Victoria

Victoria

He pinned me against the wall, his left arm pressing the veins of my neck while the fingers of this right hand were curled into a fist, and was punching at the wall. As his punches became harder, the grip of his left arm loosened, giving me relief. As soon as his left arm left me, I coughed, deeper and deeper till my neck became sore. His fist continued to collide with the wall and his fingers were now painted red by the blood spilling from his veins. My coughing deepened and I spat blood, he pushed me hard towards his left, my head colliding with the wooden cupboard. The newly formed wound on my head started to bleed, blood running down from my forehead to my chin, parallel to the cut in my lip. My condition was terrible, but I couldn't hurt him. Not because I was weak, but because he was my brother.

"Vincent" I called to him with a voice not sounding like my own. He didn't even bat an eyelid, forget even looking at me.

"Look. At. Me" I said with an emotionless voice, taking dramatic pauses between the words. Each word came out of my mouth as a struggle, my body ready to collapse at any moment and was evident in the way I spoke. This seemed to have an effect on him as he stopped punching and looked at my feet.

"Look me in the eye, coward" I said, knowing that he was not a coward but hurt. He looked up and his blue eyes met my green ones. We looked quite different from each other and any onlooker may never guess that we were related. But deep down , we both were same, not just  because we were related, but because of what life had made us. We had scars that we would never show, we were survivors in ways nobody ever will know.

As we looked in each other's eye's I went into a flashback. How we stayed on the roads, unwanted, dirty and exhausted .How he went from one trash can to another, searching for food. How he would starve , but make me eat, did all the hard work and keep me in comfort. I can never hurt a brother like that, never. No matter what he does to me.

The look in his face softened, realizing what he had just done. He took the bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, took a big gulp, and threw the bottle. I stared at the golden yellow liquid spreading across the floor and pursed my lips.

"Amanda is gone" the words left my lips before I could register it and I heard his footsteps fade into darkness and the door shut.

My eyes shot open by the buzzing of my cell phone. James picture spread on my display.

"Hello" his voice blared in my cell phone speaker , but I didn't say a word. "Are you okay? Want to come and meet me?" he asked and was going to ask more before I cut him.

"Be at the den, I am coming" I told him sternly.

"Okay, be careful" he said and I ended the call. It was funny how having a gangster parent was dangerous, but having dead gangster parents opened all gates of hell. No wonder, our conversation ended with "be careful" and not a "I love you" like most couples did. I stuffed the revolver in my back pocket and left for the den.

Den was nothing massive but a hidden underground room which looked like an ordinary living room , but was the hub of all secret activities. It kept us, children of the dead gangsters safe. I kicked the loosely hinged door and went towards him. He was watching television when he turned towards me, concern all over his face.

"Vincent did this right? I will go and kill him" he said grinding his teeth and walked towards the door.

"No wait, he is my brother" I said holding his hand, not letting him go.

"But he did this yesterday too , and today again. I can't let him hurt you." he reasoned and searched my face, looking at my wounds.

"He is hurt; he lost Amanda two days back. You know how much they loved each other. After a long period of struggle happiness came into his life with Amanda. It will take time for him to become normal. It's not easy to see your beloved stabbed to death. She was an ordinary girl who got trapped in this gangster mess. And Vincent blames himself for her death. Feels that the mafia did this to warn him" I explained, looking at James. I was still holding his hand and felt him tense hearing Amanda's name.