The whole underground world knows of the infamously lost mafia princess Ariana Romano, the only girl born into the most ruthless and coldest mafia family the world has ever seen, who at four years old kidnapped by her own mother. The day where the R...
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"Five hundred and seven, five hundred and eight, five hundred and nine..."
In the basement, a girl in chains lay there on her pool of blood awaiting death like she did yesterday and the day before. For days, months, or years, she waited and waited for Death to come and take her into its darkness forever. People wished and dreamed the afterlife to be all light and bright. She imagined death to be complete darkness and obliviousness. Her escape.
Many people were afraid of the darkness but it was the haven for the girl. For the world, monsters hid in the darkness. For the girl, the monsters came with the light. In the darkness, there was no new pain or scar to come. Just the dull pain from the previous light. Darkness meant she did not have to look into the eyes of monsters.
There was nothing to do but stare at the darkness, waiting for the door to creak open - pouring the light into the basement that the girl came to despite so much.
But when the light came, first came the eyes of monsters. Next, they shouted words attempting to cut deeper into the girl's soul. But the already broken soul would just take everything they threw at her. Then the pain comes. Sometimes they would be the welts on her back, cuts on her arms or legs, carved words on her skin, or hands touching where they shouldn't be at.
When they were done with the daily torture, they left her on her pool of blood. Sometimes someone came to stitch her up, sometimes they left her for days to see how long she could survive. She always lived in the end no matter how much she wanted to die.
"...five hundred and thirty-three, five hundred and thirty-four, five hundred thirty-five..."
She have been down there in the darkness for so long to the point where she had forgotten her name.
All she had was vague memories of a one-floor house with a red door, a smiling woman with love and pure adoration in her eyes, and an orange cat. The girl cherished these few memories she had, even if it was only vague ones.
She wondered if that was a curse or a blessing. Is it a curse to know how it feels to be happy only to be down in here on her blood and shackled chains? Or is it a blessing to have something warm and happy in her mind to push away all the pain and suffering she endured?
She didn't know. She didn't know much at all these days.
Such as how long has she been here? It has been far too long to be days or months. So perhaps years. How long exactly? She did not know.
Or maybe it only has been days or months, rather than years. Maybe it just feels like years to her?
She did not know. Her mind was always a battle, fighting herself. It was the worst than these monsters can ever do to her, alone in darkness and slowly going insane.
She may hate the light with a passion but in these times she wondered how much time have gone by, she wanted the sun and count the days passing by. To stop herself from going crazy or unhinged.
