Chapter 04 — The Martinelis' Secret.

That same feeling again. I can sense his disgusting gaze on me, and feeling it is like a knife at my throat. I look around the room — the windows are locked, the door too — yet I feel him watching me.

My chest rises and falls, my breathing beyond my control. I lean over and grab the knife I left on the nightstand, then hear footsteps approaching the door. I look beneath it and see a shadow on the other side. I swallow hard, grip the knife tight, and creep silently out of bed.

I hide the knife behind my back, and with my other hand I take hold of the doorknob with dread. The moment I open this door, I'll put an end to this suffocating feeling — to every night I've spent awake, terrified of him. Right now my hand is trembling like a leaf, my heart pounding as if it's about to burst. I take a breath, summon my nerve, and open the door.

"Alana, you're already awake? It's only 5:50 in the morning."

Sister Fatima says — the nun who has looked after me since I was fifteen.

I force a smile and keep the knife behind my back. Jesus. I almost killed the only person who cares about me.

"Alana?"

Her voice pulls me back.

"Hm? What?"

"My darling, you've been so distracted lately."

She says, touching my face.

"Sorry, Sister Fatima. I didn't mean to wake you. I had a nightmare and couldn't fall back asleep."

I lie, and she keeps stroking my face.

"Sweetheart, if you'd like, I can stay here with you — it's still very early."

"I'd love that. You're an angel in my life, Sister Fatima."

I say, and she hugs me. In the distraction, the knife slips from my hand and hits the floor — I kick it quickly under the bed.

"What was that noise?"

She asks, pulling back from the hug and looking down.

"Something must have fallen, but it's probably nothing important. Can we lie down? I'm tired."

She smiles.

"You're right, it's probably nothing. Of course, sweetheart, let's lie down."

We walk to the bed and settle in, and she smiles.

"I remember when you were seventeen — you always had nightmares and woke up screaming. I'd come lie with you, and only then could you sleep peacefully."

Sister Fatima doesn't know, but it was exactly during that time that that monster began "visiting" me while I slept. I always pretended to be asleep, but whenever he started touching me, I'd scream — and when I opened my eyes, no one was there. Fatima always rushed in and I'd say it was just a bad dream, but the bedroom window was always open afterward, which was strange, because I always closed it before sleeping.

Since I have no proof, I keep pretending they're nightmares. But I can smell his disgusting cologne as I lie there pretending to sleep.

"Thank you for being the only person who cares about me, Sister Fatima."

I say, and she looks at me with pity.

"Don't say that, darling — your father and brothers care about you."

"Oh sure, they care so much they dumped me at the edge of the world."

I say, pulling the blanket over myself.

"Sweetheart..."

"Let's sleep, please."

I say, closing my eyes. She sighs, and I drift off.

I wake to sunlight bothering my eyes. I look at the wall and see it's already eight o'clock. I get up, shower, take care of my morning routine, put on a floral dress, and head downstairs. When I reach the kitchen, a delicious smell hits me.

"Good morning, Sister Fatima, what is that wonderful smell?"

I ask with a smile.

"Good morning, my dear. I made a special breakfast today."

She says happily.

"Why special?"

"Did you forget your brothers are coming to visit today?"

That's right — I'd completely forgotten! They're the only ones who still come to see me.

Before I can answer Fatima, I hear a familiar voice.

"Hey there, little sis!"

I spin around and see Leon, all elegant and smiling. I run to him and throw my arms around him.

"Brother! I've missed you so much."

He hugs me back and ruffles my hair.

"Missed you too, sis."

I pull back, smiling, and look around.

"Where's Guxta? I've missed him too."

I ask, and Leon runs a hand through his hair.

"Guxta couldn't make it — he had to stay behind to deal with something. But he sends his love and says he misses you."

I cross my arms.

"I can imagine what 'something' means. You're still out there killing people — that's a crime and a sin!"

I say and Leon laughs.

"You've spent so much time with Fatima you're starting to turn into a nun."

"Maybe so, since she's the closest thing to family I have — seeing as you, Guxta, and our parents dumped me out here."

I say, and he sighs.

"Alana, I've already told you — it's for your own good. I don't want to fight about this with you."

"He's right, it's better if you both sit down and drink this coffee I just made."

Sister Fatima says, and that's exactly what we do. The morning passed quickly. Leon and I had a good time — we walked through the little town and went shopping, enough to last me through the next month.

I was nervous about it, but I needed to tell someone what happens when the night comes. Leon and I were walking ahead of the bodyguards carrying the bags.

"Leon?"

"Yeah."

"I... I get this strange feeling while I'm sleeping — like someone is watching me, and sometimes even touching me. I—"

"Probably hallucinations."

He says, dismissing it entirely.

"It's not! Could you at least reinforce security around the house?"

I ask, and he drags a hand down his face.

"There are already plenty of men. It's probably just in your head."

"But—"

"Drop it, Alana."

Even furious, I choose to say nothing. My eyes sting with tears fighting to fall, but I swallow them down.

He had lunch with us and then left — he said he had a party to get to, and since the drive is long, he had to leave soon. I went to the small balcony off my room, got a canvas, my brushes, and my paints, and started sketching the landscape. This is my main pastime, since the only place I'm allowed to go is to church with Fatima.

God. It's so suffocating being the family's "secret." I spent years trying to get Fatima to tell me why they sent me here, but she never answers — always changes the subject. As if that weren't enough, Leon didn't believe a word I said. But I'm sure Guxta would have believed me.

Alana Rossi Martineli.

22 years old — sweet, warm, and full of life.

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