Purity

Chapter 2

If I could have dropped my jaw to the ground without Giorgio's hand interfering, I would have.

My eyes widened as I continued to look at my childhood best friend.

Fifteen years later, we met again while his friend basically kidnapped me and demanded a grinding session.

But after the situation hit me, the questions hit me.

Does he even recognize me?

What if he forgot all of our memories together?

I felt relief to see him safe and sound but as fast as that feeling came, it also disappeared.

All those desperate questions vanished because the most important one was why the hell did he leave?

And why he left someone that cared for him profoundly?

That's when I became angry, furious at Giovanni for disappearing without a trace and leaving me to worry about him for 15 years, 5,475 days, 131, 400 hours, and 7,884,000 seconds.

Not one damn moment in growing up did I not think of him but seeing him here so relaxed and with his little business friends, I'm pretty sure he couldn't say the same.

I wrathed in Giorgio's grasp and both men turned to me.

I attempted to scream against Giorgio's hand, "FIGLIO UN CANE, LET ME GO".

Giovanni began to laugh, "Oh Giorgio, your pulling game is weak. You have to kidnap your whores to get püssy?".

Giorgio scoffed, "Ay Gio shut up fica, I'm just trying to show her a little lesson".

I felt my breathing falter a little bit when he called him Gio, it made me come to the realization that he was actually here.

My breathing became more and more rapid when he got closer to me.

"Let's see if you even chose a puttana that was worth it, Giorgio", he said playfully as he came towards me.

Giorgio's lips came next to my ear, "try anything you whore and you'll see what happens to that pretty little face of yours", he whispered as his grip on my mouth became looser and he was just holding onto my wrist.

Giovanni looked at me and I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he scanned me over but it left almost as soon as it arrived.

I yearned for him to remember me but he didn't.

Not at all, I could see it in his facial features and eyes.

He didn't remember his first eight years of life, or perhaps he did but I sure as hell wasn't part of it.

I resisted the urge to burst out crying with disappointment and give the two men more satisfaction.

In that moment, I realized that they are right when they tell us that we always try harder for the people that don't feel the same way.

This was the perfect example of that phrase.

I spent my whole entire childhood scanning the newspaper for any clippings of found children near my hometown.

I remember going into Gio's house and looking for any clues that could have told me where he had gone but the only thing I found were blood splattered walls.

One of the most infuriating moments I felt with him was when his parents' funeral came and he wasn't even there.

Another one of those moments was when I realized that Giovanni wasn't the strong person I portrayed him to be.

Something happened in his life, something tragic, and the only thing he chose to do was run away when so many people were here to support him through his pain.

But like I said, there are people out there on the receiving end of so much attention and help that don't appreciate it.

So, in that alley, despite how much I tried to mask my emotions, I ended up bursting out into tears.

The taste of those tears as they slid down my face and into the little cracks of my lips was when I finally realized the situation I was in.

A situation that had no hope to ever get back the Giovanni I once knew.

Before I could do anything, Giovanni spoke up, "She's a britto puttana, let her go and find someone that's actually worth it", he said with a bitter laugh and disgusted face.

That's the moment I gave up, I looked Giovanni straight in the eye and roughly pulled my arm out of Giorgio's grasp. For a second I thought I had ripped my arm out of its socket.

This time I walked away, I wasn't going to let him do it again.

I stormed down the alley and finally was out in the open.

I called a cab and quickly got into it and told the driver my address.

I broke down and no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I had no need to cry, the tears were endless.

Because in actuality, I hadn't really found Giovanni, I had just found his silhouette.

The real boy disappeared fifteen years ago.