THIRTY ONE
Larissa Cohen screamed herself awake after yet another nightmare.
It was exactly the same as every other o
nightmare that she had suffered with for years, happening ever since her father had died right in front of her.
His last radio message.
The sound of the crash.
The flames.
The look in her father's eyes.
The explosion.
Tears escaped the dark brown eyes of the Cohen girl, flooding down her cheeks like a waterfall and showed no sign of stopping.
Her eyes glanced around her childhood bedroom, since she had returned to São Paulo after spending a few days in Milan with Pierre, and found the room completely empty.
Just like the rest of the house.
It hurt, knowing that every single time that she had woken up from a nightmare whilst in her father's house, that the place was empty, making her heart ache even more than it did every single day.
She doubted that the feeling would ever go away, and whilst part of her wanted to sell the property, so that she wouldn't have to be constantly reminded of the lack of her father, the other part of her refused to sell it, because of all of the happy memories that she had within the house.
Most of which, were with her father.
She pulled herself up and out of her bed, as her feet were dragging towards a room that she had not entered in years.
Her father's.
She pushed the door open, hearing the creak of the door as she was able to step in to the room, immediately feeling shivers down her spine.
Goosebumps licked her skin as her feet stepped on to the cold floor, the scent of her father filling the room and invading her nose.
Despite all of the windows being closed, a gust of wind blew around the Brazilian, warming up her ice cold skin and blowing her dark hair backwards and out of her tear stained face.
She seemed to freeze in her spot, in the middle of the room as she heard a creak of a floorboard.
Her eyes cast down to the floor, where her foot was, seeing a loose floorboard underneath her heel, making her crouch to examine it.
Her fingers pushed at the loose floorboard, seeing it wobble as it moved, as she began to pull the loose floorboard out of its hole.
"What the..."
Larissa whispered quietly to herself, pulling out an old diary that was wedged deep down in the gap that was underneath the floorboard.
She slowly peeled open the diary, with her dark brown eyes widening at the sight of the writing that was inked down on the first page.
"To my beautiful anjo, Larissa."
She read to herself, reading the writing throughout the diary, and found herself frantically wiping at the tears that once again ran down her cheeks.
It was her fathers writing, explaining to her what to do if he never made it back home after a race, and who to trust and go to.
As well as who to not trust along with a warning and it made her blood run cold.
Your Grandfather.
Your mother.
Pete, the neighbour.
YOU ARE READING
LEGACY/// FORMULA ONE (3)
FanfictionLarissa Cohen was fighting the legacy of her father, who she witnessed die in a crash at the Italian Grand prix, at Monza, when she was eight years old. She fought for her name, her father, her uncles, for women. But the worst struggle of all, was...
