Chapter1
968 Words
Manhattan is a huge city. Lots and lots of tall buildings touch the sky. Cars honk loudly, and people walk fast. It's a busy, exciting place.
A girl named Hazel Romano lives in Manhattan. Imagine sunshine mixed with leaves – that was the color of Hazel’s hair. Her hair was auburn, like a beautiful, shiny penny.
And her eyes? Her eyes were like little green jewels, sparkling when she smiled.
Her skin was soft and light, like the petals of a white rose. She was a pretty girl, and when she laughed, her whole face lit up!
A young psychiatrist, her clinic was her sanctuary, a place where she helped others untangle their minds and find their paths towards healing and happiness.
She lived in a cozy Manhattan building with her lovely aunt, Sofia Bellini, enjoying the vibrant city life together.
She woke up early, got ready for the clinic, and caught the bus to get there.
She entered the Manhattan Psychiatric Center, and her senior doctor informed her that she had a VIP patient to attend to.
She is happy to hear that.
"Please let me know when the patient will arrive". "He is already in your room, waiting for you". "What is his name?".
"Vincenzo Moretti".....
She went to her room.
"Who would have guessed that fate would bring them together in this way?".
Hazel took a deep breath.
She turned the doorknob, the door clicked open.
Vincenzo stood alone by the window, her shining green eyes met his dark chocolate-coloured eyes as they scanned the faces before him.
Eyes that had seen too much, but held a strange warmth within their depths.
Beneath the expensive suit, his body was hard, years of training had sculpted him. A small smile touched his lips.
Hazel sat in the chair and asked him to take a seat. It was a small room, filled with soft light. Two comfortable chairs faced each other. A small table sat between them.
"Welcome, Mr...?" She paused, waiting for him to fill in the blank. "Mr. Vincenzo Moretti," he replied. "Just call me Vincenzo." "Alright, Vincenzo.
Thank you for coming. I understand you've been referred by your general practitioner, Dr. Albright?"
"Yes, that’s right. He seemed to think I needed... someone to talk to." Hazel's eyes were patient. "And what do you think?"
He looked down at his hands. "I don’t know. I’ve never done this before." "Well, then, let's start at the beginning.
Tell me, Vincenzo, what brings you here?" Finally, he spoke, his voice raspy.
"It's... it's my father," he said his voice barely a whisper.
Hazel nodded encouragingly. “Tell me about your father, Vincenzo.” He took a shaky breath.
"He's gone. He died two weeks ago." Vincenzo’s voice cracked. He looked up, his eyes filled with a raw, vulnerable pain.
Hazel saw grief, but something else too – a kind of profound disturbance.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," Hazel said sincerely.
Vincenzo nodded again, his gaze drifting to the floor. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "It's... it's more than just grief, Dr. Hazel. It's... I can't stop thinking about it.
About him. About... everything.
" He hesitated as if searching for the right words.
He looked up at Hazel, his expression a mix of confusion and desperation. “I keep seeing him, even though I know he's gone. In my dreams, in the street, everywhere.
It's driving me crazy.”
Hazel leaned forward slightly, her expression calm and attentive. "Tell me more about these visions, Vincenzo.
What do you see? What do you feel?".
Hazel cleared her throat. "So, Vincenzo," she began.
"How did he die, Vincenzo?". "He... he did it. He killed himself.
I don't understand. " His voice cracked. He looked away, his face contorted in pain.
Hazel leaned forward slightly.
"It's okay to feel confused, Vincenzo. It's a lot to process." "But... what if I could have stopped him?". Vincenzo cried.
"What if I had noticed something? Maybe I was just too busy with work. "Those are common thoughts, Vincenzo," Hazel said calmly.
"It's natural to look for answers and to wonder what you could have done differently.
But often, suicide is the result of deep, internal pain that others may not see.
It is not your responsibility to stop him but rather to come to terms with the action he took."
We can try to understand what your father was going through, and how his actions affected you."
She offered him a box of tissues.
"It's okay to grieve, Vincenzo. It's okay to feel whatever you are feeling."
Vincenzo wiped his eyes.
"I just... I miss him," he said softly. Hazel nodded.
"That's a good place to start.
We can talk about the good memories, the things you loved about him. " Vincenzo looked at her, a flicker of hope in his eyes.
"Really?"
"Yes, really," Hazel replied, smiling gently.
" She handed him a glass of water.
"For now, let's just focus on getting through today. One step at a time."
"Tell me about your father," Hazel invited. "What was he like?"
"He was... a strong man.
A businessman. Worked all the time. He provided for us, you know?
Never wanted for anything."
Hazel cleared her throat. "So, Vincenzo," she began.
"What was his name?".
Vincenzo closed his eyes tightly and said:
"Alessandro Moretti."
The clock on the wall stopped.
The hum of the air conditioner faded. Everything was silent. Impossibly silent. Hazel felt a strange pressure.
A silent question hung in the air.
It felt as though someone had
walked all over his heart and then left.
"Who would have guessed that fate would bring them together in this way?".
Vincenzo arrived at the clinic for therapy, unaware that this was the first step towards his ruin.
First step..? Nah.
- Writer
