Redemption of the Damned

Mi Caro

"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." ― Marilyn Monroe

The sun was warm against her tanned skin.

A tourist girl, visiting Italy for the summer. Perfectly brushed locks of brown hair. A bit of an airhead, according to her parents. They said, she grew attached to people easily. In this case that is true. 

"Hey Solido! Come over here, I want to take a picture."

Donatella smiled, leaning on a monument (she probably shouldn't have leaned on) marked 'Costa Smeralda'. A red haired boy scurried over, holding a large camera. 

"Give me a second to set it up, okay?"

The boy scrambled to put the camera stand up.

"Yeah yeah, just don't take forever! I can't sit like this all day!"

Donatella's love language was teasing, that of which she did often. She had an adorable boyfriend to do so with, a summer fling. She liked to imagine that it wouldn't just be a summer thing, and that she'd be able to see him everyday. Though, she'd never admit it.

The boy finally got the camera up, putting his head under the curtain.

"Ready?"

"I've been ready!"

With a loud click, the shutter went off, sending a bright light Donatella's way. The boy rushed to grab the photograph that came out of the front of the camera shortly after, shaking it wildly in the air.

"Hey let me see it!"

Donatella ran to the other, leaning over the boy's shoulder. 

The picture was, dare I say, perfect. It captured Donatella's beauty very nicely, as well as the sparkling of the ocean behind her. The beaches in Sardegna were always the best. Beautiful blue waters, surrounded by hot white sand. It truly was a stunning place to grow up in. 

"You're beautiful."

The boy watched as the photo was slowly revealed. Donatella, nodding in agreement.

"Hey, y'know? I'm gonna become a sailor, then I'll go visit you back in America. Then we can always be together."

The boy looked at Donatella with a large smile on his face, his eyes glimmering with excitement.

"Forever? With you? I guess I can deal with that."

Donatella rolled her eyes, returning the smile.

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A little puff of pink hair rested on her head, swirling around her head like cotton candy. Trish Una, Donatella's 15 year old daughter, a beautiful child who loved everyone, especially her mom. The absence of a father didn't hurt her at all, in fact, she may have done better without one up till now.

"Hey mama? Why don't you ever talk about dad?"

Trish asked as her mother brushed her hair.

"There isn't much i have to say about him, what do you want to know?"

Donatella smiled, reminiscing.

"Why isn't he here? Why has he never been here?"

Trish furrowed her eyebrows, upset.

"I told you this before, he was one of the missing in the fire."

"But you said he survived, why isn't he here if he did?"

Donatella pursed her lips, carefully thinking over her words.

"I don't know."

"Why don't you know?"

"So many questions my dear! Why don't we make dinner?"

Donatella, determined to change the subject, put the hairbrush down.

"I am hungry.. Okay fine, but we're talking about this later."

Donatella got up, Trish following close behind. They moved into the kitchen, taking out pots and pans. Trish stared at the photo they had in there, the only one Donatella had from that summer.

"Was he a good guy?"

Trish lifted the picture frame, trying to imagine what her father was like.

"He was very sweet, and a bit clumsy. I found him very endearing. You would have loved him, and he would have loved you. You remind me so much of him."

Donatella smiled, preparing the food for dinner.

"Have you gotten in contact with him yet? I know you've been trying.. If he is actually out there, I'd want to meet him."

Trish set the photo back on the wall, going to her mother's side. Donatella coughed, a symptom of her illness. Trish hurriedly held her arms out, just in case her mother lost balance again.

"Ah- I'm alright.. And no I haven't. But that won't stop me from trying.."

"Mama you shouldn't work so hard. I'll take up a job and take care of you, okay?"

Trish smiled softly as her mother embraced her.

"You're so kind, but you're much too young to have so much responsibility.."

Donatella pet Trish's hair.

"I can handle it Mama. You'll see."

And then..