Little Game

Chapter 44

Romeo closed the door behind him, looking at her in worry. He didn't say anything. He was just there, speechless probably, in shock most definitely. His presence felt heavy despite being silent.

Isabella, on the other hand, felt like they were leaving her because they had enough of her.

And while she knew it wasn't true, she was still an eleven year old girl who was confused as to why the only family she has left was leaving. It felt as if a tide was trying to wash away the sweltering fire that's just starting to bloom into a light.

Isabella, with all her might, tried not to cry as much. If she were to cry--if she were to demand them for a reason, for a moment where they should stop and listen to her-- she wonders if that adds to the list of reasons as to why they're leaving.

Maybe they grew tired of her?

Isabella understands how tiring she can be at times but she'll promise to try her best to be the opposite of that. She'll promise to be at her utmost behavior.

"Am I that hated?" Isabella muttered, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Her hands were shaking from the boilings of undecipherable emotions stirring in her chest. She felt abandoned and lost. It was as if they had put her in an island to show her how worthless she'd be without them.

Her mother hated her guts. She hated her so much that she probably wished her only daughter to disappear. That she'd be in a coffin. That she died in a ditch somewhere. She abandoned Isabella without a care and she threw her to Dante and her hermanos. And then she met Nicolai. Nico, the sweet and gentle boy who'd hold her hand, who was so proud to declare her his friend in front of everyone. Who was her only best friend, her true one.

But then he left too.

Without any goodbyes, without any letters, without any words, he left because that's how easy it was to leave Isabella broken. And she was left to wonder the why's in it.

And now they're leaving too. Just like how Nicolai did. And just like how her mother did.

So, she's just asking if, "am I that easy to leave?" Isabella asked, looking at her father while she clasped her hands together to avoid fidgeting. If she were to look weak then maybe--maybe they'd leave her.

She knows, deep down, that they'd her leave regardless. Isabella wanted to beg. She imagines herself kneeling below various of papers filled with names of people she doesn't know but was killed by people she loves the most. She'd feel tainted then. As if the sins of her family was crawling as she becomes all too aware of the papers below her with pictures of people who probably had a family, friends, a life that may not be clean but still a life left for them to live.

Oh, how could she not cry in this situation?

Nobody wants her.

Nobody stays forever for her. She expected too much from her privileged life that it's coming to bite her now.

Dante rolled his eyes expressively before giving Isabella a look that made her feel worthless. He looked at her like she suddenly became a burden, like a whiny, bratty child that he couldn't bother comforting.

Isabella felt like the world could swallow her whole as she stared at her father, petrified at the thought of her family leaving her. If it could, she'd allow it to swallow her whole. "You weren't going to tell me?"

"There are some things that are better left unsaid." Dante answered coolly. "You wouldn't understand."

"No, I don't understand, papa. This wasn't... You were supposed to tell me this! Stuff like this should be discussed with the family!"