Dreams Apart

Fading

"Soo respectively...
I'm not a piece of cake."

Present

I wake up to the sound of ongoing beeps. I sigh deeply, already having an idea of where I have ended up. It smells like medication and gloom. The sheets are cold, and I shift my head uneasily to the side, only to recognize Austin staring at me.

"Mmmh." He slightly groans, still staring at me, and I quickly get up to wipe my droll. "Isn't he supposed to be in Italy?" I think.

The silence is mind numbing and yet I don't dare to break it. After hours of just staring at each other, I can't read what his eyes say, but I do know what mine will forever say: "Why?

"What are you doing here?" I crack the silence. He scoffs, giving the wall a brief stare and staring back at me.

"And what are you doing here, manichino?" (dummy) He asks, not genuinely, but to make a point. I try hard not to squint in confusion at the last word he lets out, but I do anyway.

He walks closer to my bed and places his hand on my forehead, then slowly to my chin and onto my neck. He plays with his fingers continuously down to my chest, giving my skin small brown patches that spread my skin like wildfire.

"Your heart-" He reaches upon it, which beats uncontrollably, still so fond of him.

"...is weak." He finishes off with his Italian accent being wide and thick enough for me to catch on.

"Angela!" Diana suddenly comes in, with Kimberly by her side, to the attendance of her phone.

It wasn't our first gathering since I had left her home. We had met there and there with Diana to brush off the fight we had years ago.

She explained that the investigators had found my mother's drawing, given it to her because it was of no use to the case and pretty much that's it.

"Are you okay?" Diana reaches for a hug. Austin steps aside, making gestures for Kimberly to also give me a greeting. She gives an eye roll and proceeds with her texting.

"What are you doing to yourself?" Diana sighs dramatically. "You barely even visit; the media itself is worried," I interrupt her with disbelief.

"The media?" I ask. How did the media find out I was here?

"Yes, they found out you were here, and we're all worried, sweetie. I think you should make a statement." She advises.

"For what?" A statement? A fucking statement? I couldn't help but curl my hand into a fist in anger.

"We all think you're crazy; maybe finding professional help will stop the media from wanting statements and us coming over." Kimberly shrugs, with Diana trying to playfully hush her.

"Maybe Diana should give a statement on how she raises you, because it's absolutely disgusting." Austin argues.

"Maybe you should go back to Italy." Kimberly glares.