The story of Pinocchio

Prologue

        You may think you know the story of a boy who, whenever he lied, his nose grew due to a magical curse, but that could be furthest from the truth. Many tales have been told, but only one remains true. The story you think you know begins on a rainy evening in a small Italian village near the sea, where a small measly cricket sits on top of a graveyard stone, and a man and his wife grieve over the loss of their child. You might know why the story starts here, and maybe out of curiosity and wonder; you will find out. In memory of a loving son: the words seemed to etch deep inside Geppetto's heart.

His heart felt like a bolder smashed through his chest, crushing his heart into a thousand pieces. His boy, his precious boy, was no longer with him. Rain vigorously poured from the sky, and he wondered if he could feel happiness ever again. But he remembered what his son had asked him, "keep the toy-making business open; I love you very much, papa." Geppetto could feel his lip trembling all over again. He knew he shouldn't have promised his son.

The overwhelming guilt that flooded through him made him regret saying, "I promise, dearest." He remembered how he felt when he saw the light go out of his son's eyes. The promise. The memory. The never fading commitment. He bent down and ran his hand over the rough headstone, which accidentally caused him to slice his finger. He wiped the blood away as the rain poured down even heavier than before. He was cold and filled with a heavy heart. He knew it was time to leave him, his beloved when the wind picked up the pace, and it began to thunder. He failed to witness the woman in blue silently watching him from afar.

He saw his wife standing next to him, hanging her head down. Geppetto tried to touch her. But she moved away from him. "I can't live like this." She told her husband. "What do you mean?" Geppetto asked her out of concern. "I want things to be like they once were." "Well, they can't, Marinette." He saw tears dripping from her face. "Geppetto, I love you dearly, but I can't stay. I can't." He held his wife's black-gloved hands. "No, you made a promise to Elio. You said we'd stay together." Marinette looked up at her husband, her face boiling red with anger... Her tears seeped down her face in regret. "You can sale my things, but I'm not coming back." Geppetto tried to console his wife, but she refused him. "Elio would want us to stay together." "Elio, is dead Geppetto." The words stung more than the fact his wife, his dear wife, that his beloved wife was leaving him. He watched her walk away. He didn't know what else could feel in his void of loneliness.

Later on that night, the storm seemed to pull in closer. Geppetto tried to sleep. Don't think of him, don't think of him, don't think of him. He pleaded with himself. But no matter how often he tried to convince himself not to believe, shadowed memories of the past danced around him, like he was drowning in his own past... His regrets and sorrows. He breathed. He knew his son, Elio, loved making wishes before bed. But wishes didn't often come true, and it was impossible for the desire he was about to make ever to come true.