Bad Luck Baby (Mafia Novel) COMPLETED

Chapter six

Tick tack. Tick tack. The ticking of the clock is really starting to annoy me now. I have been in this room for what feels like hours now. It is actually 15 minutes, but the room is already closing in on me. Looking down at my ankle, I cringe at the sight. It is still bent to the other side with a throbbing pain going through it. My whole body has bruises over it, but aside from the small cut on my arm and the large one on my leg there is nothing serious. While looking around the room, I spot a bathroom. There must be a sink or something else with water in there. Look at your ankle, Sarah. There is no way you should try to walk.

Shrugging the thought off my shoulders, I look down one more time before trying to stand up. Placing both my hands at the side of the bed, I sit up straight. Good, now my legs. The right one was easy, that one hangs off the bed already. The left one on the other hand, is another story. I grab my knee with my left hand and my foot with the other, so that it won't bungle in a painful way. While lifting my leg up, I let out a soft scream. Jesus, that hurts. I sit on the edge of the bed and well, I should have listened to my inner voice. There is no way I can make it to the bathroom. It hurts so much more now that I am not laying down anymore. But my stubbornness gets the best of me yet again, when I put my good foot on the ground. Here we go. Letting my left leg go slowly, another scream leaves my mouth. "Argh, fucking hell!"

Come on, Sarah. You can do this. Gathering all my courage, I limp to the other side of the room with my left foot dragging behind me. It takes all of my energy to not break down right now. It hurts so fucking bad. Having finally arrived at the bathroom, I limp through the door and to the sink. I grab the cup placed on top of it, fill it with water and immediately start taking big gulps of water. Happiness starts spreading in my body when the cold, fresh water starts to fill my throat. The feeling of happiness does not last long though, two seconds later my attention goes to my throbbing ankle again. I decide to sit on the toilet for a while, just to rest.

A few minutes later, I get up and start limping to the bed again. Aside from the massive pain, this goes fairly well. Finally, I am out of the bathroom. Why does everything have to be so big in this house? Just four more steps and you are there. My eyes are solely focussed on the floor beneath me. Suddenly, my foot slips and I fall to the floor. I scream. Hard. The pain in my foot is like nothing I have felt before. I lay crying and screaming on the ground when I hear the door open. "Jesus Christ, Tesoro. What were you thinking?", a shocked Giovani says.

"P-please, m-make the p-pain stop", I cry out to him. I'm laying on my side on the floor now and see Giovani's feet come closer. I don't know if I should be happy or afraid of him now. Feeling two strong arms lift me up, my sense of panic heightens. "Shh, bambina. It's okay. I am going to get Adamo here, okay?", he places me on the bed again and strokes my head softly. Not being able to say anything, I just nod and lay there. He gives me a look of pity and concern. While he is standing there, I take a good look at him. He is dressed in fancy, grey pants with a white dress shirt on top of it. Around his neck hangs a black tie. He looked really serious. Seriously hot. Before I can blink, he turns around and walks out of the doorway.

"Hello again, miss. I came to put a cast around your ankle, is that okay with you?", Adamo says while walking into the room. Not being in the mood to talk to anyone, I nod. The energy has officially left my body and sleep is almost taking over my body. "Tesoro, you need to stay awake. You can sleep when we are done, okay?", Giovani bows down and whispers in my ear."I want to sleep now", I say exhausted and full of pain. He goes through my hair with his firm hand, "no, baby. Not yet, just wait a few more minutes". Turning my head to the left, Adamo turns to look at me and smiles. "Almost done here, miss. Don, can you make the bed ready so that I can access easily?", he asks Giovani. "Sure, but hurry up", he takes the side bars of the hospital bed down.

Adamo sits on a bar chair kind of thing and starts to work on my leg, "what colour do you want your cast to be? The options are black, white, red, blue and green". I start to doubt between black and red. I mean, black is an awesome colour. But then again, red is too. "B-black, please", deciding that black will look prettier than red. "Okay, here we go."

A few tears and minutes later the cast is on and Adamo leaves the room. Giovani walks out of the corner he was in, and sits on the chair next to the bed. "I really care for you Tesoro, but don't even think about doing this again", the strictness and anger in his voice is clear. "I'm s-sorry. It's just, I can't handle being in a space I can't get out of. Has to do something with my past. I really am sorry, please don't h-hurt me for i", I say pleading. He scares me. And after the way he let me without a cast for 'punishment', I doubt that will ever go away. Two black eyes are staring at me, trying to get into my mind. "Explain."

"I d-don't-" "I said explain. I don't think you are in a position to disobey me right now", the black haired Italian says. Guess he is right about that. Not feeling like talking about it though. He gives me an impatient look that gets me to talk. "Well, when I was young I always was the difficult child at home. The black sheep as they call it. I could not handle being told what to do, as my opinion was that someone learns more from made mistakes. Long story short, I was grounded a lot. Yelled at a lot. Being thrown out a lot. It started there, that I wanted to be outside all the time. Anywhere but the room that felt like a prison". I take a moment to think about how to explain everything. "When I was twelve I was more days sick at home than I was at school. They didn't know what it was, so they called it overreacting and stress. Two years later it became so fierce that I was sent to the hospital. What was supposed to be just one day of medical examination turned into a seven week stay. I had Crohn's disease. After seven weeks I got to go home, but I was never the same after that. My body was weak from all the laying around and the disease had cost me a lot of energy. I had to switch to a school nearby. Kids called me weird, because I was sick half the time and was too insecure to talk to anybody. I always was the weird silent kid in the back of the classroom. Never felt the need to talk to any of them. I was held back a class, so I was older than they were. From there on my whole life revolved around being sick. When I was seventeen it all started again, and I laid in the hospital for eight weeks. I became depressed, because I was stuck in the same room. The same four damned walls for eight weeks. Couldn't eat, so they gave me a tube. Because of the lack of food and all the laying in bed, my muscles gave out. I couldn't even shower alone or walk to the toilet without any help. Let alone leaving the room", by now my voice was void of emotion.

Just like the old days. Switch on, emotions off. "Well, that's my story. That's where my problems began", I say. "I'm sorry, Tesoro. I'm sorry that happened to you", Giovani replies. Great, here comes the pity. "Just, please- Don't see me as the sick girl now that you know. Enough people have done that, and I hate it." "Sarah, I already knew of your disease. I just didn't know the story behind it", he replies. He knew? "How did you already know?", I ask afraid of the answer. "Let's just say I'm in a position to know and your friend John." John. I almost forgot about him. "He's not my friend anymore, never has been apparently", I mumble. "Come on, let's get some food downstairs", he stands up from the chair and lifts me up in his arms.

He carries me down the stairs. Two voices are talking downstairs. Oh, no. I recognize that voice anywhere. I am so not in the mood for this now. We have stopped walking when someone says my name, "Sarah". Giovani turns himself around, so that I can look at the person.

"John."

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Updated: 11 March 2020