Recalled To Life novel Chapter 3

"You'll lie on your back, and I'll sit on you," he said.

"Are you retarded? You have to lie down and I'll sit on you; otherwise it's not real," I replied.

"Why can't I lie down?" He asked innocently.

I realized he did not really understand what went into whom and in what pose it was possible, so I agreed to his offer. I lay down, and he sat down on my knees.

"It hurts; sit forward," I screamed.

"Then we will change, I will lie down, and you will sit on me," he replied.

Now that it was the proper position, I sat straight on his groin area, and then he screamed in pain and grabbed his testicles with both hands as he tossed me off him and writhed in pain. Then, I realized that I had crushed his balls when I dropped myself on him with all my weight.

We waited for about half an hour for him to calm down before we said goodbye and each retired to his room. After that, I never saw Roberto again, although we returned in August a year later to the same hotel that my parents and Mussolini loved so much.

This routine lasted for many months until Marco came into our lives. Marco was ten years younger than Mom, they met in circumstances I do not know about, but it has been impossible to separate them since then.

I cannot say bad things about him, but also nothing very positive. He was all concentrated on my mother's curves; he did not take his eyes off her for a moment. His long octopus hands were glued to her limbs on every occasion she was in. For example, when we ate lunch, he held her hand and prevented her from using her knife, "Eat with your fork, some populations eat with one hand because the other is for wiping their ass and they won’t use this hand to eat" he would tell my mother as she tried to pull her hand. At times, his obsession infuriated her, and then he was offended like a spoiled child and apologized to her in a childish voice.

Our financial situation deteriorated considerably, and Marco had to contribute his share of the cost of living. He worked as a tour guide and made good money, and knew places and tourist sites that I would never have reached without Marco. You could say that life would have continued quietly if Marco's long octopus-like hands had not crept towards me as well. I thought naively that Marco had taken the place of my late father, and his hugs are from a father's love to his daughter. Still, my mother interpreted things differently. One day after seeing him carrying me like a sack of flour on his back, holding my small buttocks, she told him he had to leave the house; otherwise, she would complain to the police.