15 years ago, Amelie Russo gave birth to twin girls. The first girls in over 3 generations of Russo children.
However, the mafia is a dangerous world full of dangerous people. After a kidnapping when the twins were 5, only one twin remained. This wa...
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"I stopped being Me a long time ago. I can't even remember who that was." -Unknown
~Recap~
Calling Viktor once again, I exclaimed "envoie quelqu'un chercher le corps d'Andreas maintenant." (send someone to pick up Andreas' body now)
Sighing, I walked away, maneuvering myself out of the alley. I began walking back to the apartment, breathing in the crisp New York air, and watching as it left my nose in steamy fog, like I was a fire-breathing dragon.
Climbing the steps to the apartment, I realised that I needed to head back to my biological siblings' home, just to avoid suspicion, make it look to the outside world like I am still living there. Clutching my blood soaked jacket around my body, I entered the keys into the lock and stepped into the only place I felt safe, awaiting my best friend and the now cold Chinese food that I had been looking forward to for far too long.
If only the peace that rested through my body could last...
~Now~
"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Lils." was the first thing I heard as I opened the heavy oak door.
I sighed, wishing for once my life could be easy. "There's nothing wrong, Grey. I'm fine. I'm always fine."
He stormed over to me, anger washing over his face. "No you're not. You're always working or always on a mission. You spend no time relaxing and you barely sleep. Your becoming consumed in work and it's not healthy!" My head was pounding due to the lack of sleep, but I wasn't about to let him know that. "Come on, Lila, let me in. Talk to me. Don't let this turn into last time."
Last time.
The time where I became so depressed, I ended up at the edge of a bridge, about to jump. I had been absorbed into work like I am now, I didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't do anything but work. I refused to talk, refused to come to the apartment, refused to do anything but work. The wind had been in my hair, blowing out my dress. I had looked down, about to jump, and never felt so ready, so at peace. Looking down at the crashing water, I was at peace for the first time in a while.
And then Grey stopped me.
I hadn't heard him come behind me, hadn't seen him until all of a sudden I was no longer on the edge, no longer at peace.
And I had screamed and struggled, pushing and clawing my way back, but he didn't let me.
Eventually, I gave up, increased my therapy sessions to four times a week, and eventually pushed the emotions deep down inside of me.
It took a lot of coaxing, and a lot of therapy sessions, but after 6 months, I began to talk again. Only to Grey, but it was a big step. I became less absorbed in work and began doing things for fun.
