"It is not the bruises on the body that hurt. It is the wounds of the heart and the scars on the mind." -Aisha Mirza

I wake up to the feeling of warmth and the sound of heavy snoring. I feel a heavy weight on my leg and stomach. I open my eyes, instantly being blinded by the bright light of the sun seeping in my room through the window. I squint my eyes until they fully adjust to the light. My whole body hurts. Maybe I should see if I can find some sort of pain medication.

I look down at body to find the source of the heavy weight I feel on my body and to find the source or sources of the snoring. I have to restrain a giggle that wants to leave my lips at the sight that greets my eyes.

My brothers all pilled up on both my bed and the floor. I'm in between Mateo and Elijah, Mateo with his somewhat muscular arm draped over my stomach. Ilias sleeping at the foot of my bed with his head using my stomach as his own personal pillow with him all curled up into a fetus position, mumbling incoherent words in his sleep. Aww! Theo taking up the little bit of space that is left on my bed. With one of his legs draped over Ilias's torso and the other hanging off the bed while his head lay on Mateo's shin. Not to mention his loud snoring. On the floor lay the other 3 of my brothers, even Alessandro, with blankets and pillows making the carpet barely visible. Ricardo being another source of snoring. Instead of laying his head on a pillow Leonardo ended up with his head resting on Ricardo's stomach. While Alessandro remained looking graceful and dignified even while asleep. Here I was thinking that was impossible.

My head is pounding. Why did I cry so mu-Oh my god John is back! He was going to hit me. While my family was there, oh now they're really going to ask me questions. What if I tell them the truth and they don't want me anymore? What if they treat me differently after learning how damaged I am? But what if just maybe they do want me even after they learn about how...broken I am. I mean they protected me from him yesterday and slept in here with me to make sure I'm ok, right?-my ramble is cut short-My dress, where is my dress? Who changes me?

I'm wearing one of the pairs of shorts that they bought during our shopping adventure and an unknown hoodie. A groggy voice brings me out of my thoughts as I glance over at my side to see Mateo's dark brown eyes squinting, still adjusting to the bright light. "Are you ok, Sole? You look a little distressed." Mateo's morning voice questioned me as he finally stopped squinting his eyes as they got adjusted to the light in my room. (Sole-sunshine)

"Oh, It-um-it's just I was w-wondering, who changed me? And, uh, who's hoodie is this?" I murmured questioningly.

Mateo's face became stained with a tint of red at my questioned as he immediately shot up from his laying position next to me. Causing Theo's head to fall onto the bed swiftly causing him to wake up making cussing under his breath. As he looked towards Mateo and I even though Mateo paid him no attention as Mateo suddenly blurted out, "itwasoneofthemaidsnoneofusIswear."

Theodore looked between me and Elijah with one of his eyebrows raised questioningly. I looked at Mateo waiting for him to repeat what he just said so that maybe this time I could understand him.

"You wanna maybe repeat that mio caro fratello idiota. This better be good since you woke me up because of it." Theodore fumed obviously annoyed that he was awoken from his slumber, muttering the last part. (mio caro fratello idiota-my dear idiot brother)

Mateo heaved a deep sigh, calming himself down before repeating his statement. "Isabella, I swear it was one of the maids who changed you, none of us!" Mateo squealed, embarrassed by this whole situation. That makes 2 of us. I let out a sigh of relief from his words no longer having to worry about this. Theodore looked between the two of us before it clicked in his head as to what was happening.

The awkward atmosphere between the 3 of us was broken when a throat was cleared in the room making all of us look over towards my desk to see Alessandro standing. Evident that he just woke up as his hair was messier than usual and instead of his fancy, business clothes he was wearing black sweat pants with a usual light grey t-shirt.

"Isabella, I'm sure you know but we have questions. Questions that you need to answer. Starting with whatever the hell that was that happened yesterday." Alessandro stated calm yet sternly.

