Mafia fascinations(2nd book in mafias obsession series)

chapter 17: if you don't take your hands of me, you won't have hands

!Trigger Warning!: This chapter contains a scene of childhood rape, if this triggers you please do not read

If you thought of a way to express your emotions what way would you do it? Would you listen to music that you related to? Would you express it through dance? Or would you express it through art? Personally my answer was the later. Truthfully art felt like the only way I could express my emotions. I wasn't the best artist or anything like that, but that didn't seem to matter. I could paint and paint and paint and suddenly all my emotions wouldn't feel so built up anymore.

"Art truly is so calming, don't you think Allia?" Jade asked, looking up from her work. She had seemed to have painted a couple in the distance dancing together, where as I had painted a screaming girl that looked like she was being pulled from reality. Clearly two very different paintings, showing how different every beings emotions are. I simply nodded, feeling so connected to my art piece.

"Who are they?" I asked her, pointing to the couple.

"I don't know.. but I always seem to draw them.." she said looking at them sadly "truthfully I wish I knew who they were.. their always in my paintings, no matter what I paint"

For the rest of the day we continued to paint, and what she had said was true. The couple kept appearing in every painting she made. I couldn't help but think that maybe the couple was a representation of her parents, I mean when you have trauma it usually does come out in your paintings. But of course I didn't mention anything to her, not wanting to trigger her at all.

As I walked out of the classroom I felt someone grab me. And all I could do was stay still as everything washed over me. Pulling me into a moment I didn't want to be in.

"Oh come on. Be a good granddaughter. You want to please god don't you?" No I don't. Get your filthy hands off me. I tried to scream, I tried to pull back. It was useless. My reactions wasn't like the other times, I couldn't scream, my voice was gone. I couldn't run, my legs had frozen. I couldn't cry, my tears were no where to be seen.

All I could do was watch as the hands pulled me onto someone's lap that terrified me more than anything. I wasn't afraid of God, but I was afraid of the person that used his name as an excuse. I was afraid of the things that would be done to me, all in the name of someone that should be all powerful and be able to save me from this dreadful creature.

What was a God if it didn't look after it's creations? What was the point of following it and worshipping such a thing when it didn't care that I was being hurt in so many different ways in the cause of it's name.

Why do people follow him when he not only doesn't do anything to stop this but instead encourages it? Encourages men to rape their daughters and granddaughters. Encourages parents to sell their children like their worth nothing, if they can't bring money into the house by using their body's. Encourages pain and torture that made children's minds become dysfunctional.

The only way I could survive was by following and doing everything the creature in front of me told me to do. The only way I could survive was by knowing simple signals, such as my waist being held. To others maybe this looked like a normal interaction, a sweet interaction between a grandfather and his granddaughter. I mean it was only a game wasn't it? Not when the game could so suddenly turn into feeling something below you that hurt.

"Are you not going to answer me? That's a little rude. Do you think your too good for me is that it?"

The hand wrapped around me tighter. My body betrayed me by giving in instead of fighting. Maybe it couldn't fight anymore? Maybe all of that energy I once had to fight back had disappeared. I mean was it any use at all? To fight a creature that was much bigger and much taller than you? Sure I got my height from that exact creature, but that still meant that it would be taller than me. It was stronger. Too strong. It's hands felt like it was leaving imprints on me.

I wanted to look at the people sat opposite to me, wanted to beg them for help, wanted to ask them why they were simply watching with those fake smiles instead of helping. Maybe if they could help me, together we would all be strong enough. Who was I kidding, of course we wouldn't be strong enough. No one was stronger than this creature that I was to call my own grandfather.

"Well answer me slut! Why are you standing like a statue?!"

Help me out of this. Someone! Anyone! Anyone stronger than this evil God we follow?! Instead of crying I felt a smile on my face, a smile that was so fake I'm sure it was easy to tell. But maybe if I smiled and acted like I wasn't bothered this would stop? Maybe it would calm the monster for a little while and he wouldn't take me up to his lair?

Maybe if I acted good I wouldn't be used and then locked away? Maybe I could stay down here if I was good? Sure I hated his hands on me, but I preferred when I had other people around to keep me safe. Had her around to keep me safe. The one woman who gave me comfort and would never even think of laying a hand on me. The woman who was in pain herself, yet would try everything she could to take my own away.

"Ow! You fucking bitch!" Finally being drawn back to reality, I saw that my fist was all bloody. But it wasn't my own blood, it was the blood of the boy stood in front of me that had caused reality to become tainted. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. Make him feel the same pain that you felt.

So suddenly, almost like it never happened, my fist connected with his face again. How dare he! How dare he put me back there! How dare he touch me in a place that only my true owner could! How dare he take me back to that evil place! How dare he! How dare he! My fist continued to get covered more and more in blood and my anger only grew. Every emotion seemed to be put into hurting this person who had hurt me.

"Enough!" And almost as suddenly as it started, I was pulled away by someone a lot stronger. "Go home. We will talk about the consequences tomorrow." consequences? I was to have consequences?! How about him? How about the person who had hurt me?

Eventually I pulled myself together enough and walked home, or at least what was what I called home.

"Little one?" I heard a voice I knew was familiar, yet in this moment it sounded like it could have come from a stranger. "Princess what happened" words. What were words? I couldn't process any of it. "Allia." My name? Yet was it truly a name that belonged to me? Or was it just a mask to cover up everything else?

Eventually the only thing I knew was my head had hit something. Something soft. And the world didn't feel real at all.