Chapter 28 Chapter Twenty Seven

She opened the door and stood at the end of the room. "Go away, Elila," I called, burying my head in the covers. But instead of walking away, she came in, climbed onto the bed, and put her arms around me.I push her away. "Go away." She still doesn't move. "You know! Everyone knows, but you don't tell me." This time she lifts my shoulders and I have to look at her, "No, if I knew, would I let you marry him? I know he's messed up and he's got around. That's all I know. No When they are women, they will have sex with men. The way it is, maybe not your god intended it to be like this, but the way it is." Her rude words made me feel better, or at least made me want to listen she went on. "But most of them get married after all. The boys get dry and the women get wet for them. Or at least for the kids. So I guess he does too. If that's the case, why tell you? It's probably just It will make your first night even worse."

first night.Smart women don't die from this, but we're not at the point where we're talking about that yet. "Where's Tommaso?" I choked up. "Do you know anything about him?" She sighed and said, "He probably just took this as a game. Maybe I found out more, but nothing about the two of them. If someone spread such a rumor, I would know, but I haven't heard of it." .” "What about my mother?" "Oh, God, forgive us. Your mother didn't know about it." "Oh, but she knows! When she was young, she knew Cristoforo at court. He said he saw her there."

"So what? She was a young girl then, and she probably knew less about these things than you. How could you speculate on her like that? It would break her heart." Instead, it broke my heart. "Well. If she didn't know then, she must know now. At least about Tommaso, I can see it in her face." Elila shook her head. "Let's put it this way, many secrets are no longer secrets. It may well be that Luca, the new angel of God, said something." It seems that Tommaso's judgment is correct. "But...if no one knows...I mean, how did you find out?" "I live here, remember." She pointed to the wall.

"Do they all know?" "Of course. Believe me, if he hadn't been nice to them, they wouldn't be the only ones who would know by now. They liked him, even his crimes." She paused and said, "And you too. That's the worst." She stayed with me until I fell asleep, but the pain crept into my dreams, and that night I dreamed again that I was being tormented by poisonous snakes.I woke up screaming.The room was dead silent, and there was no movement. Ilila's floor by the door was empty, and the darkness howled in my ears, and I could almost hear the rustling of vipers in it.I broke out in a cold sweat: I was locked in a sinful room, and the devil was coming to take me away.I boldly got up from the bed and lit the lamp.Desperately, I flung myself into my case, and from the bottom pulled out my drawing paper, charcoal, and quill.There are many ways to pray.I would rather pray to God through my paintbrush, and draw a picture of the Madonna, who can intercede to God for me.

My hand shaking the black charcoal I haven't touched in weeks has dulled the tip.I retrieved the pocket knife wrapped in Dad's fabric and began sharpening the end, the soft scraping sounds familiar.Suddenly, the blade slipped and I made a long gash on the inside of my forearm. Blood gushed out immediately, and it looked very bright against the skin.This vibrant color cannot be dyed by any pigment.I watched blindly as the line of blood grew thicker, ran down my arm, and began to drip onto the floor.What if I painted this story in blood?The thought made me shudder.I took out a small china dish that I used to store spices in the summer and put it under the wound.The drops pooled in a stream on the skin, and then fell heavily on the saucer, and soon they formed a narrow pool of blood.This is the liquid of life (God's ink), too precious for drawing paper.Pain will follow soon, soon... First I'll have to pick out a paintbrush, made of the fattest mink tail that ends as light as sunlight.The polished mirror reflected my body, sweating skin glistening in the light.Now, my husband and my brother are greedily entwined, and I'll never know what they feel like.My body was still virgin territory to me, untouched; no one came to touch my skin or admire its beauty.I dipped the tip of the brush in the blood and drew a cold, wet line from my left shoulder to my breast; the color was scarlet, like a flag against my skin.

"……Oh my God……" She grabbed me, and the porcelain plate shattered on the floor, blood splattered everywhere. "leave me alone." She snatched the paintbrush out of my hand, grabbed my arm, and held it high.Her fingers clamped into my flesh like a vice, stopping the blood flow. "Leave me alone, Ilila," I yelled again, my voice full of anger. "I don't care about you. You are still dreaming. You are seriously injured. I will get you some medicine." She grabbed the nightgown with her other hand and wrapped it tightly around the wound. "You hurt me. Leave me alone."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I said again and again, the laughter turning to tears and the wounds aching like a branding iron, drawing my willpower away from self-pity.