Disclaimer: I don't own SVU. ... that's it.
Broken glass on the ground
Reflecting light from all around
These tiny pieces of my soul
In brilliant colors, greens and gold's
Bleeding life from inside of me
The crimson glass pouring out of me
Passion dying, losing spledor
From purple to blue, losing it's hue
My life in all it's stained glass glory
Nothing more than my tragic story
Central Park, Manhattan, NY
January 26, 2006
3:47 PM
I close my eyes, soaking in the warmth of the afternoon sun, and taking in the fresh air. It's good to be outside again; it's been torture being confined inside.
I hear a squeal come from the jungle gym, and open my eyes, quickly focusing on my daughter in her bright yellow jacket. I smile as I watch her chase a little boy around, a worm held firmly in her hand. Like mother, like daughter I guess.
I get up and walk over, catching her by the hood as she speeds by me. "Karma Grace, let's be nice and not traumatize this poor kid." I laugh, picking her up. "You're only five and you're already chasing boys. What am I going to do when you start dating, huh?" I ask, brushing her curly brown hair away from her face.
She just laughs, burying her face in the crook of my neck. "I love you, mommy." she says, her words muffled. I sigh as she displays anther trait inherited from me. I've always been good at charming people when I have to.
I turn my face and plant a kiss on her head. "Mommy loves you too, baby." I whisper as I make my way toward the walking path. I go slowly, earning a few glares from joggers, going as fast as my sore leg will let me.
I haven't gone more then ten feet when I hear my name called out in an all too familiar voice. I ignore them and keep walking, not wanting to even look at them, much less talk.
But one thing they are is persistent; at least when it comes to stuff they really want. "Rosangela Zoë, would you please stop walking? This really isn't good for your father's arthritis." she pleads. My mother, one of the proudest Italian women I've ever known, pleading… a day I though I'd never see.
I finally stop, but only because my mother cuts around me and steps into my path. "Get out of my way, Mom. I don't want to talk to either of you." I tell her firmly.
My father walks up and stands next to my mother, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Show some respect when you speak to your mother, Rosangela." he demands with a frown.
Karma looks and then waves her hand enthusiastically, beaming at them. I watch my mother look at her warily, backing away half a step. I sigh, setting Karma down. "Baby, why don't you go pick Mommy some clovers, okay?" I say, smiling as she runs into the grass.
I then turn back to my parents, glaring at them. "What do you want? What could possibly bring you to see me after all these years?" I demand using the same tone my father did.
They're silent for a few second, before my mother speaks up. "Lucas called us, told us that you had been rap… um, what happened. We wanted to see you, and make sure you where okay." She offers, thinking that that explanation is going to sway me.
I laugh bitterly, rubbing my hands over my face, wishing they would just disappear. "Funny, you're so worried about me when you find out that I've been raped, after the fact. But you didn't worry at all when I was in labor. You never called, or came to see me, to make sure I was okay." I vent, stressing the word raped.
"In fact I seem to remember you telling me that you didn't care what happened to me anymore. That you disowned me… I wasn't your daughter anymore. At least as long as I refused get an abortion." I finish, staring at them. Daring them to deny any of it.
My father is the one who speaks up this time. "We thought it would be best for you. You're too young to have a baby. It would have been better if you didn't have that responsibility. It would have been better for everyone." he says calmly.
I pull myself up to my full height, staring straight into the eyes of the man who used to be my hero. "You thought it would be best to end that beautiful little girl's life? Just so that your lives would be easier? Or maybe it was because I gave the Adessi family a bad name. I mean, come on, it wouldn't be the best for our family name if it got out that seventeen year old Rosangela Zoë Adessi was pregnant! God forbid high society find out that your granddaughter was conceived outside of marriage." I exclaim, getting really angry.
Neither of them can look me in the eye when I finish with my rant. They don't even bother to protest, telling me that my suspicions were correct. "But do tell me, dear parents, what is worse… having the world know you have an illegitimate grandchild, or having everyone know that you kicked your pregnant daughter out of the house? But don't start feeling guilty about it now. It was your loss, not mine…" I point over to where Karma is chatting up an elderly couple, who are completely infatuated with her.
I look back at them, my jaw set. "You've seen how I am. Now leave and don't ever talk to me, or my daughter, again. You made your choice six years ago… now you have to live with it." I turn and walk over to my daughter, beaming as the couple goes on about how adorable she is.
But suddenly that yellow sun doesn't feel so warm anymore…
