Special mass release for the novel's launch, 09/20.
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MIA
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They left me alone for two weeks, and when I thought I was finally free, two weeks before mama's and zio Ricco's marriage, nonna Giulia, mama's mama, was the one to come after all. Probably because she's my favorite elder out of the four. But she was not in the most bending mood when she knocked in my door, 7 pm.
I had just come out of the bathroom and as I had washed my hair, it was longer than it is when dry and falling over my back and shoulders, covering the tattoo adorning my back, which only Leo and Luigi know about, since I changed in front of them before, because they are 100% gay and I feel comfortable with them to do so. My dark red towel was wrapped around my body, and I had my red Jimmy Choo slippers on.
"Mia belle, open this door," she knocked on it, "before I break it down."
Giggling with the aggressiveness I also took from her, I walked to the door and opened it for her, "Nonna," I bowed softly, as I saw her standing some good 7 cm taller than me as always, hands on her hips, light green eyes narrowed, mirroring my own except for hers being big and doe shaped, and jaw clenched. "Want to yell at me on the hallway, or inside my chambers?"
"Hah, silvery tongued as always, mia belle," she purred but I noticed that she wasn't really angry, probably just putting up a front. "I'll come in!"
Nodding respectfully, I opened it wider and as she came inside, I closed them again, and pressed my back on the door, staring as she took in how I had moved my stuff around my new room. Inspecting. And thankfully she seemed pleased by Black Swan violin version (by BTS) by Joel Sunny that was playing on repeat in a low sound. Probably because it's just the violin and the son is majestic.
"Now this room looks like you," she said softly, sitting on the edge of my bed, making herself comfortable, as always. "Black and red are indeed your colors, aren't it? It suit you amazingly well. That's why your mama chose the bridesmaids dresses to be red, because it suits your sisters, Ricco's daughters, and you."
I swallowed, not as comfortable as everyone else with all this. "You didn't come after me, after two weeks, just to discuss colors, did you, nonna?" I cut the chase, before she could start beating around the bush, and she tensed up, proving my point. "You can tell me, I won't freak out."
She narrowed her eyes, "Are you sure? Because that's all you've been doing since Chris passed away, mia belle. Which I totally understand. Not as much as you do, because I've never been there, but I also lost my papa young and he was very close to me."
Inhaling deeply, I controlled my emotions.
"I just disagree with how they all act as if they expected me to be done with my grieve so soon, nonna. I'm hurting, and no one, or nothing anyone do or say, will be able to stop this heart-wrenching feeling that has been consuming me. My siblings don't understand, they were not there, they were never that close to papa like I was, with all due respect, he was more my famiglia than any of you."
Sighing, I slid my body down until I sat on the ground, legs stretched.
"The Campobello kids don't get it either, nonna. Sure, they lost zia Sasha when they were 9, 10, 11, and 12, but it's not the fucking same. They were here, in Italy, in Milan. They were at home, cozy and protected. They only heard about it, that zia Sasha died in the plane crash, they didn't even see her body because they were too young, and they were a world away from her, as it crashed in Australia."
Anxiously, I caressed my still wet hair, desperate to do something with my hands, not to let it show how they were shaken. How pathetic I look now.
"I was turning 15 that day, I was alone with papa in Massachusetts. As it was a weekend in MIT, he took me to Boston, minutes from Cambridge, to spend a day just him and me. We were going to go shopping, roller skate a bit, watch a movie, and then have dinner with zia Nila."
I felt my eyes inevitably burning, and I quickly covered my face with my hands. Refusing to let nonna see the tears falling.
"I…" my voice cracked. "It was me who asked papa to go to the bank, and take more money so he could buy a new car for Nila, because hers had broken down, and I didn't think it would be a problem, since papa was intending on proposing to her soon. I… it was my fault, nonna. It was me who asked him to go there, and he only went because I asked. Not even 7 minutes after we managed to talk with the manager, the criminal arrived to assault the bank."
She didn't say a word, I felt mentally thankful for it. Rising my head, I stared at my hands, seeing papa's blood on it. Every tear that fell was a drop of blood from his lifeless body.
"He had countless guns with him, enough to cause a massacre in there, and papa got scared for myself. I wasn't scared, but he was for me. Then, the fucker made us hostages, and when he was going to hold me under the gun, papa put… he…" my voice broke again, "he put himself in my place. I was the one who was supposed to have been shot in the head and heart like that, nonna, not papa. It was all my fault, I should have been the one to die there, not him. It… it was not fair."
My shoulders shook as the tears fell, broken and burning.