When I was a little girl I thought my mother was my whole world. She would talk to me, spinning tall tales of her own mother’s island, back in the Caribbean. I remember one of the few times she would hold me, I would snuggle up real close in her arms, her embrace, and put my head right in the crook of her neck.

There is nothing else like feeling your mother’s warmth, but especially hearing her voice so close to you. So close that you feel the vibrations right through to your body. I think I put my head right next to her neck because I felt her words would go right through me, and would become her. I know it’s stupid now. I was a kid, and it was one of the few times my mother would hold me.
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The first and last time I wronged my mother was the day I became Gia.

Some would say I was reborn, but I look at that day as one where I died. There were no words to express my remorse, the regret I had at how childlike words came to become adult hate. The worst part was that I was a walking ghost in my own home. I did not have a name for she took that away from me. I was a living ghost. It took me awhile to realize that I couldn’t continue to ask for forgiveness that would never come.
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It’s different now though. I can truthfully say there is not the same pain imprinted on my soul like before. Nikolas has made me see that. He holds me as he is sleeping now, and that is testament enough to my struggle.

Once I told him… I knew things were going to be fine. I told him I needed him, loved him, and he told me things would be all right.
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