I sat on the couch bouncing my leg up and down nervously. Waiting for the questions to start. Sitting in the living room, feeling the eyes of my entire family watching me, as I squirm under their never moving, never blinking gazes. My father and brothers sat on the giant L shaped couch but seeing as it still couldn't fit my big and muscular family members, some of my brothers had to sit on the floor. As I sat in a chair they had placed across from the couch.

Making this situation feel more and more like an interrigation. Which I guess, in a way, it sort of is.

"Principessa, will you please tell us what that bastard did to you." Dad pleaded with me. "You don't have to tell us everything, hell please just say something. We-we just Isabella we're worried about you, whatever you say, whatever happened to you, I promise that we will not care. We love you too much to judge you for anything that you say. Please, just tell us what's wrong, so we can help."

Love. They love, me? But it's impossible to love me. He must be lieing, right?

Dad got up from his spot on the couch, beginning to kneel in front of me. Taking ahold of my small hand into his large, calloused hand. I looked my father in his eyes that showed nothing but desperation and truthfulness. He-he does love me. Alright, if they can find the strength to love me then, I can find the strength to tell them what they ask to know. I might as well start from the beginning.

"As you all know, I grew up in the foster system, but none of you know what the foster system is like." I paused to take another breath, this time to prepare myself for telling people what I've never told anyone before. My story. My truth.

"The earliest memory I have is when I was around 3. I was crying-for whatever reason-and the foster family I was with, just watched me do so. I just sat there crying in the corner as they played happily with their son, ever so often making glances or a mean comment at me. I wish that I could say this was the worst thing that happened to me."

I take another pause to let that little bit sink in. I look up to see complete bewilderment on their faces with some sadness too.

"The next thing I remember is being thrown out of the house of the same foster family, during mid December so it was really cold outside, they said it was because I didn't deserve to be in the same house as them anymore. They were kind enough to give me a thin gray blanket to sleep with. I literally had to sleep in the dog house that night, alone, because the dog was more deserving of the warmth of the house than me. Thankfully one of the neighbors called cps the morning I slept in the freezing winter." Coldness sweeps through my voice. Talking about it brings back the feeling of coldness I felt that night. I shiver just at the thought of it.

"How could someone do that?" Ricardo quietly whispers more to himself than any of us.

"Why would someone only call child services after the incident occured?" Leonardo asked, I've been wondering that since I was 4.

"Chiaramente e perché sono stupidi stronzi" Theo quickly retorted to answer Leonardo's question. (Chiaramente e perché sono stupidi stronzi-clearly it's because they are stupid assholes)

Dad simply shook his head solemnly, running his free hand through his black but graying hair. As his other gave my hand a comforting squeeze. Alessandro tilted his head back with his arms sprawled out on the top of the couch, I waited until everyone else had quieted down before continuing.

"I was six when I was hit for the first time, it was my first abusive foster home." Before I could continue Alessandro got up, beginning to punch a hole in the living room wall. Then coming to take the same spot he was on before. Everyone looked completely fine with the fact that the calmest brother in our household just punched a hole in our living room wall! My dad gave me a nod, silently telling me that it was fine and to just keep going.

"At the time, my foster father's name was Sam Smith. He was in his mid forties and his favorite hobby was to drink alcohol. Back then I thought he actually wanted me, but looking back I realize all he wanted was for someone to take his frustrations out on. The first time he hit me I hadn't picked a beer bottle off the ground because I didn't see it. That earned me a slap to the face and a punch to my stomach. Luckily, after just 10 months he decided that he didn't want me anymore."

This part of my story I am actually excited to tell them about.

"I ended up being in a mix of group homes 5 months after Sam gave me away. The next family that took me in were really nice. They were Stella and Caleb Simpson, they also had a daughter who was around 15 at the time, Lora Simpson. All of them treated me as their own daughter/sister. In fact, they were planning on adopting me. But then..." I trail off. I felt something on my cheek that I went to wipe only to realize that I'm crying.

At seeing my tears, Ilias and Mateo joined dad on the floor comforting me, the best way they could. Ilias gave me a hug. "It's ok sissy, you don't have to tell us, if you don't want to." Ilias whispered attempting, and succeeding in soothing me. "I-it's ok. I'm going to have to talk about it eventually." I murmured.

