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Post by River Antonucchi on Jun 30, 2015 21:22:09 GMT -5
River sighed, now twenty five years old, those memories didn't matter. He was an adult now, he knew his place very well right now. And he was far away from his mother now. So, so, far away. He was under the protection of his own, he knew how to fight really well, he was a proper and better man his mother tamed him to be. And so with those thoughts as he was on his bed, reminiscing. What had he done with his life right now? What direction was he heading, and what was his personal purpose outside the mafia? Nothing so far.
He stood up, going over to his kitchen to get himself a drink. Getting a glass and a bottle of whisky that he took, River poured himself a glass, then bringing the bottle with him to the small island in his kitchen, sitting down at the bar stool. Sometimes, a man needed a drink to drown away and forget the memories, sometimes a man also needed a drink to remember it more clearly. But River was drinking to honor himself, the trials and tribulations he went through to be who he was now. River smiled to himself, he knew though all of the things Pietro was good at, River was better at sleeping around.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 30, 2015 22:02:27 GMT -5
His sleep lately ... well, it could barely be called such. It was the worst sleep of his life, the most horrible waste of time. Days on end, and Pietro hadn't slept longer than half an hour at a stretch. Maureen's face haunted him, her voice, her bloodied fingertips and shattered legs. And - even worse - this hideous self-loathing seemed to have opened some sort of a door inside him. Nightmares that ... where could they have come from? How could ... it couldn't. It couldn't be true. But ...
They weren't always nightmares. Sometimes he was awake ... memories ...
"No. Stop this!" he commanded himself. "You are a man. You are not a child, believing foolish fantasies. You are a man." So he finished off his cigarette and his whiskey and lay down once more in bed to try again. Sleep ... God, how he needed to sleep ...
It was so exciting ... he had his own room! His very own room! No River to keep him awake with his strange snores and moans, his endless tossing and turning. Pietro had his very own room, and he loved it.
He loved his room, and found it cozy, but he found River's new room fascinating. On the ground floor, near his mother's ... a strange little space that was never fully lit. It was like an adventure cave, full of spiders and cobwebs, nooks and crannies. It was small and close. His own lavish, well-lit room seemed so dull by comparison.
Pietro liked his room, but he was jealous of River's.
"River, you're it! Count to one hundred! And NO CHEATING!"
Pietro giggled as he ran in a zigzag course toward his destination - up the fancy front staircase, along the hallway, down the narrow servants' stairs, and looping back around to River's room. He could barely contain his excitement. River would never think to look here! Under his very own bed?
He wriggled underneath the shaky bedframe, sneezing as dust filled his nose. But, no, he couldn't be noisy! He was going to win this game!
He waited ... and waited ... and then he held his breath when he heard footsteps approaching. The door swung open, and then closed, and Pietro didn't let himself breathe. He expected to see River's face at any moment, leaning down to peer under the bed. Instead, he saw the length of River's body as his brother hit the floor, sending a dust cloud rocketing up around him.
River had tripped! Stupid clumsy River! Oh, how Pietro would laugh when he could breathe again!
THUD. River's body ... convulsed. Wait, what was going on? What was happening to River? And then he heard it - his mother's voice.
"This is what has to happen, River. There is something bad inside you and we have to get it out." Another THUD. What was Mommy doing to River? Pietro was confused. A silent tear rolled down his cheek to splatter on the dusty floor.
River started to cry in pain, as he did in his sleep. Hands reached down into Pietro's view; they clutched River by his collar, lifted his head, and then slammed it down against the floor.
"Mother, please," River whispered.
"Be silent, monster!"
No ... what was happening now? Why was she unbuttoning River's shirt? Why wasn't River fighting back?
Why wasn't Pietro fighting back? Why was he so scared? Why couldn't he just -
"MOMMY, STOP!"
His mother's hands froze, and then he could see her face. Pietro's own cheeks were covered with tears. "Come out of there, please, Pietro darling."
Trembling, Pietro wriggled out from under the bed. "Mommy ... why?"
"Come along now, sweetheart. River will be just fine." She took his hand gently in her own and tugged him out of River's room. Still crying, Pietro cast a pained look back at his brother as the door closed and occluded his view. And then his mother's wand was in his face, and -
"OBLIVIATE!"
Pietro jerked awake, slicked with sweat, breathing heavily. "No," he whimpered. Memories ... no ...
"Mother ... why?"
