Metanoia (n.) the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self or way of life.
Part one
Darcy Russo a nine year old girl living in a run down orphanage on the outskirts of Athens, Greece has had to fend for herself for the majority of her life. Bei...
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I bend and twist my hair pin in every possible direction, attempting to open the locked door. Maybe I should have payed attention in lock picking training.
Eventually I give up, my back aching from sitting in this uncomfortable position next to my door for hours as I make my way to my bed. By now it's two in the morning and no one has come to check on me, probably assuming I need time to come to my senses.
I'm bored out of my mind in here. I have my burner phone but it can only be used for taking calls and I can't even pass the time by sleeping.
I don't even attempt to sleep at night anymore, there's no point. I'll just end up staring at my ceiling until the sun rises.
In order to sleep my body needs to be completely and utterly drained of all energy, literally to the point where I will pass out in exhaustion. This usually takes a couple days so for the majority of my week I walk around like a living zombie, sluggishly making it through the day.
I stare blankly at the wall, waiting for daylight to come. There's plenty of stuff to do in here, painting, reading or even knitting but I refuse to touch it. Those were all Darcy's things, and in my mind I am no longer her.
I don't paint like she did, I don't read like she did, me and her are completely separate people.
The sound of my phone ringing reverberates through my silent room. I look at the caller id, sighing before picking it up.
"Ivan," I state.
"Sin, I'm disappointed in you," He tuts, his tone deathly calm.
For some reason this sends a twinge to my heart. I feel guilty for betraying him after all these years.
"You know it was never my intention to disappoint you, I respect you Ivan but I can no longer work for you," I explain confidently now that there's no device in me preventing me from saying what I truly feel.
"You know it's not that simple," He chuckles. "Oh but it is, you no longer have any hold over me," I say, now irritated that he thinks he owns me.
"I didn't expect this from you Sin, we're like family," He says calmly. Maybe I did consider Ivan to be my family for a while but was that because we genuinely had a connection or because he was forcing me to live in his house and spend everyday with him?
"Families don't treat each other like they're expendable," I tell him, recalling all the times he promised he would kill me and replace me with someone better if I did something he didn't like.
He remains silent on the other end, something he only does when he's beyond angry. I hang up, realising that I just burned a pretty important bridge.
Ivan won't let this go, I already know that. It's only a matter of time before he finds me and makes me regret ever speaking to him that way.
