"Sei sicuro di non volere che ti lasci cadere al cancello? [Are you sure you don't want me to drop you at the gate?]" Sophia asked.I nodded. "Sí." There was a sense of urgency in my voice. Although embarrassing for me, I couldn't help it. Sophia passed me a knowing look and nodded. She drove some distance, coming to a stop at the spot she'd dropped me the other day. The Y-junction that opened up to the boulevard. "Thanks." I offered a smile. As I turned to open the door, she asked, "Are you alright?"I turned from the door, but didn't look at Sophia. I wasn't sure I was comfortable with this new formed relationship. Sophia and her friends seemed too good, too good to be true. "Rina?"I flashed her a wry smile. "Anything the matter?"I was quiet for a while, not that I contemplated letting her in on my thoughts or not. "No," I finally said, "I'm fine."There was no discernible expression on her. She simply stared—casually as though she was watching a lame movie. Before I could
Piccolo Maestro was here and he stood at my door. Alerted on my presence, he peeled his gaze from the floor and stabbed me with it. I swallowed, with my chest bursting into flames, my breathing incredibly shallow. I'd been wrong. I wasn't prepared for his outburst. I hadn't yet gotten used to his hostility. My heightened anxiety cast a dizzy spell on me. Against all odds, I fought to stay calm.Okay, what was I supposed to do? Uh….greet. Yes, greet. Pulling my gaze from his frosty blue eyes, I said, "Bu…buon…" Shit. The tension was nothing like I'd known before. "Buon pomeriggio, Piccolo Maestro." [Good evening, Piccolo Maestro].He didn't respond; I dared not to look at him. "Fai un passo in questo modo." [Step this way.],” he commanded.On trembling feet, I got to where he was, stopping several inches away. "Holy fuck, I'm gonna kill you if you waste my time!"I staggered some inches close and stopped. I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to stay close to him. No sound came f
VINCENZOI stared down at the water—jaw clenched in full concentration. “Siete pronti.” [Ready?]I braced up. Having gathered enough momentum, I signaled to Michele with a thumbs up. "And go!"I plunged headfirst into the freezing pool. The water hit me hard on the face. I pierced down to the bottom of the pool, coming to lie face up. Bubbles left my nostrils. I left my eyes open for a while before shutting them. The serenity of the pool lulled me to sleep. Some time later, I jerked awake and pushed upwards to the surface. With my head out, I sucked in air. Fuck. My chest weighed tons. Ignoring the pressure, I came to realize that the sun had reached its peak. Had I actually stayed that long underwater? And come to think of it, where was Michele? I looked around. The fucker. He'd grown tired of waiting and had left. Good for him. Now, he'd know better than to question my lung agility. I swam to the edge of the pool, groaning and got out of the water. I padded to the awning, the
Writer's block came at the worst possible time. Example, right now I wanted to prove to Michele and that muppet that called himself Alessio that I was capable of staying on my own. I had slapped and knocked myself, had pressed the backspace key a thousand times, and had grunted all I could. Yet, all I could show off was a paragraph. Don't even get me started on the dreaded blinking cursor. Alessio…. Fuck. No way. I rather died than succumbed to defeat. And so, I engaged in an anxiety-reducing exercise. Breathe in…. Breathe out…Here we go. I sat still to think something up. Gradually, ideas seeped in. I cracked my neck and hunched my fingers on the keyboard. I was able to form two sentences for the second paragraph before my muse bailed on me. As always! Hitting the save icon, I shot up from my seat. All roads led to the private lounge.I grabbed a bottle of brandy from the fridge, poured some quantity in a tumbler and threw it in. The drink scalded my throat. Just the type of
RINAPressing my books tight against my chest, and with my bag hanging on my shoulder, I marched to my department theater. I kept some distance from my classmates, and by distance, I meant nothing less than five feet. I did so for two reasons;One—because of my famed status as Piccolo Maestro’s wretched maid. And two, my dressing. The extra large T-shirt and the knee length pants left me looking like an overfed pig. In fact, I appeared inflated, and despite this reality, a tiny smile sat on my face. I had even chuckled in the bathroom before leaving for school. I'd laugh, feeling both sad and amused.After what I'd gone through on Friday, I made the strong resolution to change my wardrobe. As fate may have it, my weekly wage dropped on Saturday. I'd wasted no time in hitting the nearest local store to get some appropriate clothing. One that would keep Piccolo Maestro off my case. If looking weird was the price I'd pay to have peace—oh, hell yes. I was willing to pay that price. Takin
The rumbling of my stomach stole my attention yet again. For what appeared to be the zillionth time. The time on the clock read twelve after five. It'd been nine hours since I last ate. I hadn't had the chance to visit the cafeteria for obvious reasons. In hindsight, I scolded myself for being a complete moron. It was possible that Piccolo Maestro hadn't been there, since he sometimes went to fancy restaurants outside of Santigo with his friends. But no, my dumb self hadn't considered that. Fear had clouded my reasoning, such that I kept a fast for what was likely to be nothing. I forced my gaze back to the textbook. Doing this proved difficult because not only had the rumbling persisted, but also, a searing headache had hit me. I gave up and left the library. Grabbing my back from the stowing room, I skipped off, practically jogging to the bus station. I'd never been this hungry to the extent of not checking if Piccolo master's car was in the garage. Which happened to be my ritua
