Obsessive (Sequel to Excessive)

Chapter 109.

SURPRISE BITCHES
HERE'S TO THE MOST UNEDITED AND IMPORTANT CHAPTER IN THE ENTIRE BOOK!

Sometime around 1 in the morning, Luchesi and I had fallen asleep. I remember him giving me some clothes to change into and crying in his arms. We had fallen asleep, but it wasn't for a while until I had woken up with an extreme pounding in my head and a sharp pain in my chest. I peered over at the clock where the tiny red numbers projected 4:53 A.M.

I got up and walked out of the room towards the bathroom. I splashed my face with some water before grabbing a towel and patting my face dry. From the corner of the mirror, I saw my black purse thrown in the corner of the bathroom with the lingerie half stuffed inside, half falling out. I walked over and grabbed the end of the bag making my wallet, and the thigh highs of the lingerie set fall out. When I shoved it back in the bag, the white pieces of paper remained on the ground.

I took a sharp breath and set my bag down before picking the paper stack up and holding it between my fingers. It was folded into a small little rectangle and had to be at least 5 pages of paper. I stood up with the pieces of paper and walked back into the bedroom to see Luchesi was still sleeping but turned over onto his stomach. I took a shaky breath before walking over to balcony door and pulling it open, making sure to unlock it before closing the door behind me.

I walked over the edge before leaning my elbows on the bar.

It can't hurt to read it, worst comes to worst,  I can throw it out.

I took a deep breath before unfolding the paper, seeing the tiny scribbled writing along the page.

Dear Arabella,

I can wholeheartedly assure you that out of all of the things I have done in my life, this will be one to cross off the list. You may never read this, you may burn this, you may even throw this back in my face, but as long as it's here on paper, that's all I'll ever need to know.

I'm not good with words, you know this, I know this. I'm better at expressing myself through art, but my story is too complicated for a series of paintings. I don't expect you to understand what I'm about to tell you, hell, I don't even understand what I'm about to tell you. But as long as it's out there and off my chest, I guess that will be good enough for me.

I didn't know that I was going to grow up to be a gang leader. I didn't even know I was going to make it to age 10. I remember my brother telling me when I was older that the day I was born, my father held me in the hospital, drunk. We never knew my father's name, everyone called him something different. Like I said, he was wiped out of the system so many times, I don't even think he knew his real name. On my first birthday, he told my mother that if she dare bought me one gift, that he would slit my throat with a knife. I remember by the age of five, I was a pro at hiding myself from him. He would come home from work some days and go straight to the room, without a hello. Those days he would call my mother in and brutally take advantage of her, even when she pleaded him not to. I never knew what they were doing, Luchesi at the age of 10 knew and tried his best to get me to not listen, but I did. Other times, he would storm in the door, and grab either me or Luchesi whoever was the closest and take our heads to the wall. Punches, kicks, bites, anything he could to weaken us. My mother would sit and watch, waiting for it to be over so she could help. I remember one day, he came home from work, wreaking of alcohol, I was 7 and I knew the smell. He had a mask in his hand and a bottle of chemicals. I didn't know at the time, but he threatened us that if we said something about what he did to us, to the men that were about the walk in the door, that he would put the mask on us and lock us in the bedroom. Child services came that day, I sat on my father's lap for the first time in my whole life, other then when he gave me a brutal spanking, and said to the men how much I loved my dad. That night, Luchesi woke up with night mares, and I didn't sleep once. Luchesi stuck up for me as best as he could, but my father was beginning to see through the lie. By the time I was 15, it was every man for himself, Luchesi was first born and right behind my father. Don't get me wrong, he was still beaten, but not as much as me, and definitely not as much as mum.  My father manipulated him into beating me, day after day after day. At the time, I thought Luchesi had just realized how much of a worthless fool I was, but in reality, he was saving me. When I was 18, I left. I got a backpack of a few clothes and drugs and a gun. My father knew I would try to leave at some point, and when I did, he did everything in his power to try to stop me. His goal was to kill me, which leads to my first confession. My scar is not from James Casper, it's from my father. As I was leaving the house, my father stabbed me. Not your father, mine. I had to walk away from that house with a two foot slice down my body. There was a girl I used to fool around with close in the neighborhood, her father sewed me up and I left. The reason I said your father gave me that scar was because I wanted you to not think about your family in a good light, because there is a lot of corruption in that family of yours. Maybe not necessarily your father, but in other aspects. I wanted you to feel pity for me.