Brooklyn:
After being forced to spend one summer in Italy with her grandma, Brooklyn always found her way back to the cobblestone streets but not for the feeling of a summer never ending, but for Valentino, a boy who radiates trouble and sees throu...
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POV: Brooklyn "You cannot free someone who is caged in their own self."- Anjum Choudhary Summer #3
I miss normal days in Italy; in fact, I miss normal days in general.
Lately, I feel as if I'm a ball in an endless cycle of tricks and turns, spinning me when I least expect it and throwing me around when I try to run away, but in Italy, it's different.
It's supposed to be different.
I rolled over in bed and sighed; the clock read 3:15 am, and I couldn't fall asleep, but the terrace looked inviting.
Getting up, I wrapped a silk robe over my body, walking towards the terrace's door.
I closed my eyes and took in the warm weather, which gave me instant comfort about everything around me.
Without thinking, I grabbed my art supplies and went back outside to paint the scenery. I have done it a thousand of times, each one capturing a different feeling.
In the past, it has been regret, happiness, guilt, emptiness, and anger.
The constant cycle continues, but I have a new feeling.
Confusion
It is a feeling that is foreign to me, pulling me in a million directions as my thoughts throw me against the walls of my mind.
My mind is a cage, and I'm the bird trapped within, being tortured by the thoughts that attack me at a million miles per hour.
I try to escape this hell, but I end up back where I first started.
The thought of him.
of what happened.
I'm stuck there, watching as my mind replays the scene over and over again, looking for a new perspective.
I am a captive tied to a theater chair in the box seat, in the front row, then in the back, , watching the act replay over and over again.
The view if somewhat the same, but the perspective is different.
Each one is me over the years since I first met Valentino.
I see my fifteen-year-old self begging to go back to him, screaming at me to not ruin everything like I always do.
"You know nothing!" I scream back. She doesn't know about what happened, about the tears I shed, or even about the fact that I'm not that girl anymore.
I wish I never stepped foot in Italy.
"Why wouldn't you just leave then," I hear 17-year-old me whisper, I look into her eyes and break, they looked so...lifeless.
"I—I," I stutter.
What's stopping me from leaving?
I should be preparing for my life at Boston University, but I'm here.
I'm caught in a whirlwind of irrational thoughts until I'm pulled out by a sudden sound.
I heard them before I saw their shadows bounce off my streetlight.
A group of kids rolled around the corner, laughing drunkenly as they stumbled.
I watched them curiously, not expecting to attract the attention of a girl with long black hair pulled into a high ponytail.
"Heyyy, who are you?" she yelled, probably waking everyone on the street.
I started to step back, but I decided against it.
I need something.
Anything to help me with this pain I feel.
I need an escape. ____________________________________ A/N: yea...👩🏽🦲
