^that means "Italy for the win!" :P
"Look out the window," my dad said to me from the other side of the plane. I looked out to see a lot of...grass. There were also many different colorful flowers. A lot looked yellow, they looked like sun flowers.
We arrived in Milan and were picked up by a limo. They drove to a very fancy, but historical hotel. It had amazing architecture, along with the rest of Italy.
My parents thankfully gave me my room, though it was right across the hall for theirs.
I walked in to see a fancy looking living room and a kitchen. As I walked farther I saw a hall and two huge doors at the end. A huge bathroom was the only other door in the hall. I opened the two doors to find a master bedroom.
This hotel was so…regal. I had never been in any place like this. Our house in California was just as modern as you could get it: white walls, odd looking white couches, with huge windows everywhere overlooking the city. This place made me feel like royalty…old-timey royalty.
I could have definitely gotten used to Italy.
June seventh. Was it the best or worst day of the year? It strangely seemed like both. It was the one day of the year I would dedicate to her. Remembering those painful memories brought me happiness and sadness at the same time.
I normally surrounded myself with work, making my brain too busy to wander. I slept on streets and benches, not caring for myself at all. Though for today, and today only (of this year), I cared for myself. I grabbed some of the mostly useless money I made and took a trip to a drug store. I bought all things for hygiene. I even booked myself a room in a hotel for a shower.
After getting out of an hour-long, steamy-hot shower, I wrapped a fluffy white towel around my waist.
The foggy mirror eventually turned clear again, making me able to see myself. My eyes looked so...dark. It looked like I had been years without sleep. I almost laughed to myself; I guessed it was because I hadn't had sleep in years. My lips were permanently bent into a frown, my eyebrows constantly furrowed. Though my face was still perfectly smooth and pale.
I moved back into my bedroom and went to my wardrobe. Inside the wardrobe was a crisp, new suit, in the darkest shade of black. I swooshed through my hair and made sure I was extra dry before I put on my suit. I then put on black socks and my new black shoes. I combed my hair back, trying to make it look fitting for a fancy occasion, though two pieces fell back onto my face. I brushed my teeth, though there really wasn't much reason too. I even put on deodorant.
I took a deep breath. June 7th was the day that I went to the place where we met, all those years ago. The night I snuck into a party filled with rich snobs, for fun. Never would I have guessed I would have found the love of my life there. Remembering was the hardest thing I had to do. But I did. Only because I loved her, and she deserved to be remembered.
My few hours in Italy were filled with unpacking my multiple suitcases (with a bit of awesome-hotel exploration.) My mother came barging in--she was dressed up in a fancy slim dress. It was a deep blue and went well with her black hair. Her pure diamond necklace stood out well against all the dark colors.
She was holding up a bag-thingy-that-you-keep-fancy-clothes-in-thing.
"You're going to love this." she smiled and unzipped the bag.
The dress was long with soft ruffles starting a little lower than the bust line. It had a high-low hemline that would cause my legs to show. The bodice was decorate with inset what shinned. It's sweetheart neckline surly called my mom to find some crazy necklace for me to wear. Over all, the dress was beautiful. The only problem: it was hot pink.
"It's pink." Was all I could say. It's bright,
"Just put it on. It will make you look like a happy, bright, young girl." My mother turned around and I quickly slipped it on. I knew that I was going to have to wear this dress no matter what, why should I start an argument?
"Gorgeous!" she exclaimed when she turned around. "Why don't you sit down, Evi? Let me do your hair and makeup." she motioned to the vanity that was in the room.
"Is that really necessary?" I groaned.
"For where were going? Evelina, of course it's necessary..." She warmed up hot-rollers and stuck them in my hair before doing my make up. I down-right HATED when my mother did this to me. I hated her tugging on my hair to make it "pretty" and going all over my face with powdery stuff that makes my skin feel…fake.
When she took out the hot-rollers my hair was in long, tight curls. She moved her hair through them for a minute or two then turned me around to the mirror. I looked…pretty, sure, but the person in the mirror wasn't who I was--it was who my mother wanted me to be.
"You look so beautiful." She only said those words when I was wearing a fancy dress and when I had my hair and makeup done (by her.)
"See, Evi, like this you look…" she stopped as if what she was about to say would 'cross the line.' I'm sure it would have. What was she going to say? That when I looked fake it made me seem…normal, maybe? As if I wasn't some crazy person that people aren't freaked out by?
"So are we all ready to go now?" She said quickly, trying to make me forget what she had said. Though hurtful words coming from your own mother can never be forgotten. I had years worth of words and things she had ever said about me that hurt me… and though I was almost to the point of not even caring anymore…they still hurt. I took every blow as if it was the first.
