MOANS BEHIND THE EASEL

NIKOLETTE POV "NO, PLEASE... I BEG YOU TO STOP HURTING ME."  I sobbed hard. The tightness in my chest woke me up again in this endless nightmare caused by the man I loved. I thought he was the one. I thought he loved me. But, no! He caused me pain and wrecked me endlessly. I met him in college while I was studying fine arts in France. He was my first at everything. At first, I thought it was love. But later on, it turned out to be a disaster. His possessiveness choked me, and I couldn't breathe. He molested me and f****d me without mercy. He hurt me many times, tied me in the basement of our house. We lived together. I don't know how long I stayed in that basement of agony. Until Frank didn't come back. I waited for him to hit and hurt me again, but no one came. I was hungered and dehydrated when my Mom and sister found me and brought me back here to Sicily. My father still doesn't accept me. So I lived and ventured alone. With the help of my mother and sister, I slowly cope up. But the ghost of my abusive past always comes back every time I fall asleep. Each time I dreamed of Frank hurting me. I always end up slashing my skin with anything sharp. Every time I saw my blood gushing out of my slashed skin, I felt calm. Then I will fall asleep. My mother always came to check on me. She has a duplicate key on my condo, so she could come anytime she wants. I know she was afraid that I would really kill myself. I am seeking death, but it didn't come. I stared at the razor blade I was holding. "It's always you and me, buddy... Thank you for your comfort." I squinted my eyes when I felt the pain as I slashed my wrist, a few inches away from the large veins. I felt the pain... It calmed me. I let my blood drip off. Then I fell asleep. I woke up feeling better. I looked at my wrist, and it has bandages now. My mom is here, sitting on the side of my bed. Her eyes were bloodshot.  "Ley, Until when will you let me worry about you?" she said, her voice quivering and shaking. "I am okay, mom." I got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Then I prepared to paint again. I have an unfinished project. "Your Dad wants you to join us for dinner." I immediately looked at her. Disbelief was written on my face. "Why?" "I don't know. Maybe it is the right time for you to reconcile? Please come, dear. Gracie and I will be happy. I have already cooked breakfast. Please eat it. I'll go ahead.” She kissed me on my forehead.  "Fine, I'll come," I said without looking at her. I got engrossed in painting, and I didn't notice the time. It is almost dinner time when I finish my project. It's a painting of a wounded person seeking self-love. That's what I lack in this life. Self-love. I prepared myself for the dinner invitation. I got there right on time. I looked around, after years, I finally came back to this house. "Ma'am Nikolette, they are in the dining room already." The servant guided me in. "Good evening,” I flatly greeted them. Gracie immediately got up and hugged me. "It's been so long... I miss you." I hugged her back. "I miss you too." My father scoffed aloud. I didn't mind him and sat down. I started to scoop food because I suddenly felt hungry. I remembered that I didn't eat the breakfast Mom cooked for me.  My father cleared his throat. "How are you, Nikola." He's the only one calling me Nikola. Mom said he's the one who personally chose my name when I was born.  "Still breathing, Dad. And I'm sorry for that." I got the pork basil. I know this is for me. Mom prepared this. "Still painting lewd things?" "I never saw my art lewd, Dad," I emphasized, calling him Dad. "I am planning an exhibit at the Sicily gallery with my co-artists next month." "Nice. I hope you will realize soon that medicine runs in your blood," he scoffed.  "It doesn't, Dad. Medicine isn't a platelet or hemoglobin," I scoffed.  "Stop being sarcastic." He dropped his fork on his plate, making a loud noise. I straightly looked at his eyes. "Did you invite me here after 6 years just to insult me and my passion, Dad? Nice. It's working. Thanks for the food, Mom, Gracie. I'll get going. I hope you'll all be okay." I wiped my lips with the table napkin, and I left them. I didn't look back even though I heard my mother and sister call me. My father will always be my number one critique. And I hate him for that. -------------- ADAM’s POV "John! I want someone to paint me nude. Definitely not you. It's embarrassing," I said to my brother, who was busy stroking the paintbrush on his canvas. "Bud, stop pestering me. I am busy." He didn't even glance at me.  "Just recommend a painter. I will be happy," I insisted. "Fine. I'll ask my friend later. Now leave me alone." "Thank you." I pinched his cheek, then I left his studio. He has his own small studio inside our mansion, while I have my own recording and music room. Our family is all artists in different fields. I look at the vacant notes for my new song. I still wanted to write a song, but I lacked inspiration. I left home and walked until my feet reached the famous bridge. This bridge was a battle place before. But one person leaning on the railings caught my attention. "Hey... Whatever your problems are, please, don't sort on killing yourself." She looked at me. I can't clearly see her face. We are on the dark side of the bridge. "I stopped seeking death. I will just wait." Then she left me alone. Ahh, weird people.