Venomous Mistake
This is Marco and Clara's brutal/sexy story.
Clara
Revenge was my goal-to take down the enemy. I've trained under my Uncle, but everything crumbles when my foolish heart starts beating for a man I shouldn't want. Rule one-seek veng...
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Warning. This chapter may be sensitive to some readers.
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"What do you mean you drank all of our money, Ruben?" My mother shouts, her voice cracking because of the hurt she continuously felt when my father sought comfort at bars and gambling. She never mentioned it to me and put on her brightest smile as if I wouldn't know. The arguments came every weekend, and I stopped crying many years ago.
It's just my life at eight years old. Mama and Papa would fight, and I played with my books in my room, minding my business.
I've become numb to their regular arguments about money, Uncle Javier or something about Mama having another man. I don't feel anything because I don't want to. The quarrels enter one ear and leave the next despite it's recurrence.
It hurt when Papa slammed that door and called it a night. The house would stay quiet until Mother barged through my door and acted like nothing happened. I played along because I wouldn't see her for the whole day since she had to work. I'd go to school, fix myself dinner and do my homework alone until the weekends happened—not that I have difficulty with assignments. I am ahead of my class and think I'm in the wrong grade.
It used to hurt more when I saw the students parents picking them up in shiny cars, kissing them goodbye, and showing affection. Don't get me wrong, Mama shows me all the attention and love that she gives, but although Papa pays the factura de Electricidad and puts comida on the table, he likes staying by himself.
I don't bother interacting with him when he sometimes comes around, but I learned Mama's manners and greeted him. He'd answer, and that was that. I've learned to accept my life for what it was. I dont know if he is proud of me like Mama is, but thats alright.
A loud crash pulled me out of my book, and I was about to zone out again when Papa yelled his following words. "And Clara? When will you stop lying to her? You had years to come clean, Anita. Do you think it doesn't hurt me to look at her? The entire community can see it, and I've been the joke of the town for years!"
"Don't bring my daughter into this." Mama hissed. I don't know how she could switch sides and be okay with it. It must be exhausting, no? To yell one minute, then cry the other and smile right after. Mama is a strong woman if that were the case.
"Oh, por el amor de dios, Anita!" My father mocked. "Tu nunca me amaste. Nunca." His voice cracks, and I'm unmoving on my bed at how his voice cracks. Papas voice never cracks. That's not true! Mama loves him, but he doesnt want to see that, or was it another switch that she could flick off and on?
I furrowed my brows. Should I be thinking anything or, worse, listening? This argument has never come up, but Papa mentioned my name. Nobody would ignore something after that.
