𝐌𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐳. Even being born right next to the cruel and sick crime life never changed the charismatic and positive Mia who wanted to help change the messy world she formed part off.
Becoming a nurse at the age of 25 and joining her d...
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"Hi," I mutter sitting down on the ground and gripping the already half-empty bottle of whiskey I bought on my way here. "It has been a while, hasn't it? I know, I'm sorry. So much stuff has happened you wouldn't even believe me."
When Rick didn't bother to stop me, proving my point that how at the end of the day everybody leaves me I went directly to Felix and told him to drive me to the city. Then I stopped the first cab I saw on the street and got here. It feels weird, it has probably been about two years since I came here last time. I used to come often, at least once a month but then everything started going to shit and I didn't have time. I hated myself for it at first, but as time went by I kind of brushed it off, however, the moment I remembered I felt a thousand times worse - the feeling was unexplainable - but a part of me knew that it was one of the steps of the healing process or at least that's what I tried to, and am still trying to convince myself off.
"Yeah, yeah. I look like shit, I know. But you always used to say that my hair looked better when I wore it a little longer and less styled. Maybe I should have listened to you more often. It's kind of a look." I blur out the first thing that came to my mind while resting myself against my hands to try and stop the dizziness.
Mixing alcohol with painkillers might help you forget but is not as fun as it looks. Especially the aftermath but the damage is already done so, there's nothing I can do.
"Oh, and I brought you flowers, roses, your favorite." I put the now messed up red roses bouquet at the foot of the grave. "They don't look their best right now but I promise they were beautiful when I bought them."
In loving memory of Isabella Russo A loving Daughter, Wife, and Friend. Forever in our hearts 1987-2011
"Remember when you made me promise that if the cancer got you I couldn't allow your father to bury you? That you wanted to be cremated because and I quote, you were too hot to turn into worm food." I smile, because no matter how much time it had passed I can still hear her voice saying those words, and her soft giggle that followed them in the end.
I might have forgotten a lot of things but I think I will never be able to forget that.
"God, you don't know how much I battled for that. I had to promise him that he could bury your ashes after we scattered some of them at that beach in Spain. He was a tough guy to convince." I shake my head, my mind spiraling back to that day.
"You know, I haven't seen him since that day, the day you left us for good, it hit him hard. He just left, took everything and everyone with him, your mother, your grandparents. They simply banished. Sometimes I wish they had stayed, that maybe we could have remained a family but I guess it was too much for them." I take another sip of the whiskey, closing my eyes to the burning sensation I feel in my throat, no matter how much I drink I'll never get used to it.
"Oh, and, Matteo is in prison by the way, I don't know how that slipped off my mind, it's a pretty important fact. His trial is coming up soon, in just a week actually..." I look at the ground and back at the headstone, the funny, euphoric feeling of the alcohol slowly disappearing and turning into something else entirely.
