She's an innocent girl who lived with her alcoholic abusive father. Her life was barley manageable, especially when she was separated from her biological family at such a young age.
When her father mysteriously dies from a car crash, she's taken to...
Nicholas gripped his dagger in his hand tightly. He hid it from the nurse, though, just barely. One look his way, and it'd easily be noticed. He desperately needed blood on his hands, or he may just lose it. His blue orbs glistened with an overwhelming need for violence and blood. It was his escape. Hearing other people's dreadful screams satisfied him. Music to his ears. They'd drown the things that were bugging him. And for a while, he'd forget. Forget everything. Once, it was snorting drugs and downing alcohol, but he'd moved on a while ago. But you know what they say, once an addict, always an addict.
The nurse waited impatiently for a response but never got one.
"You all are such sickos, and you'll get your rightful punishment in time. That's a promise."
"I-" Elijah stutters. He stutters.
Chaos has struck.
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GIOVANNI'S POV:
"We didn't-"
"You'll learn your lesson, soon." The nurse warns, walking away without another word. The simple words ring through my head. I'm almost certain that those words have a deeper meaning.
My breath hitches, I'm not breathing properly.
My fists are bleeding from when I punched the wall, I don't bother to try bandage them. My nails are so deeply dug into them. I can't feel the pain though; I haven't been able to feel pain in a while, until now. My body is so rigid, unmoving.
"Giovanni?" A calm voice whispers.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
"Just breath."
Elijah lightly puts his hand on my shoulder.
Just like before, I take steady, slow breaths, in attempt to regulate it.
I keep silent.
My nails dig further into my palms.
I'm perfectly fucking calm.
The familiar sounds of heels approach us again, but another set of footsteps follow.
Whispering goes on for a few seconds before they decide to speak.
"This.. Is the psycho and it's family." Her tone is laced with blank disgust.
Do we seriously look like abusers? Or is she just fucking stupid. We were practically trained to protect our principessa, we wouldn't hurt her. We all promised our ma that we'd protect her till the day we die.
My hand itches for my gun. I crave for bloodbath right now. My blood boils.
"Let us fucking see her," I snap, lowly.
She shivers slightly.
"No―"
"We do have to let them see her, legally. There is no proof of physical or mental abuse as of now.." The male doctor reasons with her. Logical, reasonable. Interesting..
