PINK

20

'This world is

laden in corruption.'

Iara's eyelid rise, to the wet sensation that covers her cheeks. Her vision blurry from being unconsciousness for so long causes her trouble in making out surroundings. She's lying down, and can tell by the surface her back and skull rest upon.

A huge blur shifts into her vision. It slowly transitions into Dante's face hovering above hers. When she regains her wits, Iara moves back.

"What are you doing?" She asks defensively pushing back into the soft cushion beneath her.

"Uh, you fainted so I..." He holds up a wet tissue, much to Iara's immense confusion.

"...I was cooling you down, you were burning up really badly. Sorry I should've asked." His lips draw into a line as he moves away ashamed.

She didn't mind, it was actually kind of sweet of him; but what she feels she should say to him doesn't match. Cognitive dissonance - when your beliefs and feelings don't match your behaviour and this causes an uneasy feeling. She learnt that in psychology class a while ago.

"Yeah, you should've." She replies, a certain sting Dante picks up in her tone. This hurts him, cuts him harder than his self-inflicted abrasions. They sit in silence for a moment, before Iara walks towards the front door.

"No!" Dante yelps as he lurches towards her. Iara whips her head around and stares him in his pleading eyes.

"Let me go! Why won't you let me leave?!" She yells, on the verge of crying, she shakes Dante's hard grip on her limp wrist. Dante holds her against his will. Emotions and tension swell in the room.

"I'm sorry Iara, you can't leave. Please trust me." He implores, tightening his grip the more she pulls. The uneasy ambience thrives on their arguments, creating a thick bubble of friction around them.

"Yes I can!" She cries, snatching her hand away from his clutch, she latches onto the door knob.

"Stop it Iara!" He growls, a streak of anger cursing through his tone. Iara falters and she feels her stomach twist with sickness. Dante regrets his display of aggressiveness after he sees Iara's distressed state.

She looks up at him, her bottom lip quivering and eyes glistening with salty tears that balance of the edge of her eyelid. She sees Dante but in her mind she pictures her belligerent step-father; he towers over her, casting a dark shadow upon her. His mouth opens and violent outbursts spill out - wait, 'spill out' isn't a good descriptive, rather they would shoot out, like full metal jacket bullets, piercing her mind and heart. Now every time she hears someone raise their voice in hostility, she feels sick and fearful, permanently wounded.

Dante just emulated her step-father's actions and it maimed her more than she could imagine.

"Why did you do that? Why did you yell like that?" She splutters, on the cusp of breaking down; she could feel herself losing control.

"I-I'm sorry, I had to." He says, eyebrows crunched up towards each other.

"You hurt me, it hurts right here." She gently wraps her fingers around his wrist and brings it to her abdomen, right below her ribs and above her belly button. His palm tenderly caresses her skin through her clothes. Iara feels a fuzzy and warm sensation flourish where his hand rests, he too, feels this cordial sensation spark in his chest area as it made its way through his arm.

"Every time I see you it hurts, but this time it feels heavy, you yelled at me, of all people!" She cries, feeling her heart shatter and its shards plummeting and cutting all her insides, making it difficult for her to breathe.

"Please, I am so sorry, Iara you have no idea, you can't leave! You'll be killed please trust me!" Dante pleads but Iara is stuck in memories of torment and is deaf to his warnings.

"Please don't get angry, don't be like him please. I can't deal with that again." She beseeches pulling his arm closer to her as she rest her head on his shoulder. Dante is pleasantly surprised by her actions, he can't help but allow a small smile to appear on his rounded lips. He knows he isn't an angry person at heart, but a compassionate one.

"I won't, I promise." He says softly, lifting his arms uncertainly, he decides to wrap them around her body that shake with soft sobs. Her breath wavers for a moment as her head cranes up, she stares at his comforting gaze that reassures her everything is going to be okay, even if they were in a predicament like now.

"You need to trust me though, you can't escape now." He says.

"But why?"

"He will kill you. He will come back, see that you are gone and send out a search party. Once they find you he will convince them to let him have you, then you'll be another painting on the wall." He exclaims. The whole scene plays out in her head, she looks at all the hung pieces.

"You mean, he's been doing this for a while?" She asks, shocked.

"Ever since he found out that Addy cheated on him with his brother, he's been determined to do the same to her. That's why he would hire young girls, luring them in with a stable and decent job. He really liked you, more than he did all the others. I think this time he really cracked." Dante walks away and slumps on the couch, back hunched and knees together. Iara watches on from the door.

"All the girls never took a liking to him, well at least the way he wanted them too. They would always either want me or no one at all. That's when his disdain for me began, also the whole craziness that has its hold of all the members of this fucked family." He runs his hands through his blond hair; the strands stand on end but then fall gracefully above his forehead.

"When we would talk he would get so envious. I overheard Addy and Sanny saying how they were going to tell you, everyone liked you, it's hard not to." He chuckles and his face flushes with heat bringing blush to the apple of his cheeks.

"But he killed them. I know he's wanted to do it for a long time now."

"Can't we call the police?" Iara interjects.

Dante just laughs.

"He is the fucking police."