Panther is my underground alias. Let's just say I'm pretty well known.

I let out a chuckle. "I'm sure they do," I said, heading over to my window. "I'm going to fight tonight. I'll keep you updated," I said. "Until later, William."

"Until later, The Black Panther," William said before I cut the line and shoved my cracked phone into my pocket. I opened my window and stared down. It would be hard to get down from here but maybe with the tree I could.

I stepped out onto the roof and quietly and carefully walked across until I reached the tree. "Alright, here goes nothing," I muttered and grabbed onto a thick branch which held. My feet found another small branch which I stood on before carefully stepping to the trunk of the tree.

I hugged the trunk and my hands reached out to another branch and swung. Then, I let go and caught another branch which was a bit painful for my injured shoulder. I kept making my way down until my feet hit the ground with a soft thud.

Overall, I made it down unscathed besides a few small cuts from the branches. I quickly made my way to the side of the house where I saw guards. I threw a rock which gained their attention and quickly scurried past.

They wouldn't be able to see me in the dark night. I then came up to the gate. I followed the gate down where the guards weren't and threw my duffel bag over. Wait, why do they have guards? especially this many?

I brushed off the thought and wrapped my hands around the pole of the spike on the gate. I scaled my way up and then over before dropping on the other side with a wince.

You may be asking, why are you fighting with injuries? Well, simple answer. I need to feel something. I feel numb and I need to numb the pain and anger by feeling something. My taking it out on my opponent. 

I ran down the streets and looked at the GPS William sent me. Here it was, a big warehouse. I waked up to it and saw a little keypad. William said the password set for the night was 'Venom'.

I walked up to the keypad and typed in 'Venom'. The keypad beeped green to which I waited for the doors to open. Soon, they clicked and I opened it and when I closed them, they locked from the outside again.

I inhaled the familiar scent of alcohol, sweat and blood.

Here goes nothing.