Chapter One

Scared is what you're feeling. Brave is what you're doing.     ~Emma Donoghue~       Eleonora  There was a loud crash from the living room, followed by Freddie's angry scream and a painful screech from my son, Luca. Instinctively, I ran to him, knowing fully well Freddie might have hit him or was about to. Typically, Luca and I avoided him at all costs, leaving him to his destruction but now my son was in the same room with a man who could kill him or m**m him on a whim and get away with it. Our life was one of misery, and as much as I loved Luca, I hated that I had brought him into this mess, yet I couldn't trade him for anything, not even for a better life; he was my son, my beautiful kind son. Since the day he was born, I have protected him from Freddie, but it was becoming harder to restrict him to one area as he grew older. Freddie was home earlier than usual, the slurring in his voice a sign that he was high as always; I thought as I ran from the kitchen, my heart beating loudly, my feet lurching in trepidation, anticipating a beating, but it was better for me than Luca. I could take it, live with it, and survive it; it's what I have been doing for more than a decade. "I told you to stay out of my sight, didn't I?" Freddie asked angrily; he was standing over Luca on wobbly feet; the stench of his breath and body filled the room, the coat he was wearing too big for his slender shoulders. The floor was almost covered in small shattered glasses from the smashed Tv and water jug. Luca nodded, his tiny body buddled under the table with tears brimming in his eyes. He looked so small and pitiful I could have cried, but my eyes had no more tears; they were like a dried well. I hated to see him like that. My son was living a life chosen for me by my parents—a life I wouldn't have chosen for him if there had been a choice. I had wanted to break the cycle, tried for more than half a decade of my marriage to fake barrenness, religiously, and secretly taking contraceptives. Still, Freddie had other ideas, hence Luca's birth. It happened unexpectedly, a selfish moment on my part yet one that I called a miracle. It's ironic, really, that I could term a sinful moment a blessing, but It remains one of the best few minutes of my life. It was a day straight out of a fairytale book—a world where they told of kings, queens, princes, and princesses. In these stories, the good always won over the bad; love prevailed; in her beautiful white dress, the princess always ended up with a handsome prince. It was a reflection of how I had viewed the world when I was a little girl. I remember the joy I felt when Luciano read me the Cinderella story or when he read Little Red Riding Hood in our hiding place near the lake that bonded our homes when I was five years. I was happy once, and I still remember exactly how I felt then—no amount of torture could take away those moments. But now I was permanently living in an endless nightmare with the devil. Maybe it was bad luck, or perhaps it was out of a financial situation, or perhaps it was what the universe called destiny. However, whichever it was doesn't really matter because it brought me to a different world. A world my mother never prepared me for and one that my father planned in my cradle. A world where evil men resided comfortably in their wickedness, where morality was just another word. A world where God, even while mentioned more times than necessary, seemed to be absent. It was also the first time I was away from home. Living with a man whose line of good and evil seemed blurred. A wealthy man who thought his wealth brought with it a list of privileges, one of which included forcefully taking me. Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to say r**e out loud because it would break me, and I was holding up by a very slim thread. Anything could cut it off, and all my pieces would be splattered across the wall. I couldn't let that happen. Luca needed me. I rushed in front of Freddie, scooching to pull my son out. His small hands reached out to mine, his tears rolling down his sad face. I stroked his hair, murmuring softly to his ears while his face was hidden on my chest. "What did I tell you about keeping him away from me?" Freddie hissed, sounding like someone was choking him, but that was probably because he had smoked too much weed and drunk too much beer on an empty stomach. He hadn't been home for days, which must have been the reason Luca felt confident enough to set foot in the living room. We loved it when he was away, and although we both knew he would be back at any time, it never stopped us from enjoying those few days we lived without him. We never spoke of Freddie, and sometimes I wondered if it was wise of me not to talk about him with Luca. But what would I say? Sorry, I married satan even though it wasn't my choice! How about apologies for giving birth to him, knowing what kind of life he would have? I might give myself countless excuses as to why I don't say a word about him, but it's because I was ashamed of how weak of a mother I was to my son. "Im sorry, I didn't know you were home," my voice trailed; my body trembled as I pulled my son closer, waiting for the inevitable, his fists. This time, he hit me with his shoed feet, hitting my spine too hard it felt like an intentional aim, and just when I thought he'd had enough, he hit my bald head, and it spun. I swear I thought I would faint, but that meant leaving Luca with him, so I willed myself to stay conscious. "Why can't you do anything right?" he asked, slapping my head again, his breath hitting my nostril. I swear the stench was similar to that of garbage. If I weren't in so much pain, I would have thrown up.  