I Pray For A Revenge
“I then took off my white veil which has been stained all over by blood. I cover his face with it. I knelt down, and I prayed.”
Monza, January 1609.
I stood there with a body laid hopelessly on the ground. The second blood had been shed. Corrupted by a misshapen love.
Nine stabs. I have done it to him as what he had done to her. Or shall it be even thousand more as the pain would be closer to how I felt of losing her? I looked down to him. Lifeless. I felt an urge of champion feeling coming out from my vein which with every beat it rushes out, screaming a winning shout to the dark sky. I smiled.
I then took off my white veil which had been stained with his blood. I covered his face with it. I knelt down, and I prayed in silence. It all went back to my head, the memories.
Resegone, September 1606.
A postman came by. He rang the bell. In normal days he dropped the letters in the wooden letter box at the gate and left. However, on that day he didn’t. I peeked out from my window room and saw the principle was walking towards him. They shook hands and saluted each other. The postman reached out inside his thick square bag which was torn in many angles a filled with old stains. He took out a brown envelope and a small box in his palm and passed them over to the principle. He then took off his red cap and looked at the ground, uttered something of which I can read from his lips, “I’m sorry.”
The principle called me out and I went to his room. It was a quiet afternoon where all the children of the orphanage were taking a nap. I shut the door. Then he raised from his chair uncomfortably, avoiding my eyes. I knew that it must be something about the post. The small box and the envelope were handed over to me. I opened the small box. I found a little notebook, written on its cover page “Elena’s Diary”. My mother’s diary. Then I opened the envelope. It was an announcement.
Of her death.
Resegone, April 1607.
I stood in front of the gate of the orphanage. My trunk was ready as much as my will. Convent in Monza, there it was my destination. I had applied to become as a nun.
Nobody there knew about me. My mother left me in an orphanage in the hills of Resegone when my dad died in war. I was 3 years old. Since then, I could only hear from her by her letters sent quarterly along with some sacks of Lyra to feed and raise me. She asked me to forgive her that she had abandoned me, as she wanted to devote herself to God and to live in solitary. But I knew, she went there to find herself a peace from losing her loving husband. How could I not forgive her? She was the only one I had in my life.
On the train to the convent, I was reading her diary. Not for the first time, but for hundred times since I heard about her death 14 years ago. I couldn’t help reading the last three entries over and over again.
Day 162
“I saw it again; Sister Virginia went into Lord Osio’s house which is next to the monastery. They are having an affair. Father GianPaolo has allowed her to leave the monastery. I have to let the bishop knows about this and expose this madness sin!”
Day 170
“It is midnight and I arrived back to the convent late. When I was about to enter, I saw Lord Osio was at the gate, going inside his carriage and left. I went to my room. I opened the door and found it was in complete mess. Somebody was here….”
Day 186
“I have been followed by a shadow, I am sure it was shape of a man, it must be Lord Osio. I won’t have much time now. I think they know that I am going to escalate the scandal and they’re afraid it can be spread…Lord please show me the light…”
There I knew it was not a normal death. She had been killed. Justice must have been upheld. My 19 years old immature heart went into rage of vengeance.
Monza, October 1608.
In the verdict, Sister Virginia is sentenced to be walled-in for 13 years as killing Sister Elena in the reason to cover the scandal. However, there were still some dots and I could not believe that she was the murderer of my mother.
Monza, January 1609.
I then took off my white veil which had been stained all over by his blood. I cover his face with it. I knelt down, and prayed in silence.
“Be merciful to me, O God, for I have sinned against you, by killing your humble servant. O God, be kind with him as you were to Zion, in rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem. Let Father GianPaolo sits close to you."
He was the true killer of my mother. He killed Sister Elena as he could not take a bad reputation of his convent. He went to her room late on that night, without her noticing it, and stabbed her to death. He left Sister Virginia’s hairpin there to consolidate the notion of the killer away from himself. And he took the right moment to perform the assassination as Sister Virginia recently had threatened all the nuns that she would kill them if they revealed the scandal.
But that day, justice won.
And I continued on praying.