VincenzoA rap drummed in my ears. I groaned, muttering meaningless words. In a flash, it ceased and I sighed in relief—prepared to continue enjoying my sleep. It came again, this time with a voice. " Vi boy. Come on, open up."Groaning out loud, I sat up and glared at the door. With the knock coming yet, I rolled out of the bed and padded off. A small pull revealed a lanky figure. "Oh, did I wake you up?"I nodded with the frown still on my face."I'm sorry." She ruffled my hair. "I really need a favour from you."I moved my head, urging her to say whatever it was so that I could return to sleep. "Can I use your bathroom? Mine got blocked," the figure said.I slanted my head in total disbelief. "It beats me too. And your Papà and Mammà are fast asleep. I don't want to trouble them."It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to ask the maids, but I figured that she must have already done that. Her bedroom was close to the servant quarters. "Okay." I pulled the door wider, lettin
RINAWARNING!! TRIGGERING MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!!!!Something struck me, jerking me awake. Volumes upon volumes of air rushed into my nostrils as I gasped with my eyes wide open. After a few blinks, I became aware of what was going on. And what had rammed into me. Piccolo Maestro.Cold shivers swarmed my face and for a second, my heart stopped beating. On reflex, I flicked my gaze at the door, wondering whether I had stupidly believed it was locked. That was the only logical explanation for how Piccolo Maestro had made it here! I swept my gaze back at him. His chest, glittering with sweat, fuelled my anxiety. I gulped, making a mental note of how I'd leap from the bed and dash outside. I gulped again, wetting my lips and getting ready to make the leap. Okay. One…two, go! I plunged sideways, and fell flat on the bed. Piccolo Maestro had caught my leg. He pulled me back and forced me to look at him. His signature frown was present, but I could tell his eyes had something about them.
EPILOGUE Vincezo Moreno They were removing her off life support today. Jaw clenched, straight went my gaze. At infinity. Thunder droned at a distance. Clouds, gray, were laden with rain. It'd fallen all night. I'd taken an early morning flight, fortunately, and so, had been able to make it here. I didn't know if I should be comforted that nature empathized with me. Mourning along with me. Or I should break more, knowing that Rina had been to be next Luna, the reason why the skies mourned her imminent exit. I gave out heavy, fervent sobs, fishing out some tissue from the armrest. I wept into it. No. Grief hadn't left. It never would. As long as I lived, this was what I'd be: a grieving man. Wiping my nose, I set out to the pearl white walls of Andrea Filemone International Hospital. My fingers curved around the tiny velvety box. I held back the tears till I got to ICU: Room 4 and shut the door behind. The heart monitor beeped. My Rina still laid like a corpse on the bed, not d
Vincenzo MorenoDay 3: post operation. White stark walls moved behind as I was wheeled into ICU: room 4. My system was asleep, with just my ears acknowledging the clomp of feet on the floor, muddled chatters and the squeal the wheelchair had as it rolled on along the tiled floor.The nurse pushed in the door. My heart throbbed the instant I spotted her. It wasn't good for my recovery, as the doctor had said; I didn't care. I couldn't, not when she was involved. Something washed over me. Hurt that clawed at my core. The nurse placed me next to her and left. I lifted a hand, then placed it on Rina's. My cloudy eyes moved to her face.It was unbelievable, so much, because I'd thought I'd lost her. Almost pushed to tears, I kissed her hand—my eyes shut tight as I communicated using my mind. We'd converse this way until she recovered.I cannot believe it: I'm holding you. You are here with me, life and direct. There's so much that's to be said. So much I should let out that I have th
Vincenzo Moreno When I'd gotten a text from Alessio, I hadn't done the expected. Rather than steam with rage, I shut my eyes in relief, for it was all over. I would get Rina at long last and eliminate that son of a bitch.I'd gone straight to Padre and stood my ground. I'd venture into the jungle of Valle del Teschio. It'd been clear Padre was too interested in the whereabouts of the moon statue to see the emergency at hand. He'd been too distracted to think clearly. And not only that. This was my fight. My mess. And only I could clean it up. Nearly twenty-four hours down the line, I was marching into the unwelcoming forest, accompanied by an army of soldiers. The only thing I saw good about my pack was the level of organization it showed. The soldiers who were armed to the teeth were proof. They made up the emergency tactical unit. Always on their feet at the snap of the finger. The undergrowth impeded our movement; our determination was the driving force that kept us going. The
