In which a girl with bright soul,
one that was meant to have a
bright future ahead, manages
to get caught up with the
Mikaelson family and their
petty drama which turns her
entire life upside down, causing
it to plummet into a dark place.
THE VA...
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DON'T CALL ME ANGEL: LABYRINTH OF TROUBLE.
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[ NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA 1913 ]
THE HEALING JOURNEY after the loss of her mother was proven to be prolonged and painful for Ariella Buchanan who was forced to pack up the life that she and Celeste had built for themselves and relocate only half of those belongings to an entirely new city where she had no one. She'd dreaded the inevitable since the day of the funeral, sulking in the cold truth that stared her right in the face . . . that she was nothing short of an orphan at such a juvenile age.
Though it wasn't out of the ordinary for someone of her age to be independent, it was different. Most seventeen-year-olds, primarily women, had begun to settle down not long after turning fifteen. They'd become housewives, tending to their husband's every minuscule need all while he worked to provide for his growing family. Prosperous individuals were away at college, noses dug deep into their studies in hopes of accomplishing something meaningful of their own without their family name serving them use. Then there was Ariella . . . though she had access to a large quantity of money, she was unable to find the strength to make a journey to the nearest bank in order to utilize it for something meaningful, not when it once belonged to her father.
Blinking rapidly, the Buchanan girl settled back into the present, observing her surroundings and drawing in a sharp breath at the clutter she had avoided unpacking in an effort to avoid the pain that was bound to consume her with every box she pulled open.
The funeral held to honor her late mother was three weeks ago and ever since then, she'd fallen deep into a lonesome state, plummeting entirely when her father appeared at her doorstep in the nearly empty home located in Pennsylvania. When she pulled the door open, she expected to see Leonardo, not the version that he would inevitably become at some stage in his life.
Aside from unexpected, the visit was unwelcome and Ariella had made that abundantly clear upon slamming the door in her father's face, her body fuming with anger at the fact that he'd stopped it from shutting and his presence altogether. Seeing him again was expected, but it was too soon . . . far too coincidental that he'd located her after she'd provided Leonardo with what would become her old home address once she departed from the town of Willoughby, Pennsylvania in the coming days.
No part of their conversation was civil, not on her behalf. She was powered by hatred, more so when his only goal was to have her join him and his newly wedded wife, along with her children, for the upcoming holidays. It felt like an absolute mockery, his lack of shame toward the fresh subject of her deceased mother (who he only briefly mentioned), and the confidence he paraded around with as if she'd ever agree to it. He didn't feel guilt, not an ounce of it concerning his late wife's passing. And for that, she loathed him more than before, ashamed that half of her DNA biologically pertained to him.
