Timeless *REWRITTEN* (Beetlejuice x Reader)

Chapter 3

The next few days were spent secretly packing what little belongings I planned on taking with me and seeking for ways to get out of the country. It was proving to be a much more difficult task than I had originally anticipated it to be. Only a small number of people were allowed in and out of the country, and though I had heard of an underground group that would usher people out of Italy, I didn't have a clue on where to even begin looking for that group. 

For the time being, though, I had to find where my aunt and uncle lived. I waited until I knew my father and sisters had retired for the night, grabbed my reading candle I kept by my bedside, and silently crept down the hallway to Mama's room. My father had put all of Mama's belongings in the closet when she passed and hadn't touched them since. I knew that would be my best bet to find any old letters her sister had sent to her from America. All I needed was one envelope with a return address. 

I rifled through old boxes and drawers, being careful of the flame in my hand and to avoid dripping candle wax on anything. I was able to locate an old cigar box in the bottom of the closet that contained aging papers and what looked to be letters underneath. I carefully sifted through them, pulling a yellowing envelope out of the box. It was addressed to Mama in curling script, and in the upper corner, was a return address. The name on the return address was my Auntie Romelda's name. I lit up, setting the candle down on the shelf and grabbing my sketchbook from under my arm and my pencil from where it was tucked behind my ear. I quickly copied down the address, careful to put the letter and other papers back the way that I had found them, just in case anyone decided to look through Mama's things. I took the candle and shut the door to the closet, carefully making my way back to my room. 

Once I had sat in bed for a moment to ensure no one was stirring, I dared to open my sketchbook again and stare at the address, as if it alone had the answers to my future plans. Even though I knew that was entirely false, I still felt a surge of hope that maybe this was my ticket out. My saving grace from a life of miserable servitude and forced motherhood. 

Of course, there was still the matter of finding and securing safe passage out of Italy. I had caught whisperings of a cargo ship that would take on those who wished to leave the country and smuggle them out. For a price, of course. Again, I didn't have any money myself, but I did have several pieces of expensive jewelry that I knew I could more than likely barter with. The hard part would be to find the cargo ship itself. I was also unsure of whether or not they would agree to take me on, considering I was a woman. 

Maybe, considering their supposed opposing ideology, they would take me regardless. One could only hope. So that's what I did. I allowed myself to hope and plan: to figure out a way to find this ship, board it, and make it to America. 

I got such a chance late one afternoon in the summer of that same year. We were running dangerously low on groceries in the cupboards, so I went to my father and asked him for the proper amount of money to go out and buy them. Without a second thought, he drew the money from his pocket and handed it to me, the little stack of paper making my heart rate lurch. 

I knew that this, combined with the jewelry I had packed to take along with me, would be sufficient enough for whoever I would barter with to accept me. Thanking him, I put the money in my skirt pocket and went outside, finding Chiara and Rosetta standing in the garden solemnly. 

I looked at them individually. 

"This is your last chance to come with me. Please, I know it may be scary, but I promise we can have a life. A better life. One where we are not simply property, but individuals. Please, sisters, come with me," I pleaded, grasping one of each of their hands in both of my own. 

Rosetta considered me scathingly, as Chiara looked on tearfully. The former was the first to break the heavy silence. 

"I am glad to serve my country, and would not think of behaving in such a treasonous way." Her words were cold, her countenance callous. It cut deep, and I blinked back the stinging tears trying to fall. "The only pity I will take on you for betraying our country is to refrain from telling father."