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Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 1, 2015 0:12:42 GMT -5
River looked at the equation he just wrote on the board. Right now, his board was filled with Transfiguration theories and equations filled in neatly, his spidery handwriting filled almost every inch of the chalkboard. He liked studying Transfiguration, he could be one thing and turn to another, and he could totally relate to that. He was one thing, and then he was another. He can turn to a River, to a Lake a man to an animal. He was busy with writing what he knew, and he for sure as hell, was going to make his students memorize all of this shit. And the best part was, none of it was going to be on the test and instead they had to memorize another thing all along. Because he told them to memorize and read every chapter as they go through it, because he told all of his students that when they were first years... So they should already memorize the chapters they have gone through already.
Ha.
River wasn't expecting visitors of any sort, after the incident, he usually kept to herself. And especially away from Nixie, River had become withdrawn and just so moody. He took it out on his students, more homework for them. And he also stopped attending dinner as well, so he didn't really appear at the dining hall at all anymore. Because it meant that Nixie was there, and he didn't want to face that woman right now. Or anyone, really. He just didn't have the heart to anymore. Not even to look at his Uncle, or his brother. He wanted to be alone... Like he was growing up, in his room, in the darkness.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jul 1, 2015 19:30:56 GMT -5
There is something bad inside you and we have to get it out ...
Mother, please ...
Be silent, monster ...
OBLIVIATE!
Good God, he couldn't get it out of his head! He wanted to tear into his own skull and bleach his brains, he wanted to bash his head against the wall until it was nothing but a bloody smear, he wanted to send a bullet through his soft palate - anything, anything not to remember this.
Failure ... failure ... you failed your brother ... you failed your family ...
"River!" Pietro exclaimed, throwing the door open as he stormed into his brother's classroom. "I need to talk to you. It is very important." And then he lost his words entirely. How was he supposed to broach this topic? How could he bring this up without evoking River's stonewall tactics?
Is it true? Or am I going insane?
He didn't know what to say, so he lit a cigarette.
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Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 1, 2015 20:18:10 GMT -5
River was getting his cigarette out as he was writing, with his right hand he took out the cigarette from his pocket, then lit it up magically before continuing on with his writing. He slightly crouched down to write in the bottom area of the board, mentally cursing how tall he was. But then he reached back up again once he filled out the bottom space, he was happy because his back hurt every time he did that, or in general when he has to crouch down to little first years' when he had to explain something.
He heard the door being thrown open, he continued writing, never flinching and never looking at his brother as he entered. He took a drag from his cigarette and sighed out to his brother, "Please don't break my door again, the custodian is still giving me shit from last year when you kicked it in two pieces," River responded to him monotonously. This was the first time he talked to his brother for a while, after all, River made sure to avoid everyone as much as he could. Not appearing in the dining hall at all, not even for dinner, and that was really the only time he ever went there. And River never really talked to other people after the incident.
"What is this thing you need to talk to me about that is so important? Another summon from Uncle?" River asked him as he continued writing and took a longer drag of his cigarette. He didn't spare his brother a glance as he worked on his theories and equations, making it clear that he was still not in the mood to talk at all. Not that anyone really wanted to talk to him, he was River. Nobody wanted him around.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jul 2, 2015 3:35:59 GMT -5
Pietro ignored the comment about the door. It was fine, and he had closed it behind him, and he was perfectly sober, unlike the door incident from the previous year and, overall, he was not interested in banter of any kind. He had one very particular thing on his mind - in his mind - consuming his mind - and, damn it, they were going to talk about it! Even if he couldn't find the words.
"No. It has nothing to do with Uncle. ... River, look at me. I need your attention and I need it now."
That was when he began pacing, so he really didn't notice whether River had turned to look at him or not. He needed to say it, needed to say something, and all of a sudden it was pouring out of him.
"Listen, River, I've been having these ... these dreams except that they aren't dreams, they're memories. Over and over again, I see it ... at first I thought it couldn't be real, that it was some sick thing my mind had conjured up, but ... now I don't think so anymore, and it's ... it's just that I need to know because ... because ... good God, why didn't you ever tell me? I thought ... I thought ... I don't know what I thought. Why did ... did ...
"Why did our mother do those things to you?"
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Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 2, 2015 16:22:33 GMT -5
River looked at his brother briefly and continued writing, "You have my attention," he told Pietro. Honestly, he didn't know what was going on with his brother, what he could possibly bring up that was really important to River? Honestly, nothing would pass his mind, especially not those memories of torment and abuse. That didn't come up his mind as he thought about the topics that Pietro would and could bring up to him.
Honestly, he was all thinking about Pietro's current situation. He was not in the mood to hear him rant about his weird pedophilic feelings that he had for one of their students. He was beyond that mindset, he pitied his poor brother for it. He had of course removed his feelings for anything ever since Nixie had confronted them, River wouldn't understand what Pietro was going through. He usually went on with his day, teaching at day, killing at night, mercilessly in the most gruesome of ways.
