"That it should come to this!"

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                                                     Chapter Six

                                       "That it should come to this!"

                                            -Hamlet (Act I, Scene II)

EVERY SOUND SETS MY HEART into a frantic race and although it is late in the night, I cannot sleep

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EVERY SOUND SETS MY HEART into a frantic race and although it is late in the night, I cannot sleep. There is no doubt in mind that Marchisio will attempt his revenge on me or Giovanni. Perhaps I have underestimated how dangerous Florentian politics is? For, there is someone - a trusted someone within the court - who murdered the king; why wouldn't they do that to the fortune teller? Especially if they believe me to be nothing more than a street whore?

                I walk to my bedroom balcony and lean over the railings. How bright are the stars ... how beautiful the sky ... how vast and freeing.

                It is cold out, but I cannot return to my room. I cannot sleep on the bed. I shudder at the thought. The bed, it will drag me down. It will swallow me whole and suffocate me.

        My breathing constricts and I hold on to the balcony railings as my vision darkens.

        Breathe! You're outside. Breathe the air. Breathe!

        I walk back into my room only to drag my blanket and pillow to the balcony outside with me. Even though the ground is cold and hard, I close my eyes, hoping for sleep, yet afraid to sleep.  Afraid of what I would wake to or worse yet what I may dream of. But despite how hard I fight the battle, exhaustion wins and I fall into fitful darkness.

        Something is amiss. Something cold in the air. There is a frozen silence and then I hear the screams, sharp and short like a million pine needles stabbing.

        "Papa!"

        "Drink this Pet. Drink my little one. Every last drop." A brown hand hands me a mug.

         I drink as much of the bitter black liquid that I could. But then I see it.

        The shadow.

        It creeps along the wall of my Gram's wall. It creeps with its long limbs, and with its fingers elongated and multi jointed, it reaches out for me.

        I drop the cup and it shatters.

        My Papa shakes me. "Did you drink it all? All of it!" The urgency in his voice frightens me and so I lie, the first of many.

        "Yes ... yes Papa."

        Then numbness takes over me, slowly, drowsily I fall into a warm darkness.

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