Where I Belong - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

I sat in the corner of the living room with my back pressed against the cold wall. I pulled my legs to my chest and kept my head down, making me seem as small and invisible as possible. The room was quiet, except from the occasional groan coming from across the room.
My mother, Camila, had been sprawled over the sofa since late last night when she came back smelling of drugs and alcohol. I couldn't think of a time when my mother wasn't under the influence of something and I had learned early on not to expect anything else.
I had long mastered the skill of staying unnoticed. Most of the time. A shiver ran through me as I thought of the times I hadn't been small enough, or quiet enough.
After a few moments of near silence, there was a knock at the door. I froze. At first it was just a light tap, barely audible unless you were listening for it, but I always was. I had to be.
The knocking grew louder and more violent. The person was now pounding at the door and I didn't need to go and check who it was. The voice which followed was unmistakable.
"Camila?", Roger's voice boomed from behind the door. My heart rate sped up. I knew better than to make a sound.
I shrunk further into the corner, as if trying to blend myself into the wall behind me.
TW: Abuse
"Camila, open the fucking door right now!", he yelled, his boot kicking the door in annoyance.
I heard him enter before I even saw him. His presence made the air feel thicker, almost suffocating me. My eyes squeezed shut and my body was trembling, but I didn't dare move.
The door was fully opened now and I could hear him come closer and closer into the room where I was hiding in.
"Where the fuck is she?", he said, his voice low and steady, as if he was trying to suppress something.
I knew he had seen me, but I was too scared to open my eyes and see the look on his face. The coldness in his eyes and the way his jaw tightened - it was always the same.
I didn't move. I couldn't. Just as I thought he might say something else, I heard him walk away. I froze, unsure of what just happened, or what might happen next.
The crash came unexpectedly. A loud thud, followed by the sound of something breaking. Before I even had the chance to guess what it was, the sight of a jagged beer bottle was in my eyesight. I didn't even have time to react before I was flipped onto her stomach and my shirt was raised.
"What word should I teach you today?", he whispered to himself before grabbing the glass shard.
Then came the pain.
He started to carve something on my back. The pain was indescribable as tears were leaking out of my eyes. My mouth opened, a scream threatening to rip through me, but I knew better. The sounds of my suffering would only spur him on, so I did what I did best. I stayed quiet.
Rule 1: You deserve all the pain we give you
By the time he was done, sweat was glistening on my forehead from the pain and black spots clouded my vision as I was close to losing consciousness.
The last thing I remembered was Roger spotting my mother across the room and dragging her out of the house. The door slammed behind them, and then everything went black.
It was hours later - I wasn't sure exactly how long - until I heard another knock at the door. This time, I didn't recognise the voices on the other side, but I knew the rules.
Rule 3: Never open the door to anyone except Roger or Camila.
Panic rose in my chest. I quickly checked the wounds on my back, making sure they were dry and the other bruises I had were covered, just like I was told to do. Once I was sure everything was as it should be, I returned to my corner. My eyes were fixed on the door and I could now hear hushed voices on the other side, along with the faint sound of police sirens.
"Is anyone inside?", I heard a voice say from outside.
Rule 2: Don't speak until commanded to.
I kept my mouth shut and covered my ears with my hands, wishing I could just disappear.
"We're coming in", the voice called, just before the door creaked open and two police officers stepped into the room.
The male officer entered first, freezing when he took in the sight of the messy room – bottles scattered everywhere and bloodstains covering the carpet.
Rule 4: Clean up the mess. That is one of the only things you're good for.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I realised I had broken one of the rules. I was in too much pain but that didn't matter. I was still going to get punished for it.
Before I could even process it fully, the female officer had crossed the room and crouched down in front of me.
"Hi, honey. Are you ok?", she asked in a gentle voice.
I was confused. I was nobody, yet this police officer was speaking to me with such kindness. I didn't know what to do so I kept my head down and remained silent.
The officer sighed softly, then sat down beside me.
"My name's Officer Jones, but you can call me Dina. You're Olivia, right?", her voice so quiet and kind, I subconsciously nodded.
"Olivia", she continued, her tone calm but serious. "We need you to come to the station with us. There's been an accident. Your mother and her friend Roger...they didn't make it."
My heart stopped.
They didn't make it. That didn't make sense. I had just seen them. I had just seen my mother on the sofa. I had just heard Roger's voice. They were here, weren't they?
"Olivia, honey, you're going to be okay. We're going to take you down to the station, and we'll get a DNA test done to see if you have any other family who can take you in. I know this is a lot to process, but we'll figure this out. I promise."
The drive to the station was a blur. I couldn't make sense of anything.
When we arrived, I was taken into a small room that smelled like antiseptic. A woman in a white lab coat greeted me and explained she'd be taking a blood sample to confirm my identity and compare my DNA.
The test was quick and then I was led into another room which contained a desk and a small sofa opposite it.
"It'll be a couple of hours until we get the results back", Officer Jones said, settling at her desk to complete some paperwork. "You can wait here."
I knew I wouldn't be able to relax, so I sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, staring blankly at the clock on the wall.
Two and a half hours passed, and during that time, Officer Jones kept asking me if I wanted anything to eat or drink, but I knew better.
Rule 5: You don't deserve anything. Only what we give you.
Finally, Dina closed her laptop and walked over, sitting on the other side of the sofa.
"The test results came back," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "You have family Olivia. We've found them. Five older brothers. They've been looking for you."
Her words didn't register right away. Brothers? I'd always been an only child. My mother had never mentioned anything about other children. For as long as I've known, it's only been me. I wanted to speak, to ask questions, but my throat felt tight, like I couldn't force the words out.
"We'll get in touch with them as soon as possible," Dina continued. "They're your family, Olivia. And they've finally found you. It's all going to be okay."
More family? More people meant more hurt, more pain – and I wasn't sure I could survive any more of it.