Manners with the Devil

38

G I A V A N N A     A M A T O

Grief is the type of suffering no one should ever go through. 
The thoughts of losing my loved ones haunt me all the time. 
It happened. But not to someone I loved. To someone I once loved.
However, I still suffer the mourning of that person. I don't know why.

Grief feels like a weighted blanket pulling you from life.
Pulling your heart tightly so it doesn't see light again.
Pulling your emotions to tangle within each other.
It's horrible.
You don't die.
You suffer with the news of that one person dying.
It's like you are locked up. and never will get out, because you won't see that person ever again.
It's hell.
And I'm stuck inside of it.

Now, I've revived back into reality. But I wouldn't say revived. I'm still in so much remorse. 

A pain sits in my heart. The pain deepens more every time I think about it.

Sebastien is dead.

And I'm still alive.

I feel like I've betrayed him.
But I shouldn't.

Sebastien was the first real love of mine. I was obsessed. Addicted. 
But I quickly drifted without thought once I was told of what he was planning to do with me.
Sell me.
But he was made to do that.
By Adrian.

He still had a small place in my heart.

"GIAVANNA FUCKING AMATO! STOP GRIEVING OVER SEBASTIEN'S DEATH! HES A COCKY MAN. GET UP NOW!" A roar fills my ears, sensing me out of my grieving thoughts and back to real life.

My head pivots the right side of my bed to the scene of Marcelo looking angry as ever.

He is angry? really.

"Did I faint?" My voice croaks: however, I know the answer. Of course, I fainted. My body couldn't handle the bitter death of my ex-boyfriend.

"Yeah." Marcelo replies with a much calmer tone than before, "Lucas had the doctor in, so you're okay, plus you have only been asleep for around two hours." He looks at the watch displayed on his wrist.

"Right, thanks." I heave all my body weight up so I'm sitting against the headboard of the bed.

"Sorry not sorry for the shouting. You shouldn't be mourning his death. You know what he did to you and if Lucas sees your mourning it anymore, he will go insane. He killed Sebastien for you." He speaks the last sentence with a crucial tone.

He killed Sebastien for you.

He killed Sebastien for you.

He killed Sebastien for you.

 Or maybe He doesn't like the idea of Sebastien wanting me.

"I have to go, but please don't fucking mourn that man's death. He deserved it." Marcelo spits as he slams the bedroom door behind him. 

I rotate my eyes in anger, then pause.

Fuck it.

I need it.

There is no easy way around this complication.

I have to.

My mind thought I had stopped my addiction, but my heart and mouth disagrees a lot.

I need it when I need it.

I need it now.

I crave it.

I will get it.

My legs heave over the side of my bed, and I run out my bedroom door.

My feet descend down the marble stairs and down the hallway to be met with the entrance of the kitchen doors.