She's an innocent girl who lived with her alcoholic abusive father. Her life was barley manageable, especially when she was separated from her biological family at such a young age.
When her father mysteriously dies from a car crash, she's taken to...
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PLEASE DON'T BE A SILENT READER!
AZALEA'S POV:
EMOTIONS SWARM in my eyes yet I let none slip onto my facial expression. I'm sat on the hospital bed, facing my 5 visibly distressed brothers. I haven't answered any of their questions and I'd decided I wouldn't give them any reaction. Only Elliott wasn't that surprised because he knew I was alright before, but for the others, I was crying a lot..
Giovanni is also back. He's standing in a dark corner, observing me.
It sends chills down my spine.
"Azalea," My eyes flit to Elijah. "are you okay..? Last time we left you were.. upset."
I subtly nod, lowering my head once again and lightly dragging the towel through my damp hair.
You may think I feel petty for doing this, selfish even. No, I don't feel that and there is a.. valid reason I'm doing this― ignoring them. I do, however, feel slight satisfaction from someone so desperate for answers like I once was.. but that's besides the point.
I'm ignoring them because I need answers from myself and I'm almost― glitching at this moment. I must be having a serious mental battle with my emotions and opportunities right now― I've been asking myself if I should accept my brothers, then a million different scenarios and possibilities pop up instead of an actual answer and it always just seems to leave me completely perplexed and clueless as to what to do. And somehow, these endings always somehow manage to leave me feeling closer to them than I ever will or way more distant than I have ever been.
A sudden wave of clear frustration surges through Nicholas.
"What are you thinking so so deeply of!?" He nearly shouts. What's wrong with him?
I flinch slightly, taken aback by the sudden outburst.
"A lot," I respond quietly. Simple and truthful.
"Mind telling us?" He asks, expectantly.
"I mind." My tone is blunt and serious. I do mind telling him what I'm thinking about, therefore, nothing will be spilt.
He groans and rolls his eyes, stomping off somewhere else in the room.
Back onto the topic of.. acceptance, chances.. I've only just realized I barely know anyone here. I don't know what they're like, I don't know what they've been through..
But they know― everything about me.
e v e r y t h i n g
―about me.
And I know nothing about them.
Whether it's from information that's been recorded on my records, or me telling them. They've now managed to figure every single thing about me in the past 3 months.
