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MARIA

I danced a lot in my dreams.

That feeling of being so light on my feet, soaring across the floor effortlessly, leaping up into the air like a butterfly, hearing the crowd applause at the end of a glorious performance, standing there in front of them all, proud and relaxed, in awe of how many people love you.

It was no longer possible. Like that late afternoon, I woke up and could feel the tightening of my ankle. It always happened when I was idle for too long; that pulling beneath my skin. The uncomfortable tugging and pain searing through my bones. My shattered ankle healing. A reminder of what happened. My kidnap, my torture. A reminder that I was an innocent target, stripped away from my dreams. It still hurt from time to time. If I did too much on my feet, if I didn't move around enough, if I forgot that my ankle was busted and pulled a sudden move. Leonardo always made sure I didn't feel any pain.

But he wasn't with me anymore.

I sat up immediately after I woke up, my face scrunching into a wince at the soreness of my ankle hidden under a soft duvet. I sighed. My head didn't hurt anymore and the nausea had calmed down. But my throat was sore as hell. My eyes took into the room I was in. Then I remembered everything and my hand went to my scratchy throat.

The screaming, the panic attack, Luna crying, the whole world turning black.

Mammina.

Then my breath sharply hitched. She was there in that garden watering plants with a little girl. My mother. She was alive.

I was in a child's bedroom. My eyebrows knotted together as I looked around. Even the bed I was in was small.

It was tidy though; organised crayons on a wooden desk with some colouring books, arts and crafts. Teddies lined up on the bottom of the bed, shelves with girly items and toys, unevenly hung drawings stuck on the cute wallpaper. It looked like a cosy bedroom perfect for a girl.

Then I connected the dots. The girl I saw earlier. That must've have been her bedroom. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed, feeling uncomfortable. It wasn't confirmed but I had a feeling, a strong feeling that the girl I saw was that woman's daughter. She called her 'mama' after all. I needed to confirm if she really was the mother I saw fall from that balcony all those years ago.

I slid out the low bed and gently placed my feet against the floor. I was still wearing my dress but noticed a towel and some toiletries on the desk beside me. My eyes still felt a little heavy but I noticed that I didn't feel as sick as before or tired. Passing out helped.

Feeling a little hesitant, I still picked up the items and found a door connecting a small en suite. That looked girly too. I hated feeling dirty so quickly freshened up in there before re-entering and glancing out the window, pulling back the curtains a little. The garden still looked the same as before. I was no longer staring at that house anymore, I was in it.

I needed to find Luna and to see if I was hallucinating or really seeing my mother. So I forced myself to be brave and pushed the main door open, stepping out to see a normal, rustic but homey looking home as I moved through. Family quotes were on the walls and paintings. It looked pleasing, like the owner had spent their time decorating and making sure the small place was perfect.

But my pulse started to pick up when I began noticing the pictures I would pass. A man, a young girl, a woman that looked exactly like my mother. Or what my mother would've looked like if she looked happier. It dawned on me when I saw a painting of ballet slippers. That was when I could no longer deny the conclusion forming in my mind. Mammina.

My feet took me down the stairs. I swallowed down my anxiety and felt my heat race inside, my whole body felt tense as I moved. I felt like I had discovered something completely unwillingly, that I was in a foreign place I never should have discovered.

Hushed, incoherent voices filled my ears as I slowly walked down the steps, trying to avoid each creak as I moved, my hand clutching onto the wooden bannister.

I must've been close to the living room when Luna suddenly popped out of a white door, her wide, red tinged eyes meeting mine. "Ria!" She let out in shock, her arms extended and engulfing me into a massive hug.

I stood there in confusion, one arm wrapping back around her. "Luna," I could only say initially, waiting for her to stop cutting off my circulation. My cautious face softened when I realised how scared she must've been seeing me like that before. "Lu, are you okay? I'm sorry, I don't know what happened before—" Luna pulled away, already with tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked like she'd been crying. A lot.

"Don't apologise! Are you okay? I was just about to check on you. I was so worried!" I gently nodded, wiping her wet cheeks.

"Don't cry, bambina," I reassured her, struggling to see her cry over me. I couldn't hide my confusion. I felt disoriented and out of place. "I just don't understand what's going on. Where are we? Why have you been crying?"

"He said she was hit by a car," Luna whispered in a cracked voice, those eyes filled with despair meeting mine. My eyebrows furrowed, "what?"

