His sinful Obsession

Graveyard

"Casper, don't wander too far, okay? I'll be right here. Stay where I can see you."
Casper let out an excited "woof, woof!" before dashing off, his little paws kicking up soft blades of grass as he chased a group of fluttering butterflies. His tail wagged wildly, his playful barks echoing in the open air.
Frida smiled, shaking her head as she watched him.
"So much for listening," she muttered fondly.
A gentle breeze brushed past her, carrying the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing it in, letting the familiar comfort of nature wrap around her like a warm embrace.
Then, she turned to the sky, her expression softening.
"Hi, Momma. How are you?" she whispered, her voice barely above the wind.
A bittersweet smile graced her lips as she sat down on the grass, plucking a tiny wildflower between her fingers.
"Casper's been extra mischievous lately. You know how he is, always running off, chasing anything that moves. He nearly gave me a heart attack the other day."
She laughed quietly, though there was a certain tenderness in the way she spoke.
The wind picked up slightly, rustling the leaves around her. She liked to think it was her mother's way of responding.

"You know, Momma, I left my job."
Frida sighed, running her fingers through the damp grass.
"That boss was horrible. She made me cry so many times, and I never even talked back. I worked so hard for her, but it was never enough."
Her fingers tightened around the wildflower she had plucked. A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
"But that last day... that last day, I took Casper with me. And you know what she did? She kicked him. Right in front of me."
Her voice wavered with quiet fury. "How dare she? My Casper—my sweet, innocent boy. He didn't do anything wrong."
Casper, as if sensing her distress, nudged her knee, his tail wagging softly. She ran a hand through his fur, taking in his warmth.
"Ella didn't agree with me, though. She said it was a secure job, that I should've just tolerated it. But how could I? You always told me, Momma—protect the ones you love. Never let anyone hurt them. So, I left. I walked out without looking back."
She exhaled shakily."
But Casper got sick after that. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't play. And then that day...
that horrible day." Her grip on the flower trembled.
"He ran into the street. I barely got to him in time. If I had been a second late—"
she choked on her words.
"I was so scared, Momma. I thought I was going to lose him too."
The wind howled softly through the cemetery, rustling the trees.
"Oh, I almost forgot—Granny called me last night," she added, forcing a small smile.
"She scolded me, of course. Said I shouldn't be living alone. She wants me to move back to Italy, be with her."
"But how can I explain it to her? That I'm not really alone. That you're still here, with me. That I can't leave you behind."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"I miss you, Momma."
Frida reached for the delicate flower beside her, holding it close.
"Are you watching me?"
 A single tear slipped down her cheek, landing on the soft earth.
"Do you still love me?"
Her fingers absentmindedly traced the name engraved on the headstone before her.
She stared at the grave, her mother's name carved in elegant script:

Bella Sullivan (1979–2018)
Beloved mother, sister, and friend.

Her lips trembled.
"Why did you leave me?"
The silence stretched, wrapping around her like an embrace. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, she felt peace.
But then the sky darkened. The first raindrop fell, then another, until the heavens opened, drenching her in icy sheets.
Frida shivered, gripping the flower tightly.

She didn't know it yet, but this was a warning.
A prelude.
The freedom she clung to, the peace she found here—
none of it would last.
Because fate had already set its sights on her.

And she would soon become a puppet, a fragile doll caught in the hands of the devil himself, fate's favorite character.