blood runs black

II

'she took the punches, but she never fought' 

- conan gray

dior

"You're incompetent and a waste of space."

For Dior Castillo, a phrase like this was completely normal. After sixteen years of extensive shouting, screaming and insulting, Dior was used to it. Anger issues and abusiveness must come with the package of being the youngest daughter to the head of a mafia, right?

Although, it didn't completely make sense, and it definitely didn't feel fair. Dior had a brother, four years older than her, who was the best person in her world. And as far as she was concerned, their dad never laid a hand on him. And Dior may not have been as good as Rafael, but it didn't seem fair that she was the only one that her dad took his anger out on.

She would never wish the abuse she faced from her dad on Rafael, though. She loved Rafael immensely, and would take a bullet for him. But their dad wouldn't ever hit Rafael anyway. He was perfect- the perfect son the perfect heir, the perfect person. 

He was everything the Mexican Mafia needed. Rafael could work undercover jobs, could handle international relations, and could take out an entire family without even thinking about the consequences. He wasn't callous and unfeeling, but he could be for the job. 

Dior was the opposite. She felt, a little too much. She got easily attached, and felt empathy for people she wasn't meant to care about. And when she got attached, her attachments became her weakness. They made her vulnerable. 

According to her father, Fernandez Castillo, Dior's greatest weaknesses were her attachments, how easily she got attached, and how much she cared. And her father wasn't a good man, so he liked to drill that into her head, knowing it was impossible for her to change that. And he also liked to use her weaknesses against her, use her attachments against her.

Fernandez was Rafael's dad, and head of the Mexican Mafia. But he wasn't Dior's dad.

He was everything but.

Dior stopped thinking of him as father the first time he hit her sixteen years ago, when she was just a fucking kid. Just six years old, and she got hurt and wanted someone to take care of her. And instead of having her dad clean up the cut on her knee and promise to kiss it better, he just backhanded her and told her to deal with it.

And it wasn't all that bad. It was just a slap here and then, and maybe a little too-harsh of a shove when she was in the way. And it was like that for four years.

And then, when her mom killed herself a few months after she turned ten, the abuse became worse. And Dior had no idea why, but it was evident that her mother's death made her abusive dad an even more violent man. 

She assumed that maybe, just maybe, it was because she was practically a carbon copy of her mom. Like Maria, Dior had the most beautiful green eyes, and so did Rafael. She had the same gorgeous caramel skin, and the same long, dark brown, curly hair. She was taller than her mom though, only by a few inches. Whilst her mom was five foot four, Dior was five foot seven. 

She even had the same light freckles dotted across her nose and cheeks, but most of the time they were covered up. Because most of the time, she needed a full face of makeup to cover up the dark bruises her dad left on her.

Dior was eleven when she realised that she wasn't gonna escape her father's abuse for a long time. And then, that's when she taught herself to do makeup. Either she'd have to try and protect her face when her dad got angry, or she'd go back to her room and teach herself how to cover up the bruises with makeup.

She became pretty good at it by the time she was thirteen.

And no one but her best friend knew. She wasn't even able to tell her brother, her favourite person in the world, about just how sick of a man their father was. But she always had her best friend to talk to.

Dior used to tell herself she'd be free from the abuse eventually. That she'd grow up, move away, and never get hurt again. But even when she was in college, she could never escape, and she then realised she was completely, utterly stuck with Fernandez Castillo and his abuse.

For now.

reusing lines from blood runs red too? yes.

i have no shame.