"...Sure," I gave her a weak smile. And for some reason…I always tried to patch up my mistakes. I was willing to do anything but become the fake human she wanted to be.
"Whatever you do, DO NOT fall asleep." She told me strictly. I nodded. My attempts never succeeded.
Dad and I followed my mom into the limo outside of the hotel. It drove for only five minutes until will came to another very tall historical building. Despite how old it looked on the outside, on the inside it looked like a club. There were dimmed down purple and blue lights, making everything dark. This room was filled with people talking; the one next to us had a dance floor and a bar. There were hundreds of people around. Most were dark skinned and had dark hair. They all looked like they had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Everyone looked so fabulous, they just made me feel more and more like a freak. My mom sighed stood beside me, her eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning.
"Do you know any of these people?" I asked her.
"Some of them," My mother barely said just before walking away to talk to a tall woman in a green dress.
"Mi scusi signorina, vuoi da bere?"I heard a voice say behind me. A boy with dark brown hair and brown eyes was standing in front of me, just looking at me.
"Yeah…Hola." I gave him a weak smile, and he just looked confused. "I'm sorry but I have no idea what you said."
He laughed, "I asked if you'd like a drink." I was about to say no, but this guy was exceptionally cute. I couldn't turn down someone like him, could I?
"Sure" I finally said.
"Right this way then," he put an arm around my waist and led me over to a counter surrounded by bottled drinks.
"Due bicchieri di vino, si prega di!" he yelled to the guy behind the counter after he sat beside me. "So what's an American girl doing here?"
"My mom works with a company that got us into here. She needed to talk to the fashion designers for them. What are you doing here? You don't seem like the kind of guy that would work in fashion."
"Actually, I'm a male model." My eyes were probably the eyes of the sun. Why in five hells was a male model talking to me? To my rescue, the guy handed us our two drinks.
"Thanks," I took a sip of my wine.
"Is this your first time in Italy?"he asked. I nodded my head, "I'm assuming you live here."
"Yeah. How long are you going to be here?"
"Only a week? That's a shame."
I raised my eyebrows.
"Well, beings you won't be here that long; I was thinking maybe you could... come back to my apartment?" he gave a look of...seductiveness. Frightening.
I grimaced , "ughh...I don't think so. Sorry." He looked surprised, he must not get turned down too much.
"Really, no? It's practically a mansion. Why not?"
"No." I said annoyed. He had mistaken me for the whore my mother made me look like. I should have seen that coming-- of course he didn't really like me, he just thought I was hot and was looking for a one night stand. But no thank you, I don't enjoy STDs, even if they are from male models.
I looked around, trying to find anything to focus on anything but the awkward male model to my left. A guy happened to catch my eye. He had just walked in the door…walking straight with a blank stare on his face. The guy looked dead inside, though he was devilishly gorgeous. He had long, jet black hair, and pale skin. He was slim and was wearing a black suit, a black shirt, and a black tie.
He lifelessly moved to the center of the room and stared down at the ground. I wondered what could have ever happened to him to look so miserable. Why was someone so miserable even here? He didn't look like he was here for business. Was he here for someone--a girl? One that had broken his heart, maybe? I wasn't even sure if a break-up could even make someone that sad...
"Is it because I we don't each other's names? The name's Adriano…what's yours?"
"Evelina," I replied to him, just to get him to shut up.
I watched as the guy from the center of the room looked up quickly and turn his head to the right. His eyes then we’re looking right at me. Normally when people have awkward eye-contact, you look away as quickly as possible, but something about him made it hard to look away. It wasn't just because I was trying to figure out what could have happened to him or the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous—it was because he seemed oddly familiar. I tried searching deep inside my mind for where I could have seen him before.
I started to suddenly feel very dizzy. Everything around me became fuzzy but him.
"I love you Lina," I heard a familiar voice say, making me blink. Blinking only took me to a whole new place. I was in the dream where the guy from my dream caught himself on fire. But I didn't have any memories of falling asleep...and I wasn't asleep. I was completely awake. I could hear everyone in the party-- talking, the music, and even the male model going on about his apartment.
I noticed something different about the guy in my dream, his face was so clear...it was the guy from the party. His face fit so perfect, it was weird... The guy from my dreams existed? He was…here?
Everything started to fade when someone started shaking me.
"Are you okay?" the model asked me sounding absolutely terrified. I blinked a few times, "yeah, why?"
"I think we need to get you to a hospital." he looked like he had just seen a ghost. I noticed that I was no longer sitting down--I was in his arms.
"What happened?" I asked, probably looking the same as him.
