My name Gabriella Nato Per Uccidere, which is Italian for "born to kill" Despite my surname I am seen as weak, vulnerable, dumb, irrational and an object to be sold and used, why? Because I'm a girl. I will never be able to claim my crown as Mafia Q...
Beep. Beep. Beep. "Ugghhh" I groaned as I slammed my hand down on the snooze button of my alarm clock in hopes of getting five minutes extra sleep, but all hope dissolved as I sat up in bed so fast I was dizzy for a second. The Galla! The fûcking Galla is today!
I dragged myself out of bed, wincing slightly at the purple and blue bruises that still scattered my abdomen. After papa caught me sneaking back into the house, and once he was satisfied with the amount of damage caused, he had locked my bedroom door and window. It didn't take long for the walls to starts closing in on me and I had spent the whole of Wednesday frantically trying to find a way out, now the thought of leaving this bedroom made me sick to my stomach.
"Wakey, walkey, it's Galla day!" My mama sang, walking into my room with a dress tucked under her arm. I just rolled my eyes in reply "today is all about you, and about how you look tonight. This is so exciting, it's the start of your life!" My mama squealed, I rolled my eyes again what I look like tonight will not define the rest of my life, I refuse to let it!She ignored my constant eye rolling and just carried on blabbing "I'm going to get one of the maids to run you a soothing bath, with rose petals and everything. While you're in the bath we'll do some face treatment, and sort out those nails of yours. Stop scowling, you'll get wrinkles!" She practically screamed, before a maid rushed in and started to run a bath in my conjoined bathroom.
I was told the bath was going to to be soothing, it was anything but. At first it was fine, then all the maids started coming in and putting sticky, sickly sweet smelling stuff on face, all the while telling me to relax. Well, it's kinda hard to relax when you're naked and surrounded by people you've barely talked to lathering...stuff on your face!
After they had finally left my face alone, they started on my nails, which was less tedious, but still annoying. I kept my nails short so I could ball my hand into fists, and have a tight hold on a knife or gun, for some reason that wasn't acceptable. They stuck nails over my nails and painted the new, longer, nails white then proceeded to add silver jewels. Since when do people put diamonds on their nails?
Once everyone seemed satisfied with my unnecessarily long nails I was allowed to get out of the bath and dry myself off, I was left alone for five minutes, and it felt like on the best five minutes of my life. However, those five minutes seemed to last all of five seconds before my mama was knocking on my door "come on sweetheart, we have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in" she sang through the door. What else is there to do? Plus the Galla doesn't start until 6pm it's just gone 12! "Coming" I replied, sighing heavily.
** ** ** **
After four traumatic hours of even more face treatment, body treatment, hair treatment and massages I was sitting at my vanity table, watching a professional make up artist look intently at my face, as if it were a particularly hard puzzle to solve. "You have wonderful bone structure, so much to work with" he said, in a weirdly high pitched voice for a man "right! Let's get started" he demanded, clapping his hands together in excitement that I certainly did not mirror.
One hour later the makeup artist turned my chair around, so I was facing the mirror once more. I looked...the same. Sure I had blacker and longer eyelashes, a Smokey eye and skin tone lipstick but other than that I look the same. Why had this taken an hour? "Oh my goodness, you look amazing" mama screeched, while I looked at myself in complete confusion, how is this any different to my everyday makeup? "Now it's time for the dress!" Mama squealed, she had been doing a lot of squealing.
The dress was white, off the shoulder and had a slit going up my left leg, it was plain white, no pattern but patterns or jewels would've ruined it.
Though the dress was beautiful, and I was sure I would look lovely in it, it just wasn't...me. It didn't make me feel powerful, and comfortable in my own skin. It didn't make me feel how the suits had made me feel.
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Th dress^^^
As I left the bathroom and stood in front of my mother in the dress, I saw tears prick her eyes as she gasped "oh, mio Dio, sei incredible!" (Oh my goodness, you look amazing!) "Grazie mama" (thank you mum) I replied, giving her a hug as she wiped her eyes. "Ok, let's get going. You've got a long night a head of you. A night you will remember forever" mama said as she ushered me out the door.
I walked down the stairs to see Al waiting by door "hey, sexy" she said, jokingly checking me out "hello to you too, handsome" I playfully flirted back, pretending to check him out as well "shall we?" He asked, holding his arm out for me "we shall" I replied, looping my arm through his "are you going to be choosing a bride today?" I asked as we made our way to the black limo "no, when I marry, I want to marry for love" I sighed as he said that. That's what I wanted too, but I knew I could never get it. "Hey, it's all going to be ok. I promise" Al whispered at he wrapped his muscular arms around me "how do you know that?" I asked, chocking down a sob "I just know" he whispered back, letting me go and leading me towards the limo.
Al opened the door for, like the gentleman he was, and then went around to the other side, sitting next to me. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it as a silent reassurance, I squeezed back as I silent way of saying I couldn't do this without you.
**. **. **. **. **.
The drive was short yet agonising, but soon enough. Too soon. We had arrived at a huge mansion, limos scatted around the acre long driveway , paparazzi buzzing around each one. Al got out first and opened the door for me, squeezing my hand one last time before my papa stomped over to us.
"Behave" my papas gruff voice said, gripping my arm tightly, I knew it was going to leave a bruise "yes papa" I whispered back as he let my arm go and smiled at the flashing cameras. Al returned to my side and took the arm my papa had just grabbed. He inspected it before his jaw clenched "bastardo" (bastard) he muttered under his breath "Al, it's fine. Can we just get this over with?" I pleaded, gently removing his hand from my arm.
I looped my arm through his once more as he guided me through the swarm of paparazzi. We made it through fairly easily and climbed the marble steps to the large entrance doors.
Here we go...
A/n I'll be updating more frequently since school is finishing for Easter break tomorrow!! Thank you to every one for so much support, I still can't believe more the 800 have people have read my story!!!