Beating me up was Freddie's game, or maybe that's how he got off. I have countless scars, both physical and emotional. Those that I hid deep in my soul and the shame of who I was, what he continuously did to me, and what he makes me do. "I'm sorry, " I repeated because I knew that is what he wanted. A litany of apologies, the fear in my eyes when I did it, the power it gave him, he knew that the only thing that could break me would be losing Luca, and he was always reminding me that Luca was alive because he allowed it. He thrived in my fear. There are sometimes that I thought Freddie thought he was as powerful as God until a more confident man walked into the room to remind him that he was just a cockroach, but those times were less and in between. I remained on the floor, in pain and bleeding from my head, which he had ordered always to be shaved, something I never understood. " I know why you named him Luca, " he garbled before slipping and falling horizontally on the floor. I exhaled loudly in relief, turning my head to look at him sprawled on the floor, looking like a homeless man except he was lying on an Egyptian carpet. He was beginning to look older than he was; his skin looked unhealthy, the dirt beneath his fingers an indication of how dirty a man he was. When I got married, it came as I shook to me that a human being could comfortably go for almost five days without a bath or brushing teeth. Freddie had a stench both figuratively and literally. He was mean, evil, and downright malicious. There was no line Freddie wouldn't close. He had no sense of right or wrong, something he'd learned from his father. I got up slowly, afraid to spook him even though I knew he wouldn't get up for a while, hoisting my son on my hip and walked away from the room. I knew I would pay for that broken tv later; he had a way of blaming me for his outbursts; it was always my fault for making him lose his temper. "Luca, sweetheart, please stay here until mama cleans up the living room, okay?" I said to my son, seating him on his seat strategically placed on the far end from the door. I wanted him far from the entrance to protect him from Freddie's occasional visits to the kitchen. He nodded, but I could see he was afraid to be left alone. I felt so helpless and hopeless, watching my son grow up in such an environment. I kissed his forehead, and he placed his tiny hand on my cheek, his green eyes looking deep into mine as if he could read both my biggest fear and my secrets, but it also felt as if he was telling me he would be okay. "Don't move, darling," I whispered and left the room to clean up Freddie's mess like I had been doing since I was eighteen. After I cleaned up, I went back to the kitchen to finish up cooking and found Luca staring into space. He had not moved, his small legs fit perfectly in his seat, and his hands were clasped tightly between them. He almost four years old, yet his eyes looked older than that. None of us had signed up for this, but I was responsible for him. My parents might have sold me out, but how could I do the same to my son? "Are you hungry? I could cook you that egg roll you love so much." I smiled, trying to hide the sadness I felt. But he saw it. His eyes told me he knew I was as sad as he was. Though I had cleaned up, I saw him looking at the small bandages on my head and hands. His eyes roaming all over me. I moved towards him, leaning over him with both my hands palming his face; I breathed in his scent, loving the feel of him in my embrace. I loved him, and he loved me. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, " I murmured, and that when I saw his left ear. It was red, really red as if he'd been hit or his earlobe pulled. Oh, my God, it was beginning. I thought as I felt tears falling across my face. It was the first time I had cried in almost a decade. I leaned down to place my face on his, and he wrapped his chubby hands around my neck just as I did to him when he cried. He was comforting me, yet it was my duty to do so for him. I couldn't let him grow up like this, not with Freddie as a father. While his little arms were around my neck, I decided that I would do what I was afraid of doing. Kill both of us, or reach out for help from the only person I knew. My parents offered me as a sacrificial lamb because I might have been expendable, but my son wasn't. It was time to pick up my strength and do something I wouldn't normally do. But my son's life was on the line. I would do anything for Luca, anything. And that includes risking it all. Something told me his red ear was just the beginning of what would come. Freddie was letting me. I couldn't protect Luca anymore. I knew it was selfish to lay out my problems on someone else's door, but I had no choice. He had said, " if you ever need anything, anything at all, let me know" well, this was anything, and he had told me exactly how to get in touch with him. I'm sorry, Luciano. I have no one else but you. I said silently.