He had pitied him when he started rambling about memories and all that jizz, because he really thought that Pietro was experiencing so-called heartbreak. He only read it in books, but his brother had all the tell-tale symptoms of the most miserable of sicknesses. Poor Pietro, he still had a long life to live and already he was experiencing heartbreak. But River was going to have none of it when he took his deep drag, ready to kick him out of the room for wasting his time when he mentioned their mother.
But he didn't stop writing and didn't show any signs of surprise, shaking his head and saying, "Brother, you're so affected by your break-up with one of my students that you've started hallucinating and having nightmares of mother trying to scrub me clean and making me do ridiculous things when I got farted on by a skunk that one time," River shook his head, smoothly explaining to him what could possibly have happened as he took on another drag of his cigarette. He hopefully assumed that those things that he mentioned were of that one time he had suffered the fate of angering a skunk. That was the only time he would say that he hoped it was just that incident.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jul 2, 2015 20:44:03 GMT -5
Well, that triggered Pietro's anger. They both knew perfectly well that this was not an issue relating to Serafina. All right, at first he had suspected that he was hallucinating in some way, but at this point, he'd figured out that this was a real memory that was coming back to him. Pietro had seen his mother abusing River, and she had then wiped his memory.
The betrayal, and the guilt, and the fear - how often had these things happened? Why had these things happened? How many memories had been torn out of his brain? How could his mother have violated them both so cruelly? Hadn't she loved them?
"River!" Pietro snapped, pure rage in his voice. "I need you to fucking listen to me and take this seriously! We both know what I'm talking about. ... River, look at me!"
In a flash, Pietro was behind his brother, spinning him around, grabbing his collar, and shoving him harshly against the blackboard. "You know what I'm talking about. Hide and seek. In your bedroom. Mother ... Mother ... "
And now the anger was already leaking away, to be replaced by terrible, painful emptiness. Guilt rushed in. Was he really doing this right now? To his brother who'd been horribly abused? The brother he'd failed to protect, to stand by?
"Oh, shit," Pietro murmured, voice breaking. He let go of River's collar, straightened it absentmindedly, then turned and took a few steps before staggering and finding himself on the floor, leaning against River's desk. God, he was so tired and so ashamed and so heartbroken and ... and ...
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his face falling into his hands as desolation overtook him, pouring out of him in the form of stupid, pointless, sobbing tears.
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Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 2, 2015 21:31:53 GMT -5
River thought about the now smudged blackboard, he didn't even care about the pain anymore. Pain was just another thing for him, a sensation. He looked at his distressed and enraged brother, looking at him stoically. He wasn't about to tell him the truth, River had avoided that subject as much as he could. River and his mother would spare Pietro the pain, or rather River was forced to keep it down, but soon enough he was brainwashed that it would only do more harm than good, that he didn't love River as a brother if he told him.
So kept his mouth shut.
"I don't know what you are talking about," River furrowed his brows, "Pietro, I don't even remember anything, we've played hide and seek for so many times in our childhood," he shook his head. He didn't remember because there was too much abuse that River couldn't differentiate anything anymore. He looked at Pietro as he loosened his grip on him and broke down on his desk. He looked so pitiful indeed from his state, especially from his tears.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Pietro. I don't know. But on the other hand, why does it upset you so? This is the first time I've seen you cry, at least the first time in a very long while," River looked at Pietro. He walked over to Pietro and dropped his cigarette, stepping on it before continuing further to his brother. He then conjured up a small towel for him to cry on, throwing it down on him gently. He didn't want him to cry, so he kept denying it. Denying the things he had gone through.
"I don't want to see you cry, Golden Boy," River whispered, emotionless as he used the nickname that fit his brother perfectly.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jul 3, 2015 0:37:19 GMT -5
Stonewalling. Always stonewalling. And of course he was, God, it made so much sense now! Why the hell wouldn't he? Why would River have any reason to trust his brother? Pietro had allowed him to be abused, horribly, for years. Why would River ever expect Pietro to express remorse for the knowledge he was now in horrible possession of?
Where had his cigarette gone? He needed his fucking cigarette. Oh ... it was on the floor, still lit. Excellent. Pietro reached for it and took a deep drag, too deep given the fact that his chest was heaving with shameful sobs. He coughed painfully, then used the towel to wipe at his eyes ... pointlessly, because they were still streaming with tears.
And then ... Golden Boy.
Come out of there, please, Pietro darling.
Only Pietro can carry Suki.
Why can't you be more like Pietro?
