Page 33 of Arianna

That is what I do, isn’t it? I always put my sisters before anyone else, not caring if there were casualties who got hurt because of my selfish choices.

Now, I find myself in this predicament and nobody is here for me.

I am alone.

It has been three days since I was forced into a reality, and I still cannot wrap my head around it. I don’t think I will ever fully get used to the idea that my life as I knew it is over. Not that I mind all that much since all I’ve ever wanted was to leave that city, the heartache, and my parents behind.

As much as I hoped for it, a part of me doubted if the day would ever come, and now it is here.

I am away from it all.

The three families and my father.

I am also away from them.

My sisters.

My nonna.

They were supposed to be here, but it didn’t turn out that way.

Kadra chose to believe our father’s lies, completely disregarding the fact that I would have laid down my life for them.

Sirius betrayed me, shoving her sharp knife on my back, and I was left with no choice but to leave Mila behind.

Shut your mind off, Arianna. It serves you nothing to reminisce about a life that is no longer yours.

This is your life now.

“Ghost of You” by Mimi Webb plays in my ears as I approach the beach house that will be my home for God knows how long. The house sits by itself right on the ocean. By no means is it extravagant, but it has a cozy and homey feel to it. The kind of house that you see in romance movies. The back of the house is nothing but floor-to-ceiling, sliding glass windows with no curtains. Benjamin leaves the windows open all the time, per my request. I like to hear the ocean. The breeze and the smell remind me of that peacefulness I have been chasing all my life, and until now, never had.

That is why every morning I wake up and come to the beach. Sometimes, I sit down on the sand and look at the sunrise, and other times I come to run. I run as fast as I can, enjoying how liberating it feels.

It feels almost like I am running from the ghosts that haunt me.

The past.

The present.

Now…him.

My keeper.

At night, I am restless because I see him there, too. Goddamn tyrant. Not only has he taken over my life, but he is also infiltrating my thoughts and dreams.

Because I do dream about him.

I see him on these sands, barefoot, with his dark as-night hair blowing gently with the soft breeze. I recall the way he stood tall, proud, looking so intimidating, yet not once did he raise his voice or hands at me. Not once did he make me feel afraid for my life like the men I grew up with did.

Then I wonder what he thinks of me. Am I just the latest acquisition for his entertainment? Does he think of me as a charity case? A messed up little girl that he feels he needs to save.

All the above angers me.

Because I don’t want him to see me in such ways.

And why do I care?

Frustrated with myself, I run faster until I am out of breath and my muscles ache. I push myself harder, trying to leave him behind with all my ghosts, but it is useless.

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