"I think you just had a seizure... or something. Your nose started bleeding and your eyes rolled back in your head and you started foaming and and and..." The boy was so freaked out I thought he was about to have a seizure himself. But there was no way I would be going to the hospital, not while the guy from my dreams might be here.
"I feel fine. Let me down." I said quickly and struggled to get down. I needed to find him. I wiped the small amount of blood off of my face and got on my own two feet and began walking to the direction he was in. I had to maneuver around a lot of people, but I went as fast as I could. Suddenly, my foot got caught on something and I began to fall. But before I hit the ground, someone seemed to catch me. I gripped onto their shoulder's to keep myself up. I looked up to thank him, but his face seemed to make everything stop again. It was just the sight of his face... his green eyes, his adorable lips, his perfect nose, his messy black hair...
The room started to spin followed by everything fading to black once more.
As I stood before the steps to the building, memories flooded through me as they did every year. All those years ago… I snuck into the party for all the snobby, rich people for fun. Little did I know that by the time I came out I would be a completely different person. I danced with a girl, knowing completely well I was horrible dancer. I first embarrassed the boy she was dancing with. He looked horribly stuck up, I figured he needed a wake-up call. One glance of the girl's face was all it took for me to fall in love. Hopelessly in love. I somehow managed to find the only real girl in the entire building.
It still seemed weird for me to remember just how much of a free-spirited 18 year-old-boy I was. I didn't care about her background, or mine, I just counted us as human beings. Social classes didn't matter. My rich-hating father was nothing more compared to her snobby parents. It was just me and her who were more in love than words could ever express.
Even then it all seemed so innocent--I had no idea what I would eventually do to her...
To get those bad thoughts out of my head, I went on with my journey. I took three steps exactly to get to the stairs. I lifted up my right leg to the first step.
My last thoughts still came back. That's how I was my whole entire human life--a destroyer, a monster.
I went up one step.
I spread the 'curse' that had been put on me to the people I loved most.
Two more steps.
Though in my last moments, I gave myself what I deserved for being such a monster...
"I'm sorry." I shut my eyes, by the tears still dripped down. Of course he still let me cry. Because crying made your pain more realistic. Manning-up was out of the question. You couldn't get over this kind of pain.
Two more steps and I was standing in front of the huge doors. I walked in, ignoring the men at the door, ignoring all the strange stares I was getting from the people around me. I kept my eyes straight ahead until I got to the center of the room. The diamond-shape pattern in the floor tile that I remembered dancing on many times with her.
I tried to imagine her voice…though after so many years, it was beginning to be very difficult to remember exactly how she sounded. With my excellent hearing, I was able to overhear any conversation in the entire building. One conversation in particular I hadn't been paying attention to until I heard a boy say somewhere along the lines, "what's your name?" And heard a familiar voice reply, "Evelina."
My head was in the direction of the girl before I could really process of what I had just heard… My eyes fell right on her face. Her eyes fixed on me. My heart pounded.
What kind of a sick joke was this? I thought.
That couldn't be her-- that was…impossible. She had the same jet black hair and grey eyes… Her jaw line was the same heart shape, her lips looking as soft as they did before… But how? This wasn't possible.
Her eyes were still fixed on me…when I saw a bright red drop if blood leak down from her nose. She fell to the right, where a boy caught her. She began to shake vigorously with foam appearing at her mouth.
I didn't stop to think about the possible beings that could playing a 'trick' on me.
This--me just seeing her and destroying her, made it believable.
I had to decide quickly on what to do--leave, before I hurt her more. Or stay. I myself was shaking…I decided that I at least had to make sure she was okay before I left. I had to.
I began shoving people out of my way to get to her. Though through my rapidly thinking mind, my entire body shaking, and every instinct in my body not helping me at all--I seemed to get lost in the group of people.
I still kept going--I had to get to her. I had to! She couldn't be dead…she couldn't be dead.
No, no, no, no… I whispered.
And then I stopped just before I ran into her. She seemed just as lost and confused as I was. I saw how her foot got caught over someone else's. She began to fall. I caught her easily. She gripped onto my shoulders. Her touch already left amazing…
Her porcelain face looked up to mine, her grey eyes being lost into mine...just before she fainted.
You're still hurting her…see! You're caused her enough! Let her go before it gets worse. She's still alive. Leave before you kill her again. The familiar, sinister voice said in my head. I decided to listen. Most of the room was now silent, a whole group of people were staring at us with horrified looks on me with the unconscious girl in my arms. I rushed to give her to the Italian man to my right, who was looking very concerned. I dashed out, as if I couldn't quickly enough. The voice was right, even though I didn't know how such a thing was possible, but I wasn't going to let myself kill her again.