"After spending a little over a year there, Lora got into a car accident with her aunt. Her aunt died on impact. Lora was on life support for 2 days before she passed away from her injuries. Afterwards, Stella and Caleb said that they were very sorry but the thought of raising, adopting, and caring for another child after theirs had passed so suddenly they just couldn't do it. So I was sent back to a group home." At this point more tears have fallen, leaving my eyes to look even puffier than before.

I gave him the best smile I can muster up, "it's not your fault, none of this is, I was kidnapped, nothing you or anyone else could have done to prevent it." I sniffled at him with my pitiful excuse for a smile slowly fading.

With the room now in complete silence I kept going.

"After I was put back I was put in a few more neglectful and abusive homes. Soon I was placed with my most recent foster family." I visibly gulped. More tears fell from my eyes. I knew I was going to have to talk about them eventually.

I had to take deep breaths to prepare myself for talking about them.

"The first day with John and Larissa was perfect, wonderful even. But as the saying goes 'if things are too good to be true then they probably aren't' that's exactly how it was. On the morning of the second day I was given a list of rules to follow. Never tell anyone about the abuse, always be home by 4:00, don't talk unless spoken to, and never try to run away. At first I was so confused because of numbers 1 and 2. What abuse they didn't even yell yesterday? Why couldn't I talk freely like yesterday? But then I saw the devilish looks on their faces. Being as stupid as I am, I just disregarded the rules and continued on with asking them what the rules meant. They both started cackling which just ended up confusing me even more." More tears streamed from my eyes at the memory of their awful cackling.

"It's ok angelo, we have you now, nothing nor no one is ever going to hurt you again." Elijah softly spoke the familiar words to me once again. I have to admit the words comforted me so I kept talking. (Angelo-angel)

"Larissa pushed me to the ground off the stool I was sitting on and immediately started kicking me. John soon walked over with a knife in hand and he..." I started crying more and more at what he had done. It will forever be engraved on my body. Never fading or going away. My family members all made quick glances between each other, I could instantly tell they were silently communicating with each other. "What did he do?" My father asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

I couldn't tell them as the ability to form words left me. Even if I could, I wouldn't be able to describe that moment. I simply did the best thing I could do, just showed them. I lifted up the hoodie just enough to show them the awful scar on my lower abdomen. The word 'slut' that has been forever engraved into my skin. Gasps were heard around the room. A few tears left Mateo and Ilias's eyes, even dad's eyes were glazed over. I brought the hoodie back down to once again cover the scar that was engraved into me what felt like decades ago.

"After that the place was a living hell hole. My room became a cold basement. I slept on an old mattress, my only source of warmth being one of my 3 hoodies and the pants that I had on. T-they had a room for me, they called it my p-punish-punishment room. Inside of that room horrible things happened, things that I don't want to ever speak about." I grimaced at the memories that flooded my mind of what happened there.

"On my 12th birthday, John said that I could be more useful so he invited his friends over and..." I started crying uncontrollably. Rage filled all of their eyes. "Did they...Did they?" Leonardo seemed as if he couldn't bring himself to finish asking his question. Without him finishing his question I knew what he was trying to ask. The answer to the question, well, I think we all know it. I weakly nodded my head, I started crying harder than I have ever cried before, more than I thought possible to cry. But there I sat on the interrogation chair, surrounded by my family, balling my eyes out all while shaking a scary amount.

Both Mateo and Ilias started crying along with me. I didn't even see dad move but the next thing I knew was his big muscular arms wrapping around me in a very comforting embrace that helped calm me down. For the first time in my life I felt safe and loved with the thing that kids my age normally get everyday. A hug. I couldn't help but block the rest of the world out. In this very moment nothing else matters except for the comforting feeling I get from just my father's very fatherly hug.

I felt my eyes slowly close shut on their own and I simply rested my head on my father's rather big shoulder before shutting my eyes.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm really sorry for the delayed chapter. But the end of the year school tests are coming up so I probably won't be posting very often (not that I normally do). I really hope you enjoyed this chapter :)