Salvatore.

Eight

Her mind was blank, empty.
It was as if the events that had just happened were a fuzzy dream; she could only recall bits and pieces.

She sat in the lounge with her cousins blood still staining her face. Her bottom lip quivered slightly now and again; but other than that her muscles didn't move - it was like she was stone.
Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her sweater, she was watching her actions with glazed eyes.

Words shot from her fathers mouth like a rocket, he pummeled her with thousands of questions she didn't have the answer to; she had no way to process his words.
She knew she should be more frightened of him as his voice grew louder and his face became red; but she felt as though she wasn't even in her own body.

Only four people survived the massacre - her, Demitri, Korra and her pregnant cousin Mila. They found Korra in a corner crying, she was covered in blood; but it wasn't hers - it was her brothers. She was with Christos when the gun shot him in the chest, but it didn't kill him instantly. The poor boy was struck in the aorta and had choked to death on his own blood. Korra has desperately tried to wake him up, she refused to leave his side.

And as the Dýnami men came in to rescue the remaining survivors, they tried to take Korra out of the bloodied house; but she held onto her brothers lifeless corpse - she said she couldn't leave Christos all by himself.

Mila had been shot in the leg and pretended to play dead, but she had been in the dining room when everything went down and had witnessed the majority of the slaughter first hand. Athena wasn't a doctor, but she didn't have to be one to realize that with the amount of blood Mila had lost and the stress she had endured; that the baby couldn't have made it.
The survivors were broken.

Her father and stopped asking questions and had started to yell directly at her face, spit was flying out of his mouth; she thought the vein in his forehead was going to burst.
Her hands gripped the bottom of her sweater in a death grip and they started to shake.

Her four brothers were still at her grandmothers house, they were with her uncles and cousins and they were cleaning up the mess. Her father had taken her out of the house as soon as they got there. As he had been dragging her by the arm out the front door she hadn't failed to miss the dead bodies lying on the floor; their eyes were wide - petrified with fear. She had thought she was going to throw up again.

"I'm asking you a question Athena! What the fuck happened down there?! What did you fucking see!!" Her father roared, his face had deepened to a dark red and she had assumed steam was going to come out of his ears.
"I-I... I don't know." She whispered quietly, averting her gaze towards the floor - knowing her father was on the verge of snapping.

George cursed loudly and grabbed her forearm quite harshly, causing her to flinch backwards.
Her breathing quickened and she hastily racked her brain for information on the earlier events of that day, her breath hitched.

"B-But there w-was this man. They c-called him S-Santiago." She spoke quickly, not wanting to face her fathers wrath after what had just occurred.

He was about to say something when his lips pursed into a fine line, he pushed her arm away, causing her to fall back into the couch. She knew he was drunk, she could smell the liquor on him which caused her stomach to twist. She just hoped he could do something with the information she had given him.

He started to speak incoherent Greek under his breath, words Athena couldn't understand. His hands balled into fists and he shook his head, he turned around and pushed through the double doors of the lounge room, disappearing into the house.

Thea was alone.
It was the last place she wanted to be.
Even if that meant having George screaming in her face for hours on end, she would have preferred that then being left alone after what happened.