Sage Roman. The Mafia Princess of the Italian's. The only little girl to be born in several generations. She was the light of the Roman families lives. Except for her mother Elaine. She grew jealous of her daughter getting the attention of not only...
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When I was brought up I was taught that crying makes you weak. It makes you vulnerable and shows weakness. A single tear could mean so much. It is the wall between all the pain, sadness, and anger slightly breaking. Slightly coming down exposing you to others. Yet, a single tear could also mean happiness, love, light. Which is why I don't see the big deal in it. Why people think it shows weakness. Makes you weak.
Yet, I don't remember the last time I cried. Lie
The last time I broke down into someones arms. Felt the sobs rack though my body like a tidal wave. Letting my wall crack or even completely tumble at all. The last time I tasted the saltiness of the tears left on my rosy cheeks. Or felt the burning of my green eyes turn red and sore temporarily.
But that's the thing. As much and I hate how people view crying I can never bring myself to do it anymore. That thought, that way of viewing was drilled into me to the point where I have no control over it. I have no control over my own body but at the same time I do. It weird they way I am. The way I seem.
I have been beaten and bruised yet still hold my head up high like nothing happened. I have scars mentally and physically yet still show confidence and power in my own body. I feel as if I am losing control. Slipping every second of everyday yet still have a significant hold over my emotions. Over my mind and body. Some might view it as being strong while others view it as being damaged goods.
I know how or what I view myself as but it still never brought the streams down my face.
~
Honestly I am not really sure how long I was standing on the deck watching the sunrise. After the nightmare last night I wasn't able to sleep. I get them often, the nightmares. Some are worse than others. But all of them are from there. What they did to me will forever live in my mind, in my body. No matter how hard I try to forget or put a brave face I know it will never work.
"I know you're hiding something."
I kept my face neutral and head forward looking at the view. No matter how quiet my father was I could still feel him. Though he might not know that. I knew exactly when he came out here to sit with me. Just never acknowledged him.
"I don't know what you mean." I replied back. My voice hoarse and cold.
"You don't have to tell me you know. Whatever your hiding is personal. Just because I remember you doesn't mean you remember me." He said again. To this I did turn and face him. My forest green orbs locking with his chocolate brown ones with specs of honey in them.
"I have only been in your care for a handful of days. How could you possibly know I have something to hide?" I asked. My tone and gaze cold. Yet he held the gaze.
He held my gaze for a second before speaking out. Completely ignoring my question. "They don't have that sparkle anymore."
