Stefano:
Sicily, Italy
Life is tedious. I thought to myself, flicking the pages of a book Flavio, my dad's assistant, had left for me.
I slam the book shut and throw it across my room as I lay in bed, considering what to do with my life in my current position. I felt cramped within the walls of my room, despite its hugeness. Withering red roses sat in a jar on my table.
I pulled open my drawer and ruffled through it. A dark dagger with a golden lining catches my eye. Its pretty design reminds me of my late grandfather; The smile on his face as he handed me the dagger when I was no more than 8 years old. I slowly unsheath it. taking a piece of cloth to clean the blade. I grin at the memories flooding my brain. I stand up, slowly moving towards a dartboard on my wall. I spin the dagger through my fingers and uncontrollably, I begin to stab it, releasing all of my anger. Occhio di Bue. Bullseye.
I pulled the dagger out, and shards of wood flew to the ground. I ran the dagger across my throat, flexing my stomach.
'I should stop,' I thought to myself as I sheathed the dagger and put it back.
I lay down and thought to myself. Why did I always feel so...empty?
How could I feel better?
There was a knock at my door.
It irritated me.
I ignored it as I gritted my teeth.
It was Giovanni. "Young master? I'm afraid your father has summoned you to the dining room for dinner. Thank you." he mumbled mockingly.
'I'm afraid?'
What was that supposed to mean?
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Sorry, it's quite short but suspense, am I right?
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