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...
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Please don't be silent readers!!
AZALEAS POV:
MY TEAR stained cheeks are obvious. My eyes are puffy, cheeks red.. but I'm not sure. I refuse to look in a mirror.
I lay in the hospital bed, frozen. If I'm still, time stops, and no one comes in.
My calm breathing and heart beating echoes in the melancholy room.
My eyes are closed, and I pretend I'm sleeping. I'm sure it's very obvious I'm faking it, though. I'm in a position that gives it away pretty easily. My hands are by my side, and I'm as straight as a ruler, stiff as a board.
No one has come in except for doctors occasionally checking on me. I hate my scars. I hate hospitals. I hate lots of things.
I just want a normal childhood and unconditionally loving parents. Is it too much to ask for?
After what feels like an eternity, I finally relax my previously tense body. I open my eyes. Though, I need a second to re-adjust to the blinding white lights.
I feel guilty, angry, and upset. So many different emotions all at once. It's overwhelming.
It feels like it's my fault that Stefano grew such hatred towards me. I've tried to deny it over and over again, claiming my thoughts are trying to go against me, and it's not true, but I'm not sure anymore. I think I'm losing it.
Everything feels like a blurry haze, a dream I've yet to wake up from, and I so desperately wish that were the case.
I just can't accept the fact that my secret scars are not so secret anymore.
I hear departing and approaching footsteps all at the same time. They're distant, but they seem so so so close to my ears, I can practically count every footstep without ever missing a single one. I don't hear thunder anymore. Maybe the storm has passed.
The silence and emptiness seem to gradually kill me. I feel insane, I feel like I'm not real. Just an illusion. I know I am because of the pain I feel right now. I feel it spreading all over my body like a virus, but I know in reality there's nothing there. Or maybe, there is, and it's just me going against myself again.
I hear the low screeching of wheels grinding against the spotless marble floor takes me by surprise. I flinch as a result.
I thought I'd gotten over flinching.
My eyes stay trained on the door since I feel like someone will come in here. If― When someone does, I'm not exactly sure what I'd do. I can't fight for shit so maybe I can pretend I'm asleep. That'd work, right?
Over the slow, deafening screeches of wheels somewhere in the hallway, I hear footsteps coming closer to the door.
