A Scar Far From Healing.

'It took me a while to realize that some ghosts never leave...'

***

The window was pushed open, revealing a cloudless blue sky. The sun rose to illuminate the horizon, painting the clouds hovering over the city in vibrant orange and lavender. A gentle breeze tousled the leaves on trees outside, and the soft chirping of birds filled the air as they flew around and between the houses.

Standing before this window was a woman in a white, flowing gown with beautiful chestnut hair that fell just below her shoulder blades and eyes the color of a sunset. Her skin was fair, her lips full, and her cheekbones sharp. She stood perfectly still as she stared out across the city, taking in every detail from her vantage point. She sat on the window sill and stared back at the seven-year-old girl with chestnut brown hair just like her own, who was sitting on the floor drawing with crayons on a plain white paper.

"Bianca, can you see how beautiful Bella Notte is? Do you want to go out with Mamma?" the woman smiled down at Bianca.

Bianca looked up at her with her, with her eyes a light greenish-olive color, like a mossy olive and nodded with a smile.

***

'It took me a while to realize...'

***

The woman stood up and twirled around, the loose flow of silk fabric swirling with her movement. "Splendido! I shall tell your Papà tomorrow so we can all go out as a family," she said with an excited grin.

"Mamma, can you stay still? I want to draw you perfectly," Bianca said, then giggled as the woman made circles in the air and danced around Bianca, who laughed as her gaze followed her mother's movements.

Her mother twirled past a large mirror in the room and her gaze followed.

Bianca froze as her mother twirled past the mirror. 

No reflection.

Just her alone in an empty room. 

Her mother had disappeared.

***

'It took me a while to realize that my mother had died and that all this while I have been talking to her ghost, a fragment of her soul that was left behind in this world.'

***

The memory of her mother faded as the rain poured heavily outside the window of the chapel, the raindrops hitting the glass creating small ripples on it. The light reflected through the glass onto Bianca, who sat alone in the front pew. Her hands lay on her thighs, one resting on top of the other, and she gazed silently out at the rain. Her gaze was far away, unfocused.

The chapel's dim light cast a somber mood, the people fading into shadows as their murmurs of prayers for her deceased mother whispered through the air. What surprised her the most was that there wasn't one person crying.

When the thunder echoed loudly through the chapel, she jumped slightly and looked towards her mother's coffin.

A woman with long black hair, dressed in a black dress, came from behind and placed her cold hand on her shoulder. Bianca looked at the woman's face and saw how swollen her eyes were from crying. Bianca was glad she wasn't the only one who missed her mother.

"Child, the priest is done. Do you have anything you want to say to your mother before she goes?" the woman asked.

Bianca shook her head, and the woman furrowed her brows slightly, turned around, and walked towards the coffin.

Bianca then looked to her side. She could see her mother sitting next to her on the pew. Her mother was usually smiling, but this time she looked gloomy.

She looked at Bianca and asked, "Cara mia, do you know where your Papà is? I can't seem to find him. He promised we would go out to the city together again as a family, but he is nowhere to be found."

She sighed, looking at Bianca sadly.

Her mother reached out and grabbed Bianca's hand. Although she couldn't feel it physically, she could still feel the coldness on her hands.

Bianca couldn't hold her tears anymore and let them fall freely down her cheeks. She clutched her mother's hands, her fingers intertwining like a desperate prayer, trying to reassure herself that there was someone there. That she was still alive. Even if she couldn't feel the warmth of her mother's body, she felt a presence beside her, and that's all she needed.

***

'I waited and waited for my father, but he never came. That's when I knew he had abandoned me. But why? Why did he abandon me?!'

***

A day after the burial, the doorbell rang. Bianca left her drawing and rushed out of her room and down the long main stairs.

***

'I really hoped it was my Papà.'

***

Bianca reached the front door and opened it, only to meet the brown eyes of the black-haired woman who spoke to her at the burial.

