She's an innocent girl who lived with her alcoholic abusive father. Her life was barley manageable, especially when she was separated from her biological family at such a young age.
When her father mysteriously dies from a car crash, she's taken to...
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PLEASE DON'T BE A SILENT READER!
AZALEA'S POV:
TW: SMALL MENTION(S) OF NEEDLES
THE ONE thing I had tried so desperately to prevent. The one thing I'd promised I would protect with my life. The one thing I didn't have to feel insecure of, because no one knew.
My scars.
A piece of me I hung onto. A secret piece of me; one that no one but two dead people knew about. It's not secret anymore. I feel naked, exposed. I feel defenceless.
My secret was exposed while I was unconscious.
Now I'm conscious and wishing I was dead.
I try to gulp in preparation to face them, a nervous habit of mine. But I fail, considering there's still a massive tube shoved down my throat. I close my eyes.
I'm fine, this is fine. It was going to happen one way or another..
Tears threaten to slip out.
"..Azalea?" A drained voice calls out.
My eyelids part. Everyone's here now.
Everyone except.. Giovanni?
"Yes?" I smile.
"Are you.. okay?" Aidan asks, concerned.
Elliott looks like he's seen a ghost. He's scared of me.
"Yes, just peachy! But can I get this tube out of me? It's.. annoying." I beam.
Nicholas nods and dashes out of the room.
Silence settles in the room.
I take deep breaths.
It's no longer an option, it has to be okay.
For now, at least.
The tension is easily noticeable, all of us just there, staring at one another.
"Why'd you faint, Azzy?" Aidan breaks the silence, a small smile on his face.
I inhale a sharp breath. I open my mouth to speak; nothing comes out.
I know why I fainted. I fainted because of the occurring, overwhelming thoughts that can never seem to leave me alone. I fainted because I haven't had a full meal for as long as I can remember. I fainted because I haven't eaten in 4 whole days, and I can't eat without guilt and fear drowning out the needs to eat.
As much as I long to say that, to finally express myself, let it all out, I don't. I keep my mouth shut. I let them believe whatever they want to. I'll allow them to think I'm perfectly fine, because I am. Stefano's gone, Mary is dead, and I'm fine. I'll just let them and myself believe that, too.
