Mischief

33

loss

It's been three days since Roman left for the mafia business.

I have been training the beginners with their gun skills. I also met the new bodyguard, June.

He's a quiet man and doesn't say a lot which makes me miss Luca. As far I would admit it, he's been someone important in my life.

Today, I went to the hospital to see my mother and check her health. I don't know how and in what way but she decided to confront me.

"How is Roman?" Her quiet and fragile voice was directed toward me.

The only thing that she has said to me through a long time.

"Are you serious? That's the first thing you are going to say to me?" I narrowed my eyes at her, I had enough of her ignoring me when all I've been doing is taking care of her.

"I still don't consider you as my daughter." She huffed and turned her head sideways making me clench my fists even tighter.

"You are acting like a child, mother." I gritted in between my mouth.

Calm down, Manelle.

Take it on yourself like you've been doing for years.

"Leave me alone, I do not want to hear anymore nonsense."

That's it.

"Are you fucking serious? When Tina wasn't here, I was the only person who took care of you!"

As I turned to face her, I noticed her weary expression, which revealed just how fragile she felt. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she struggled to catch her breath. Clearly, my outburst had caught her off guard.

I rose to my feet and gestured angrily in her direction.

"You're the reason my life feels like it's falling apart," I said, each word dripping with resentment.

I couldn't bear the way she had treated me over the years, using me as a punching bag for her own struggles with depression after our father's death. It seemed like she saw him in me and unleashed all her pent-up anger on me.

She remained silent as I unleashed a torrent of curses, finally letting out all the bottled-up emotions that had been festering inside me.

All of it.

I was so caught up in the intense moment with her that I failed to register the urgent beeping coming from her health monitor. The sound pierced through the tension, signalling that something was seriously wrong. It was only then that I realized She had a hard time breathing, moaning in pain while I stopped lashing at her. I gulped the lump of my throat as I watched her chest heaved in distress. The pressure intensified as I scrambled to understand what was happening, my heart racing with worry. With each passing second, the urgency of the situation weighed heavily on me, adding to the already overwhelming pressure of the confrontation.

I felt my body pushed back, the nurse and the doctors coming to save her.

I felt utterly useless as I watched her cry out for help, desperate to be freed from her pain. And there I stood, releasing all my pent-up emotions, trying to convey the injustice and agony I had endured because of her.