Hallooooo, my darlings! Cupcakegirl10 and I have started writing a story together. It’s a historical romance adventure! Sounds fun, right? Anyways, I’m here with chapter one. The Italian words are in italics, and we’ll tell you the meaning at the bottom of each post.
Chapter One: Chiara
It all started with a simple difference, as most arguments do. Difference of opinion, difference of the heart, difference in politics… everyone is different. For us, it was a difference of religion.
Papà was a good man, with a kind heart. But when it came to the topic of religion, he and Siena Amalia had completely different points of view. And it appeared that Papà’s temper, so short and frayed those days, had snapped.
“Mamma says to follow your heart,” I trembled, stepping in between Siena Amalia and Papà. Mamma shook her head vigorously and grabbed my hand, pulling me against her and out of the argument.
“Now is not the time, mia figlia.” She whispered in my ear, holding me close in a storm of anger and tears.
“I am not an animal for you to control!” Siena sobbed, but her eyes were bright with anger rather than sadness. “I have my own beliefs, and I am tired of hiding them. I am a Christian, and I am proud of it.” Pride blossomed within me as I looked upon my sister, whose fists were clenched in defiance, her stance betraying no fear.
Papà slapped her across the face.
“Sergio!” Mamma shrieked, covering her mouth with one hand as she watched Siena nurse the red welt on her cheek.
“It’s time you learned your place, woman,” Papà sneered, turning to Mamma and raising his fist. I burst into tears as I watched the horrors unfold before my eyes. Mamma, my strong, spirited mother, shrank back and kept quiet. She was helpless to the plight before us. Papà’s gaze returned to Siena, who stood tall despite her obvious pain.
“You can hurt me all you want,” she hissed, her dark eyes hot with rage. “But you cannot stop a mind from thinking. And think I will.”
“Then leave,” Papà growled. “As long as you look upon God differently from us, you are no daughter of mine.” The words hurt Siena more than the slap. However, she recovered her composure quickly.
“I suppose this is goodbye, then,” she responded stiffly, but I detected a hint of melancholy in her voice. “I’ll be gone by noon tomorrow.” Papà raised an eyebrow, but didn’t object. But I did.
“You can’t leave!” I cried, hugging my older sister to me in a torrent of sadness. “I need you.”
“Chiara, I’m sorry, but America is no place for a little girl,” Siena sighed, stroking my dark hair as my tears soaked the front of her dress.
“America?!” Mamma burst out. “You can’t go there! It is not safe.” Papà glared at her yet again, and she fell silent. I pulled away from Siena Amalia, my resolve stiffened.
“If you’re going to America,” I said, “Then I’m going too.” Papà turned his anger upon me, and Siena Amalia shook her head vigorously.
“Chiara, no,” they both stated emphatically. There was a flicker of kinship between them before they turned back to me.
“You banish my sister, you banish me,” I continued stubbornly, glaring back at Papà. Tension was thick in the room, and for a minute I thought Siena and I would have matching welts. Finally, though, Papà relented.
“Go,” he snarled. “Both of you. But let it be known, you will not be missed.” Mamma could not hold her tongue any longer.
“I will miss them,” she snapped, opening her arms to us. We both held tight, not knowing that was the last time we would ever see her.
Sew, what do you think? I hope you enjoyed it! Make sure to like and comment below.
P.S. Enter TPPWC! https://nancydrewblogforyou.wordpress.com/2017/03/11/the-prettiest-pens-writing-contest/