"I am your nanny from today. Your father has assigned me to you. Call me Signorina Isabella," Signorina Isabella said with a straight face.

Bianca, who had a sad expression on her face, quickly dropped her gaze towards her bare feet and stepped aside. "Welcome, Signorina Isabella," she replied quietly. Signorina Isabella nodded and entered the house. "Did my father really send you?" Bianca asked as she closed the door.

Signorina Isabella glared daggers at Bianca and said in a harsh tone, "I said that just a while ago..."

Bianca flinched at her tone but still managed to ask in a stutter, "So he didn't say anything about coming back?"

Signorina Isabella grabbed Bianca's shoulders, her brown eyes now glinting with fury. "Listen here, Bianca! That is your name, right?! Your father has clearly abandoned you! He doesn't care about you. He doesn't even wish to see your face! Why are you still holding on to the hope that he will come?"

Bianca shook her head, her eyes wide open. She kept mumbling, "He is my father. He won't abandon me. You don't know what you're saying."

Signorina Isabella stared at her, clearly irritated. She grabbed the girl by her arm and forcefully pulled her up the stairs and into her parents' room.

Signorina Isabella pushed Bianca to the floor and pointed at the king-sized bed, yelling, "Right here, this is where that bastardo father of yours killed your mother! He gave her that poisonous tea and watched her die while she struggled to stay alive and begged him to help her!"

Bianca stared at the ground blankly, unable to respond. 'It's a lie. How did she know all that? There's...'

Bianca looked up and stared at the bed. She saw it: how her mother drank the tea and began to cough and hold her neck like she was struggling to breathe. She had her hands stretched out in the air like she was trying to reach out to someone. Her mouth moved, and the words Bianca could make out were 'Help me, please.' After a while, she could see the horrified expression on her mother's face, like she had just realized that she had been killed by her one true love.

Bianca's entire world shattered. Her heart raced rapidly, and her breathing became short and rapid. Something dark clouded her mind, heart, and soul. Slowly, she shook her head, her eyes wide open. Her eyes, seemed to hold a shadow, a darkness that spread like a stain. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, now seemed dull and empty, like two olives that had lost their luster.

***

'That day, I completely broke. It was also the beginning of my endless physical abuse from my nanny. If I failed or made a slight mistake in anything she taught, I would get hit.'

***

'But all that changed when I turned fifteen. By this time, I had carefully planned everything.'

***

The heavy scent of polished wood and aged leather filled the study, with its worn leather armchair and the scent of old books. Bianca stood rigid, her eyes locked onto the stern figure of her nanny, Signorina Isabella. The flickering candlelight danced across the walls, casting eerie shadows and filling the air with the sweet scent of melting wax, amplifying the tension that hung between them. Isabella's reprimand had been harsh, but Bianca was no longer the docile child she once was.

"Are you venting your anger on me because you hate my father?" Bianca asked, taking a step forward so that she was standing less than a foot away from Isabella. Her fists were balled tight at her sides, and she stared straight into Isabella's eyes defiantly.

Isabella froze and took a deep breath, pursing her lips together, trying hard to maintain her composure.

"Think about it for a second. Do you think my father would care even if I died?" she continued, her voice growing more strained with every word. "He would rather see me suffer in hell instead of letting me live."

'What is this girl saying? She's just fifteen years old...wait...' Isabella thought as she glanced at the whip in her left hand and thought again, 'What am I doing? She's right...venting my anger on her wasn't the best solution...I should have attacked her father, not her.'

Her grip tightened on the whip, but she stayed silent.

"Silvana Favoloso, that's your real name, right? You're my mamma's sister," Bianca said quietly, her eyes boring holes into Silvana.

Silvana's eyes widened slightly at the mention of her full name. 'This girl, when did she...?' 

Bianca took a step closer, forcing Silvana to move back until she was backed against the wall.

"How did you...?" Silvana mumbled.

"I know everything," Bianca said, her cold glare piercing through Silvana's soul.

***

'It was from this day my plan took action little by little...'