“Because I fucking said so, now quit it,” he seethes between gritted teeth.
“Or what? You set our family on fire, all because you couldn’t accept what happened. I’m tired of being punished by you.”
“You don’t need her,” he tries to warn.
“You don’t know anything about me or what I need.”
“I know that you need to watch how the fuck you talk to me,” he reprimands.
“Ha, you fool,” I begin. Father goes to interrupt me, but I charge him, pinning him against the wall with my forearm against his throat, cutting off his air.
“You don’t know what you started by trying to mold me into your protégé. The student will surpass the teacher, when you least expect it, and Sienna Ricci will be the least of your fucking worries, you piece of scum,” I warn him, meaning every fucking word.
I release my forearm from his throat as Father gasps for air. Not so tough now.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he says, trying to regain a full breath.
“It means that you can’t mess with fate. Our bodies may be apart, but our souls are marked, promised to each other.”
“Yea, well, good luck with that. You are fucking nuts. Sienna never loved you; she loves Leo. You are no one to her.”
I walk up to him and tense my jaw. “Leo is nothing compared to me.”
“How’s that?”
“Because he left her. Once I find her, I will replace him. I will consume her, and you won’t be alive to stop me.”
It’s the souls that are meant to be …
Chapter35
Sienna
As I stare out the window, taking in the bustling city scape that lay outside the glass, I soak up the last of the fall ambiance that dresses the surrounding streets. In just a few days’ time, these same streets will be covered in frosted greenery and twinkling lights, retiring their frightful décor until next year. It’s as though the second the calendar reads November 1st, the switch from spooky to jolly is flipped, and everyone moves on like nothing ever happened.
I’ve tried edging forward like the rest of society on this day, but my heart has never allowed me. If only flipping the switch on my demons were that easy. My soul feels free on Halloween, it’s the rest of the year that I must hold back and pretend the darkness isn’t where I want to stay. So, while Christmas lights will be strung in the days to come, whatever light exists within me remains dim, succumbing to the shadows that keep their hold on me.
It is amongst those same shadows that consume me where the remnants of grief lay dormant, sadistically waiting to torment me.
Grief is a tricky thing. It can be suppressed enough that eventually functioning day to day becomes possible, but the affliction it brings to the heart can never be escaped. Most associate grief with the first few weeks of excruciating pain after losing someone. But it is much more than a period of time we spend mourning the absence of our loved ones’ lives. It’s everlasting, unpredictable, and it shows up when you least expect it.
It can present itself in the nostalgia we feel when we are struck with the realization that life is no longer as it once was. Situations change; sometimes for the better, and sometimes situations become more complex, forcing us to grieve what once was and who we once were.
Grief comes and goes. In it we unfold parts of ourselves that we perhaps would have never met if they weren’t touched by the ominous hand of affliction that casts a shadow on everyone in one way or another.
This reflection of grief often comes to me the day after Halloween, which has always felt so strange to me. Jack-o’-lanterns still adorn the fronts of people’s homes, costumes are thrown about the floor from the night before, the leaves are drenched in autumn’s best hues as they grace the ground. Yet, everything changes.
Often, I find myself grieving a time in my life when things didn’t feel so heavy or confusing, for that matter. I miss the times in my life where existing didn’t mean having to live with things continually changing or abandoning me.
This year, however, feels different. The grief is still there, but it is mixed with guilt. Last night was the first Halloween in years that I didn’t sit around and sulk in my painful memories. Carmine was a welcomed distraction from all that has plagued me for so long. Although, Nes would disagree.
I was so relieved to not have to deal with her last night after Eric dropped me off. I didn’t feel like dealing with the shitstorm that would have been her questioning me as to why I felt the need to be alone with Carmine last night.
It’s not that Nessa’s apprehension toward Carmine is unwarranted. It’s just that I don’t think he is as bad as she thinks he is. I mean, he’s no saint, that’s for sure, but in the little time that I’ve known him, I feel this justification in his darkness. It’s like, every move he makes, even the sinful ones, are for a greater purpose.
Maybe Carmine is right about darkness. It gives you pain and sorrow, but his focus on the power it gives you, well, that resonated with me. Thinking back to his dark gaze last night, I felt as though I could feel grief in his eyes, but his body moved in strength,in power.
Perhaps, my perspective could be associated with being the daughter of a deceased criminal, but there is something good in Carmine, buried beneath his sinister persona. Either way, Nessa would never understand that sometimes, those who are perceived as bad are maybe more misunderstood than they are evil. Evil takes many forms, and oftentimes what shines is false and what is naturally dim is doing nothing but living its own truth.
