Bellissimo

CHAPTER 35

ROMAN CELESTE'S POINT OF VIEW :

"Here, rest your hand on it." I groan as I hear Rocco speak to me, "stupido ragazzo, the doctor said that 3 of your ribs are broken- and you have a mild concussion."

Great. Fucking great.

I purse my lips together but hiss out, glancing at the side mirror I can almost puke. My entire face is blue and red, like it's merry fucking Christmas.

"Adrian's on his way. And by the way- te lo sei meritato," Rocco slaps me on my sore back, making me curse at him. Stupid old people with their stupid old humor.

Deserved it? How the hell did I deserve to get beaten up, by a seventeen year old fucking girl.

Pardon me if I failed to see her as my sister, like people cannot expect me to act all giddy giddy with a fucking girl I haven't seen in a decade, even if she's my blood. And shes annoying, way too posh.

I do feel a pull towards her, but the pull is slight. But the pull gets severed whenever I look at her face, her bloody cursed face. She looks exactly like mama.

Levi and Art does too, but Katelyn- fuck.

I miss mama, I miss and love her with all my heart. I also loath her For dying, for leaving us with a shit show of a father. I hate how everyone in this family seem to forget mama, because she was a snotty woman.

I know she was detached from us, never spent any time with us. Never even breastfed us, always busy with her posh friends, doing makeup and arguing with dad.

But she was still our mama, and I hate the fact that my brothers dont even bother to celebrate her birthday, or even mourn at her death day. Her death day? Yeah it's Katelyn's birthday.

Mama's boy, I wish I could be called that. But I'd probably be Mama's boy if she ever gave a fuck about me. I followed her around everywhere, like a pet. But all she did was ignore me, throw me away- throw away her 3 year old baby boy.

I hate dad, all of us do. They hate mama too, but I don't. I don't hate her, I can't hate my mother. And katelyn's existence is a painful reminder of mama- the feeling Ive been wanting to bury for so long. Her posh behavior, her tendency to be perfect- hell everything is like her. And whenever I try to look at her, communicate with her- the same words keep chanting in my mind.

When she grows up, she's gonna be exactly like mama.

All these years, when my brothers mourned on katelyn's birthday- I sat down in my room- looking at Mama's picture. If she couldn't love her children, why have so many?

I did miss my baby sister, but the loss of mama always managed to top the feeling. I can't help but hold her as the reason, mama died. I know it's none of her fault. And it's good that Mama's dead. But I've always regarded myself, as a Mama's boy.

In school, the kids used to talk. I had a circle of friends, and they talked about their family, I used to listen- how they were so crazy close. I learnt the phrase 'mama's boy'. I thrived to be loved by my own mother, I'd given up the hope for my dad's love. But I still had a little tiny bit hope- that someday, mama may love me.

I saw mama smile for the very first time when she learned the baby she was pregnant with is going to be a girl, a little tiny smile. It had given me hope, that maybe she'll change. But it all plummeted when I heard the news of her death, on the day Katelyn was born. It is painful, really painful.

I want so badly to feel the pull towards Katelyn, to feel the surge of protectiveness towards her. Like Adrian does, or Lorenzo- even Artemis. But I fail, because all she does is remind me of mama.