Perdita

19 | deja vu

P E R D I T A

Ariana Romano felt the sense of a deja vu as she stood there paralyzed with a gun pointed at her.

"Got you." Instead of her mother standing there, a middle-aged man in a full black uniform stood there as he grinned.

Ariana internally slapped herself for exposing herself. She should have stayed in the wardrobe like Ace had asked her to. He should have ordered her to stay inside and her trained mind would follow the command without any hesitation. But like the stupid girl she was, she'd disobeyed his eldest brother.

When she heard the gunshot go off ten minutes ago, Ace instantly was on his guard and shoved her into a wardrobe door in her closet. Stay there, okay? Someone will be sent here to protect you. He had said to her and she nodded meekly. When he got the confirmation from her sister, he left after closing the door - trapping her in the darkness.

The only light source was the light beaming through the crack of the door. She held her breath as she heard more gunshots and loud footsteps, letting her know there was more than one intruder. 

She couldn't breathe in that cramped space with that crack with a bit of light pouring in. It brought all of the memories she had been repressing.

Too small, too cramped. She hasn't been in this small space for months.

She could feel that ghost brush of its touch and the smell of rotting skin. Something bumped her and she almost screamed out loud. She quickly realized it was only clothes.

What's wrong with me, she asked herself silently. She never screams.

Curling into a ball the best as possible in the tiny space and she counted quietly. Counting helps, she told herself. To keep her mind off everything. She let out a strangled cry as she realized it didn't help anymore. Too used to the freedom she had, her mindset had been returning to normal.

She would suffocate to death if she didn't get out. And she did.

She decided to hide under the bed until someone came to protect as Ace had said. Painstakingly slow, she pushed the door open. It wasn't until it was two inches ajar that she peeked out. There was nobody in her closet. Releasing a breath, she got out of the wardrobe and closed the door behind her.

She whirled around only to come face-to-face with a man with a gun pointed directly at her temple. And that's when the snippet of her past life slammed into her brain.

The man looked into the mafia princess's eyes and felt satisfaction at what he found in there - terror. 

Ariana did not freak out at the gun. She did not fear the man who was threatening her life. Rather, she was frozen by the resurfaced memory, that would be now engraved into her mind.

She was supposed to be dead.

Murdered by her mother. A mother who she had loved so dearly.

Maybe this was the end of the cycle. Dying by a bullet in her head like she should have four years ago.

The gurgling sounds coming from the man put a halt to her train of thoughts.

A shocked gasp escaped her when a fist tore through the man's throat and another hand curled to hold down his shoulder. His eyes bulged out of his sockets and blood spilled out his mouth endlessly. The hand disappeared, pulling back, forming a large hole in his neck.