𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝

1

(I would like to add a disclaimer at the start of this chapter because the one at the end is too late, the man she meets in this chapter is NOT the love interest. Matteo does not have a man bun there is no need to panic)

valentina

"Oh for fucks sake." I curse at the freezing cold water flowing from my shower, the result of me not paying for hot water this month. Scrubbing the rest of my body clean as quickly as I can, I hop out of the shower wrapping a towel around my figure.

I dry myself off and slip on a pair of blue sleep shorts and an oversized white top before brushing through my damp hair and putting it up into a messy bun on the top of my head, my mid length hair only just reaching.

Sitting down in front of my full length mirror, I apply my moisturiser, put a load of castor oil on my eyelashes and put some lip balm on. After finishing my nightly routine I pull out my journal and crystals, walking over to sit with my legs hanging out of my small crappy window that over looks my neighbourhood.

I write about my day, and a bit about my crystals before leaving them on the outer bit of my windowsill to charge in the full moon.  

Spirituality is a big part of my life since I never grew up around any organised religion. During all of the late nights at the orphanage there never was a book telling me how to live my life, or a preacher of it's word, all I had was the moon and the stars and that was enough for me.

I would find scrap pieces of paper and use the odd pencil that I found to record little drawings of each of the moon phases, I had no way of knowing the real names until I went to the library years later. I would create my own meanings to them and on different moons remind myself of different things, to me my spirituality was whatever I needed it to be.

It was the little things like that, that kept me going all of those years because all I had to rely on was myself. I found wisdom in myself, peace in myself and other levels of understanding that I just couldn't find from anyone else.

I had to experience what people like to call 'the real world' at such a young age that I guess I matured from it, not by choice but by force- I adapted to survive the situations that I was being placed in unwillingly.

Pulling up my fluffy white covers I attempt to get as comfortable as possible in my rock hard bed, knowing well and truly that I will never get a good nights sleep without any disruptions from my dreams which are more like nightmares.

A couple hours later I shoot up from my bed as a bead of sweat trickles down the side of my face, that cold showers sounding real nice right now.

Falling back onto the solid mattress I sigh, staring up at my blank ceiling with bad thoughts swirling through my head, the result of my latest nightmare.

Why can't I just be normal?

Was I a serial killer in my past life or something cause damn I'm dealing with some bad karma.

I obviously wasn't good enough for my parents since I ended up in an orphanage at the big age of 1, it only took 12 months for them to get so sick of me they had to leave me somewhere with my name written on the back of a playing card.

They didn't even bother using plain paper.

Just by my luck I ended up in the worst orphanage in New York, but I'd rather not get into that right now, cause it's a lot to unpack.

I lay completely still in my bed for hours on end until sunlight floods my room, forcing my body to wake with it. My body shuts off but my mind never does, even when I do manage to sleep I just wake back up again in a couple hours so my constant attempts are futile.