Rina ZanteFire crackled in the background. It was one marker that showed the girl on the floor, whose legs laid sprawled and eyes closed, was alive. That, together with the occasional forcing of air into her nostrils. I hadn't seen my period in months; so the growing pain around my belly felt strange. It'd started yesterday with just a dull throbbing. Now, it came more frequently, resembling my period with its undulating intensity. A low and a high. At the onset, I'd worried something was wrong with the babies. And even as I'd figured what could be amiss, dread sank deep into my bones—chilling my blood. It wasn't supposed to happen now. I pressed my teeth into my upper lip as the painful wave waltzed across. It wasn't supposed to happen now. A tear of heartbreak escaped. I couldn't have the babies here. Not now. My heart wept out of disappointment. I'd had faith the moon goddess would come through for me. I'd been in Central Temple, in my dream, happy like never before as I ca
Leonardo (Alessio)Everywhere was soaked in green. Even the air. It oozed of the scent of herbs. I got out of the car, which was something I'd looked forward to since the journey began. Not just because my bones ached, but also the car had been suffocating in the figurative sense of it, and till now, I couldn't explain how or why I was subject to guilt. Leaves rustled and twigs snapped from the weight of my feet as I trudged ahead, stopping in front of a beastly truck. This was our new home for the meantime. Until we got to the endgame. The hood bore dust and leaves laid strewn over its surface extending to the bottom rim of the windshield, bringing to my notice a poster of Mario Domenico—a well-known survivalist. A wooden wall was mounted at the tail region of the car. The wall formed a convex hood above the windshield. I went to the side of the truck for further inspection. There was a door, a pigeonhole notched close to the back tyre, a large window towards the back. And a ch
Vincenzo MorenoI forced open the door, cutting Dr. Yolanda short. "See it now? They've fucking succeeded."Initially taken aback, Dr. Yolanda sent her gaze to the receptionist standing beside me, eliciting an explanation for why I had barged in from the dumb girl. Dr. Yolanda didn't show she was mad. Rather, she waved the receptionist away, turning to me. "I'm currently having a session, Vincenzo.""This is a matter of life and death. Definitely it's worth looking into with immediate effect." She paused, eyes fixed at me, and pressed back against her swivel chair. "What is it?"I frowned. "Yes. What is it?""You don't expect me to talk…now." I looked at the client seated across from her. "So, it's private. Surely, it isn't something too pressing you can't spare some minutes." I glared at her, the intensity almost lethal. Yet, she held my gaze, not at all intimidated. "Go on, Vincenzo. The longer you stand there, the less your chances of meeting with me." After several seco
UnknownA four lettered bitch. Something cruel and unfair. A tyrant who everyone feared. None questioned it. None could challenge it to a fight. That was what life was. Life wanted me to be like everyone. Accepting the shit it threw my way with open arms. It was an absolute impossibility for me to succumb because none of it made sense. How was it that one was favored, and the other person disposed of like garbage? Alessio Salvatore wasn't better than me. He hadn't been taller nor with more powers. In actual fact, we both—like other babies—had been born with zero abilities. He hadn't been more facially endowed, nor blessed with an angelic cry. We'd both had the potential to keep our parents up at night with our wails. Yet, he'd been chosen over me simply because he'd been the first to arrive. I had been seen as the lazy one. Belief had it that I still was attached to the other world, and so would have a negative impact on the true born and everyone around me.They hadn't blinked be
Rina ZanteBit by bit, the wardrobe came into view. I fixed my eyes at it for a while before finally heaving up. My arms bore the under of my belly. A huge yawn left my mouth. I was tired, even though the sleep had been long and peaceful. Then again, I didn't see myself fancying the idea of taking another nap. My gaze moved to the curtains. It was well lit. A clock hanging next to it stated the morning had long started. Some minutes to nine. Off to the bathroom, I couldn't say what would become of today. One thing was sure, however, I'd be out of town in a short while. As I brushed, a thought materialized. It was one that widened the soft spot that'd been attached to my heart ever since my belly became visible. The bathroom sink had inspired the thought. It looked just as cozy as the tub in my dream. Clean in its pale blue color and adorned with cloud patterns around. The dream had been lucid; I could remember details of it. The babies had been having their bath. Just me with the
Vincenzo MorenoHer room was a brown monochrome. Fairly furnished and with large panel windows. I couldn't stop myself from wondering if every therapist's office was this way. Depressing. Dr. Yolanda edged close and handed me a cup of coffee. "I'm going to be honest with you," she said while lowering to her seat. "I'm glad you called."Her gaze spoke volumes. She expected me to lay my worries bare—my greatest pet peeve. However I had no choice. I wanted none of these anymore: torn away from Rina, waking up miserable, and being in exile. "Do you want to talk about it?" I stroked my thumb over the handle of the cup, then sent the hot beverage sliding down my throat. "How much time do I have?" I asked. "Forty five minutes, but I'm willing to make it an hour."Why? Because I'd make an interesting study?My focus laid on the coffee as I mentally prepped myself to talk."I want all this to end. I just want to wake up and see this as part of the past." A short pause followed. "I don'