"Don't you fucking blame me, River," he growled, making his way back onto his feet. "Don't you fucking blame me for things I didn't know, for things you chose not to tell me about. Don't you fucking blame me for somebody else's actions. I. Cannot. Change. What. Happened. What I can do, now that I know the truth, is take it directly to Uncle Enzo. What I can do is kill that bitch for you. But don't you fucking blame me for what she did, or for your silence, or for my own personality. Don't even fucking try it!"
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Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 3, 2015 1:15:02 GMT -5
River didn't ask him to do anything, River didn't blame him for anything. But he left it at that, let him think what he wanted. He shook his head, "What are you on about? I would never blame you for anything," River told him. He never would, he never did. He turned his back to write on the chalkboard again. "I don't know what you're talking about, killing some bitch or something about Uncle... You're crazy, why do you need to kill someone for some stupid hallucination," River said, shaking his head. Surprisingly he didn't want any bitch dead. He was not admitting anything, he wouldn't feel the guilt of it actually happening. "I tell you everything, Pietro. Nothing I know you don't know." It was obviously a lie, a cold lie to keep him from acting like he was right now.
"You should go to the infirmary, you need rest. I know you haven't slept much since the incident, this really is just probably a stress-thing for you... silly things you're saying right now..." River stopped writing for a second. Pietro really was crying, wasn't he? Yeah, he was. He wasn't about to admit anything to him though. He agreed with his mother for once, Pietro didn't need to know. It would make him hateful, of River, his mother, and himself. It would bring pain and guilt, nobody would ever want that.
River wanted to comfort him, but he just wasn't that kind of man. He couldn't be like Pietro, like many would have wanted. He was River, a monster that couldn't even look at his own brother for more than a minute when he was sobbing his heart out. The fact that Pietro felt bad was the difference, River never felt bad about himself. That the person who did was his own brother, he was the only one who felt bad for him. River was taught that it was always his fault, to protect his older brother both physically and mentally. And what he could do as his little brother right now was nothing.
"Nothing happened, Pietro. You grew up with me, you should know just about anything," River murmured before fixing the smudged letters in his chalkboard, his eyes glazed over. River the one who had to suffer for everything so that Pietro wouldn't, the one who was constantly criticized, compared next to his older brother, he endured it all. All the pain and tears, he shed all of them until he wouldn't be able to anymore. Pain was nothing, tears were nothing, emotions were beat out of him until it was gone. He was like water, like his name. He's transparent, and he's there as clear as day, but once you try to hold him...You can never seem to get a good grasp.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jul 3, 2015 5:37:16 GMT -5
Pietro almost couldn't believe what he was hearing, except ... it was River. He always pulled this shit. He always minimized, pretended, used condescension to avoid any kind of true conversation. It was infuriating and Pietro was so very sick of it. Struggling not to weep any more, Pietro angrily stubbed out his cigarette in River's ashtray. This had been stupid, pointless, unforgivably foolish. Yes, they would always be brothers, but they were never going to be friends.
"Fuck you, River. I am not hallucinating, and I do not appreciate your condescending attitude. If you wish to remain silent, then my only option is to respect that. But I would have hoped that, as your brother, as your god-damned twin, you could have given me five fucking minutes of honest time. Do you not realize how ... how ... "
How sorry I am? How painful this is? How much I need you not to give me your same old River bullshit right now?
"I am so patient with you. I let you insult me, mock me, walk all over me, anything you want just because you're my brother, and you can't let go of your petty lying bullshit just once?"
You've always had everything, Pietro. You simply didn't realize it until now.
"Well, that's fine. You can have it," Pietro growled, making his way toward the door and stopping with his hand on the knob. "But I need you to understand that I will be speaking to Uncle Enzo as soon as possible, and I will tell him everything that I have remembered, and we will solve the problem with or without your participation or consent. I hope I have made myself clear.
"Oh, and do not ever call me that name again."
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Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 3, 2015 20:07:20 GMT -5
It did hurt River not to tell his dearest brother. But it was for his very own good, River shook his head. 'Let him to what he will,' River had thought. It wouldn't be any of his business, though it might get him in trouble with his Uncle Enzo for not telling, of course. But he figured his Uncle was above caring, sure he cared for the family pride... But at the end of the day, he's just simply a pawn of Uncle Enzo. A proud one at that.
He sneaked a glance at his brother as he had his hand on the door knob, telling him to never call him that same nickname that everyone so loved to call him in the family. It now would only serve as a reminder, a painful one, of how he had everything for a long time and even until now... But had no idea what went right under his nose. A reminder of how River had suffered through everything because of something Pietro couldn't control, how Pietro didn't and couldn't protect River, River protected him. Even when he had remembered, River was still there trying.
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