9.) Stranger Danger - part II

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Chapter 9 - Part ll

~Leonardo's POV~

When a child is born, they're born with a sense of horror; they're terrified and full of anxiety from the simple fact of being separated from the tender soul who kept them warm and overwhelmed with love. This tender soul is called a mother.

In many cultures when a child is born celebration are held for the birth. The young couple are showered with gifts and intimate chatter of the bright future of the child.

The arrival of a child is a joyous time for families and friends. It may be a sacred time, invoking cultural ceremonies that have been practiced for centuries.

Although there are many ways of celebrating the birth of a child, they all have one simple thing in common: no matter where you come from, the birth of a child is a joyous occasion, with the significant power to unite the most stubborn family and friends together like perhaps no other celebration.

In my birth, there were no fancy parties a grand feast nor joy's chatter. There was only mourning and wailing; death was present, and the beginning to a horrible early life had begun.

As the righteous scent of Hazel appeared; my awaiting nostrils held the memorizing scent as a treasure for keeps. Each and every time I exhaled I loaned for the sweet scent, as if the lovely foreign scent belong to me. As if for some strange reason in another life this sweet scent once upon a time, belong to me and only me.

The once lovely scent of Hazel had now been replaced by an unpleasant scent of wet dog and male body odor. The horrible scent burned my nose with disgust, leaving a feeling of filth in my throat.

To this unpleasant smell I quickly rise up and cover my char nose with my right palm. I opened my eyes, and my vision was blurry, like wearing glasses in the rain. I blinked a few times and took slow easy breathes hoping for my vision to return the second time around. Once again I opened my eyes and concentrated on a single thing, as I slowly regained my vision I began to explore my surroundings.

As my vision cleared, I began to realize I was no longer in my Victorian room in southern Italy. Along with my vision my memory cleared and began to return. The memory of leaving the royal family was hazy and uncertain, like a bad dream or the ending of a mystery film. Only once have I visited the local theater, not because I was forbidden to enter one but because I preferred actual plays with real life actors on stage. I remember a few months back I visited one, and I was truly memorized by the actors talent, their dedication to act upon another's life was unmistakenly beautiful; from the classic dances they performed to modern playwright character lines, I was truly stunned; and may I add a tad jealous.

I scanned my surroundings, looking for answers as to where I sat. I felt a gentle breeze enter my body, and soon realized I sat on a king size bed fit for high status royals. The elegant bed was covered in a heavy white duvet with thin under sheets made of pure silk and filled with large pillows fluffed with foreign goose feathers. Surely the owners of such an elegant bed where wealthy, but such wealth could never come equal to the royals in Italy.

I dangled my legs off the large bed as I continued, I felt a stabbing pain on my torso as well as a tug on my left side, as if for some cruel reason one was tearing my limbs off my body. Determined, I stood and placed all of my weight on my right side. Although the pain on my legs and torso burned with fatigue, I was determined to search the "room" I was in. The medium size room was made up of two glass walls and one solid concrete wall, with two entrances one facing the left of the room which seem to lead to the inside of the house and the right side held hope for an outside escape.

As I limped across the room I passed a large mirror and saw a distinguishing reflection. I faced and saw the classic body length mirror. I was dumbfounded at what I saw in the ivory mirror. I saw myself staring back with a naked upper body and a pair of silk night pants covering my legs. I touched my face fascinated by the fresh dark purple-bluish bruises on my cheeks as well as thin pink bruise on both sides of my temple which was covered in a white bandage. I signed in both frustration and fatigue, and so did my reflection. As I continue to examine my body I saw a large bandage wrapped around my chest and as I pressed the top of my chest I felt a sudden burn, like hot iron on water.

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