Lost In Translation

Preface - L'omertà

Thrumbum. Thrumbum. Thrumbum. Thrumbum.

The beating of her heart overwhelmed the sounds of her surroundings, and every step felt like a shock up her spine.

Pam, pam, pam, pam, pam, pam, pam, pam . . .

Her head throbbed. Her breath was shallow and fast. Her stamina was giving out. For how long was she running?

She didn't know.

But she knew exactly why she was running.

"I saw her turn through that alleyway! Hurry!"

And she knew that she could never stop, or else that's the end of her life. Maybe worse if she stayed alive.

"Pick up the pace! Get her now and retrieve that stolen cash!"

Their words faded from her hearing. Her heartbeat drummed against her chest even harder than before. Who knows, she might even pass out on this street and this game will end.

Turn to the corner. Avoid the box in the way. Mind the manhole.

Ratatatat!

Gunshots. They were getting closer.

Stop running. Stop! There, at the edge of the street . . . It was the sea. Sweet saltiness and safety. If she could hide here . . .

"Over there, at the pier's edge! Hurry before she jumps!"

"What? But that's like a 30 meter drop above those waves!"

She looked down. Oh, that was a sharp drop. Rocks poked out near the edge of the water.

She still had the money in her jacket pockets. It's waterproof. If she could make this jump, they would give up the chase and she could go into hiding while they assumed her dead. Then she and her father could finally get away and escape this trap of a city.

But. . . if she were to miss that chance . . .

PYOOM!

A second gunshot. It whizzed past her ear.

No time to think. Either jump here or get killed now. It was a risky game being played, but she had been playing this game ever since she joined Camorra the family. Time to end it and win.

Father, please forgive me.

Without any further hesitation, she lunged forward. Her feet jumped off the sea-salt wood of the pier, and the feeling was . . .

"DAMMIT MAN, SHE JUMPED!"

She was weightless. She was free.

She was falling.

This was a horrible idea. And the consequences, she now knew, would punish her momentarily.

God! God, I pray to you, She thought in that moment of freedom and fear, Please, I ask for help. I screwed up. This whole time I screwed up, and now both me and my dad are gonna pay for it. Give me time. Give me a soft landing. I pray for my dad, oh, I'm so sorry . . . Please, I pray to you, and if you can't help me, then I pray to any other god that hears me! Please, I'll put my faith in anyone . . .

The prayers turned to begging, pitiful and vain. She could smell the water and feel the wind whipping her face. The rocks were below her. The attackers were above her. The salt in the air forced her eyes shut. Not like she wanted to see the end before her, anyways. In the split second away from inevitable death, was there anything left to pray for?

Then, the moment came where time slowed and her life flashed before her eyes. Except there were no images or memories . . . only a voice, in a strange language. Yet . . . she could hear it. Understand it.

YOU ASK FOR MORE TIME. A SAFE TRAVEL ACROSS THE RIVER OF CHANGE. IS THAT YOUR PRAYER?

A woman's voice? No matter, the girl's probably just at the edge of life with lunacy. Ye- Yes. Yes! I pray for safety, for myself, until I can get back to my dad! I give you my faith, God! O-Or Goddess?

VERY WELL. PUT FAITH IN ME, AND THIS MIRACLE IS Y O U R S.

Time sped up again. She could breathe, and the wind was whipping faster than before. Nothing touched her except for the air's great speed. In a bout of courage, she opened her eyes.

The land beneath her wasn't her home. At least, it wasn't the city surroundings. Trees flourished, great mountains loomed over rolling valleys, and an area covered in mist laid at the center of it all.

It was something she would grasp with admiration and wonder if she wasn't falling towards it at a frightening speed.

. . . Is this a hallucination of nature before I crash into the water? A feeling she didn't expect when facing death sprouted with this realization: disappointment. It doesn't even look like Palermo. So this prayer really was nothing but grabbing at nothing . . . Papa, I'm so sorry . . . I only wanted to help us live our lives.

The girl in the sky yelped and choked on her tears as she realized the misty area would hit her soon, and closed her eyes. With nothing she could do, she accepted her fate.

A splash really did come that day. And with it, silence.

She made an oath to silence, so it was only fitting that it was with her till the very end. And so, that silence wrapped itself around the girl in the water.

Thoughts . . . turn to . . . silence . . .