He is a force to be reckoned with. A lift of his finger & people are beheaded in seconds. A word from him & the streets of NY are bathed in blood. Any evil deed, you name it & he has done it. Vicious, nefarious, brutal & downright cruel. Majestic in...
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Alessandro's POV:~
I gaze out of the large window, one hand on the glass above my head and another in the pocket of my slacks, my eyes riveted on the moonlit figure of the young girl in the yellow dress walking across the lawn below with maids behind her.
The pale orb in the evening sky seems to reflect the void I feel internally.
These past few days, all my thoughts have been consumed by her, who is still not over the deaths of her parents. The doctor’s words from my recent visit echo in my mind, prompting me to share my own experience with her.
Yes, I am seeing a psychiatrist. Though I never took an outsider’s help for myself, I am not beyond doing that for her sake. Moreover, I am not blind to see that Angel needs a professional's help, and I am currently consulting with one. That same man told me to open up to her about my pain so she can do the same.
My thoughts drift back to that fateful night. The memory is vivid, as if etched into my soul. I still recall the sound of gunshots, the shattering of glass, and the chaotic screams that pierced the air. My parents were taken from me in an instant, their lives extinguished in a matter of a few hours.
I remember the days that followed and the weight of grief that settled heavily upon my shoulders. The overwhelming sadness that enveloped me. The darkness that devoured me whole. I learned to navigate the world on my own at a young age, to mask my emotions behind a stoic facade. But the ache in my heart remained, a constant reminder of the void they had left behind along with the responsibility of my brother.
As I dwell on my own journey through pain, my thoughts turn to Angel. I wonder if she will find something to relate to in my younger version, and if my story will help bridge the gap between us.
I long to see her smile again. To witness the light return to her eyes. But I also understand the delicate nature of her pain.
Though healing is a solitary process, I want to be there for her every step of the way. I just can not decide how to approach Angel yet—how to gently offer her a glimpse into my own darkness without making her fear me—because I know the ways grief can destroy a person when dealt with alone, especially one as fragile as her.
I did not have anyone back then, but she has me. And I never want her to go through what I did. Face the horrors I did. It will scar her for life if I leave her be now.
The moon continues its silent vigil outside the window, casting its ethereal glow upon the garden, and my resolve grows stronger with it. I would be patient, I would be gentle, and I would wait for the right moment to share my experience with her.
