Whispers of Truth | Matt Sturniolo

𝒳𝒳

𝙉𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤

My utmost desire in this world transcended all else: to witness Arabella's unbridled happiness. Arabella wasn't just a friend; she embodied the essence of my dearest confidante, the one who had stood by me through thick and thin. She remained my best friend, an unshakable pillar of support in my life.

In those moments when a gnawing sense of exclusion began to take hold, and the ominous specters of rejection seemed to encroach upon my soul, Arabella's unwavering presence became my refuge. She, too, had tasted the bitterness of alienation. Arabella  had encountered the harsh indifference of her own kin. Her own brother, a figure I couldn't help but despise for his callous mistreatment of her, had left scars that marred her spirit.

With unyielding resolve, I vowed that my brothers never treat Arabella with the same torment. A sacred creed, the unwavering principle that family should always be at the forefront, coursed through my veins.

Yet, in this pivotal juncture, I found myself assuming the mantle of protector, resolutely championing the cause of the girl who had woven herself into the very fabric of my existence, becoming a sister in all but blood.

My heart raced when Chris chased after Arabella. Every instinct in me urged to physically restrain him, to seize his arm and prevent him from approaching her. Yet, a rational part of me recognized the unavoidable necessity of their impending conversation. An entire month had elapsed since they last exchanged words, and the deafening silence between them had grown unbearable.

Arabella's outward facade exuded an aura of newfound happiness, but I sensed the well-concealed pain that lingered beneath her radiant smile. It was a pain borne from the profound hurt inflicted by Chris, wounds that had yet to fully heal.

However, there was an even deeper layer of anguish that she concealed, stemming from her actions towards Matt. She sheltered herself behind a veneer of contentment, guarding her emotions as if behind an impenetrable fortress, all while wrestling with the heavy burden of her past mistakes.

While savoring the breakfast thoughtfully prepared by Matt earlier that morning, I couldn't help but broach the delicate subject. My gaze shifted to Chris, who had become a central figure in this unfolding drama.

"So, have you two made up?" I inquired, my curiosity evident in my tone. There was a certain tension in the air, and I was eager to glean any insights into their recent encounter.

Chris's response was tinged with uncertainty. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Not exactly," he began, his voice bearing the weight of the unresolved emotions. "I don't know. She... she cried. A lot."

My understanding deepened as I nodded in response. The image of those heart-wrenching, screeching sobs that had reverberated through the walls of my room was still fresh in my memory.

The intensity of her cries painted a vivid picture of the emotional turmoil she had experienced, a turbulent storm that had been unleashed during their encounter. Despite the painful echoes of her anguish, there was a glimmer of hope in the air, a sense that perhaps their conversation had set the wheels of reconciliation in motion, even if the path forward remained uncertain.

Matt's words cut through the lingering tension in the room, casting a somber shadow over the situation. He settled into a chair, the weariness inscribed across his features mirroring the gravity of his words.