Luna sniffed, trying to calm herself down. She was already hiccuping from crying. She couldn't stop her face from falling as the tears streamed down her cheeks. I looked at her with worry, wiping her cheeks. I hated seeing Luna cry.

"Didn't he?" Luna's low voice questioned, "didn't dad say that she died in a car accident? The whole world thinks she's dead." She wiped her face with her back of her hand as her hurt eyes met mine. My lips parted but nothing came out.

"Luna...are you telling me that I'm not crazy? That I saw..." Another door opened in the hallway. I turned and a walking stick came out first. My eyes widened as that same woman came out of the room, dragging her left foot after her right, her unforgettable grey eyes landing on the two of us.

She wore neutral coloured clothes, a long simple dress and cardigan, perfectly matching the atmosphere of the house. Her dark hair was loose on the shoulders and she had a noticeable, jagged scar down her neck.

The same woman as before.

Mammina.

My hand clutched onto Luna's arm. She looked just like her up close. My eyes widened. I was staring at a dead person. She was dead. I saw her die right in front of me.

"Oh my God," I turned my head away, blinking rapidly as I could feel my chest getting more and more constricted. My breaths were already becoming shallower again. Luna's worried eyes met mine as she noticed my change in demeanour again.

"Ria, Ria, it's okay. It's alright," Luna tried to comfort, her hands reaching out and landing on my shoulders, her grey eyes deeply staring into mine. My shaking hand covered my mouth as I closed my eyes and tried to breathe slowly, deeply inhaling and exhaling. I was freaking out again, panicked over seeing a ghost behind me, frustrated at myself for making Luna so upset. I hated having panic attacks, having no control over my own body and fearing the worst. There was nothing more tormenting than your own body betraying you.

"I won't lie to you, Ria," Luna said as I opened my eyes, beginning to calm myself down. I blinked a few times as I stared at only at Luna, trying not to get my heart rate jumping up again. "She's there. She's behind you. Our mother." My back tensed up at the thought. My eyebrows creased as I stared at her in disbelief, my mind spiralling out of control again. I shook my head, "Luna, please, I can't..."

Then Luna's eyes moved behind me. "Can you..." Her voice was soft. "Can you wait in the kitchen, please? I'll bring her in." I heard a door open and close behind me. My hand gripped onto Luna's arm. I suddenly felt a wave of fear hitting me, my whole body was rigid and my head was beginning to spin.

"L-Luna, let's go," I managed to say, I shook my heard ardently. "I can't be here—alive? There's no way. I saw her Lu!" Then the tears spilled down my cheeks at the thought of it again. That scream. Luna's crestfallen eyes gazed at me, tears welling up again. She sniffed, quickly wiping her eyes. My little sister was stood in front of me, comforting me when it was supposed to be the other rest around.

"I have questions, Ria," Luna said, her voice laced with pain. "I have lots of questions and things that I don't understand but," she sighed, those eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and sadness gazing at me. "The most important thing now is for you to go in there and speak with her. I already have."

I pulled myself together. My hand let go of Luna and I began to take in what was happening around me. My mother was alive and sitting in a kitchen waiting for me. If Sienna could be alive, then my mother could too. The overwhelming situation was finally starting to click inside me.

"I'm not giving her the satisfaction of talking to me," I then said in a harsher tone. I shook my head as my eyes darted around the place, "no. Where's my stuff? Let's go, Luna. I'm going to pretend this didn't happen."

"But you can't!" Luna's voice rose a little in desperation, making me stop and look at her again. Luna had a deep frown on her face. "You can't pretend this didn't happen. It did happen—it's happening now. Maria, don't avoid it because you're afraid. If you're not going to go in there for yourself, go for me." Luna's defeated face was difficult to look at. "I need answers too." I could not ignore the desperation in my sister's voice. She was right. I couldn't avoid what was right in front of me.

I couldn't believe I had my hand on the door handle of that kitchen. The kitchen inside my dead mother's house.

And she was sat there at the table with her hands intertwined with each other waiting for me. The moment I courageously opened that door was a shaky hand, my eyes landed on her and it was only the two of us in that kitchen.

Her shocked eyes met mine, wide and running all over my face.

"Maria..." Her quiet voice let out.

I shut my eyes immediately.

It was her. Only she had that kind of power when she spoke.

I could no longer deny what I had seen.

The Evangelina Antoinette Marchetti, my mother, my predecessor, my teacher, was alive sitting in the same room as me.

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~ Author's Note ~

Maria having a one to one conversion with her dead mother was definitely not what she was this trip.

How will her conversation go with her mother? Sweet or salty?

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