New Inception

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏

-I heard you throwing things. Darius comments while opening the door. He leans slightly to go around the bookcase because he knows that his brother is behind that one.

I look at him with wide eyes, a cotton pad in my hand placed on his bare chest. Afraid he might say something about it, I get up and grab my things to give them both a moment.

-Am I bothering you? He teases us or me, especially.

I know this just by the way he looks at me, with an eyebrow raised and a tiny smile on his face.

-Stai zitto, cazzo. What do you want? Cas berates his brother.

Darius throws a look in my direction, like if I was the interloper in the room. A look which shows me that I have nothing to do here or that I shouldn't be here. 

I like Darius, but sometimes, the way he acts pisses me off. He acts childish for no reason. I suppose that this is because he is the youngest and he didn't grow up with his parents. I fully can understand this feeling because I don't have my mother since my tenth birthday.

"you know that you're an incapable bitch who only thinks of herself."  His words come to mind. Does he really think so? However, I don't expect to receive a compliment from him but the fact that he treats me like this doesn't leave me indifferent and he has noticed it. He would have thought that it wouldn't affect me, neither would I, but that's not the case. Andrew would have kill me.

FLASHBACK: January 2011, Los Angeles;

Crossing the corridor, I smell a nice smell of steak grilling in the pan, a smile appears on my face. Thank you, mom.

-This kid is incapable, damn it! Incapable to remind a simple rule. I hear my father cursing from downstairs.

Suddenly I remember something. Much more important than it seems, I had to be ready to receive comments from my father. I had completely forgotten that I had to go train with him. My heart is starting to beat hard against my sternum, I know that I am going to suffer today; not only because of my forgetfulness but also because it's Friday and it's the day when dad pushes me to the limit.

When I arrive at the bottom of the stairs, I see my father, towering over me with his height which is not far from reaching two meters, his arms crossed on his chest and his eyebrows drawn to his eyes showing his anger that I feel just by looking at it. I already know how tonight is going to go, it's sad.

All his reproaches come to my head like a slap, I already want to cry although the real torture has only begun.

He strides away towards this famous room, where my tears and pains sink. I follow him, reluctantly; legs trembling for fear of leaving another piece of my soul there.

After almost one hour of intense practice, I'm breathing more and more difficult. Afraid? Exhaustion? Pain? No idea but I know that it's soon over, that the torture will soon stop. This emotional torture that is slowly killing me.

Outside, the sun was shining and the birds were singing. sang because my father's cries echo across the plain. It's a time to have fun, not to learn how to shoot at a target between trees while pretending to run for your life. 

Even if I like shooting guns at trees, my father makes it too difficult and unpleasant because I am not up to him; not enough to measure up to a chef's daughter

After a while, the air runs out in my lungs and around me, my head starts to spin and my heart beats quickly; too quickly because it hurts me. I fall on my knees, one hand flat on the grass and the other holding my heart but I hear dad coming up behind me. It's over for me. I know my punishment.