18: Beatrice

I accepted the news that someone was trying to actively kill me with a great deal of grace. I only screamed in the shower twice. Granted, that was an hour after Alessio told me that I had been the target of the shooting, and the shouts were two minutes apart, but it was still only twice. I feel that under normal circumstances there would have been a lot more shouting involved.

There was a small reward in withholding the third well of emotion that rose in my chest. It felt like an anvil was pressing on my chest, crushing me from within. Each day it pushed harder and harder. I knew eventually I would give up; I would reach a point when I had too much, and I would succumb to the pressure. 

Luckily, that was not today. Two shouts and I had achieved the release I needed. 

The water of the shower coursed over my