Completed on 24/09/2018
Tell me who hurt you?" It was a command. I could have been afraid and probably told the whole of my traumatic childhood but I shook my head. There was no way I was telling him my darkest secrets.
"I will find out..I always...
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The shattering of a heart when being broken is the loudest quiet ever." ~ Carroll Bryant~
Sophie
*unedited*
"Please don't hurt me, please don't."
I pleaded, my arms around my chest in a protective way, shaking from head to toe, my heart in shambles, and my eyes blindfolded.
I could smell a mixture of scents, sweat, and maleness, and it scared me.
I thought of him—Raphael. Even though I was mad at him, angry at him, I still wished he was with me.
They spoke in Italian sometimes, arguing among themselves, but they spoke in English when they wanted to be vulgar. They enjoyed my fear, got off on it, my pain elicited moans and laughter.
I knew they were four. I didn't know their faces, but I could recognize them by their voices except the fourth, whose whispers flirted on familiarity.
I could forever remember the voice of the one who'd slapped my right cheek for resisting to climb into the boat, slapped me so hard I lost consciousness.
It seemed to me that Raphael's world had just closed in on me, using me to get to him, and it was scary.
"C'mon, can't we play with her?" one of them said. He was squatted beside me because I could feel him stroking my cheek, his rough hand on my skin, his breath repulsive.
"Don't touch her, or you'll be dead before you can turn twenty," Another voice added. A whisper, really. I wondered why he felt the need to whisper.
Was he disguising his voice?
Did I know him?
But I only knew very few people from Raphael's world.
I was sure it wouldn't be Bruno or Romano. Those two loved me in their own way, and Raphael always said that Bruno and Romano will take of me if anything ever happened to him.
That left Diego, Aldo, Matteo, and Devonni. I didn't know either of these very well, Matteo was too young, but the mafia, as Raphael kept reminding me, had no childhood.
It was the perfect definition of survival for the fittest.
"What is the worse that could happen?" his lips touched my cheek. "You're gonna love it, I promise," he whispered, making me recoil.
My hands were tied behind my back, my legs too, no limbs to move; I was helpless. They could do everything they wanted with me, and I couldn't do a thing.
I was mostly afraid of rape. The idea of a man forcing himself on me scared me more than anything I've ever known.
One of them- the vocal one among the four kept touching me, kissing my cheeks, my neck, and every single time I came nearly to throwing up.
