I have no idea why they don’t just talk once in a while.

My mood lightens at the thought of how stupid it is to work in a job where you can’t talk to the people you are protecting unless they deemed it so.

It feels like they’re selling their souls.

An unexpected breeze brings a welcoming chill seeping through the silk wrapped around my body.

I knew I would end up here tonight, it’s one of two places in Seattle I feel alone and safe to just let go. Be me.

Never has it crossed my mind, I’d seek this familiar place so early on in the evening. Today is a big day for my sister, I should be down there with them.

I feel like a fraud.

They think I am a charlatan, and they are right to believe I am a fake. I will never be like them, the Italians. I will never have their pure-blood.

I know my thoughts are unwarranted.

My father has always looked at me with pride. He once confessed in a drunken state that I was ‘The reminder’ that my mother existed.

What if I resembled him, reminded him of himself? Would he look at me the same way, like I was more than just something?

It was the question I asked him that night as he stared at me but didn’t open his mouth to speak.

His silence told me more than his words could.

I was nine.

I open the glass door, removing my heels. It's unfortunate to say that it isn’t the first time my mind goes to that one thought.

My father’s love for me, so great, so powerful that I would never doubt it.

But even his love runs on a condition.

My friend Kylie told me once, she loved her family unconditionally, whether they felt the same or not. Would I ever experience something as meaningful as just hearing those words spoken about me?

born so lucky, as fortunate as I like

my curse loneliness?

Will I

the green room. A room that

own, that has measured beauty and lived through pain can see what this place represents - A memorial room for all those innocent lives lost in the games

trapped in a magical glass castle only to die in that same

I was once an unseeing eye until I noticed a flaw in the picture, red

roses. I asked him why, he said, “I

love, he laughed and shook

die painfully. There

and I swear I saw a longing for something more than what made him so powerful. But when

sensation, as I welcome the bliss of the cold deep in my lungs. I embrace the chill

as I gaze into the darkness. I smile, knowing for this moment I am not Aliyana Capello.

chilly breeze teases my skin.

fingers along my

that voice slices my

sharp breath, I straighten my back. Saying nothing for

words finally spill out of my mouth, knowing

until I spotted you.” I hear his footfall,

I don’t make a move, even as the words

leaving what you did, when you raced all the way up these

I spin around at the deep masculine voice laced with sarcasm. This man

my nerve endings when I see him

as the saliva in my mouth hits my throat harder than it usually does when I

hate it.

meek, but this man. The whole demeanor belonging to him scares me. My feet want to march up to him and trample

well-trained, scared mouse I'm

of women would be glad our paths have crossed, but you are not one of

pity is you coming here, spying on me like

“You remind me of something

he advances closer toward

I should've turned on

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