I admired the collection of imperial jewels as well as some clothes that are still in the archives. I heard stories I had never read before, and I cried when I entered the room of the last Romanov princesses, wiping away the tears before anyone noticed. I tried to imagine the fear they must’ve felt when they were taken from their home and made their family prisoners. The anguish and anger they must’ve felt at having their lives taken away from them, with no way of stopping it, being simply born at the wrong time.
Over the next two days, we continued our journey through Russia’s imperial palaces and museums, visiting them all and seeing all the records, rooms, jewels, and clothes that remained.
On the fourth day, in the evening, we were finally treated to a beautiful ballet show. I gaze at the stage with all the colors, dancers, and classical music. I feel like I’m in a fairytale, where everything is in perfect condition. I’m mesmerized by the dancer’s movements on stage, and I feel like crying; I’ve never seen something that was so beautiful and painful at the same time. I feel my brother’s stare weighing me down, maybe because of the tears flowing freely down my cheeks, but I can’t look away from the stage. I feel as if there’s a magnet pulling me toward it, not letting me go. Once the show is over, I jump up from my chair and enthusiastically applaud the dancers onstage, throwing them the flowers I bought outside.
Lorenzo’s hand meets my back and gives small push. I look in his direction and see him pointing to our tour guide, who’s calling us out enthusiastically. We cautiously approach.
“Come on; I got you backstage passes to meet the dancers; let’s go!”
I looked at my two older brothers, that were shrugging their shoulders and follow the guide. We entered through a door with two security guards next to it, which led into a narrow corridor with several doors scattered all over it, and I saw the dancers coming toward us, smiling and waving. We congratulated the whole team and chatted with them for a while before heading back to the hotel.
I lie in bed and turn over and over again; I feel tired, exhausted, in fact, but sleep seems to be steadfastly refusing to come; I look up at the ceiling and can’t see any stars; I feel frustrated and want to cry, not knowing why. I jump out of bed and go to the balcony of my room, sit on the chair there, and embrace my legs while looking at the sky. There aren’t many stars, and once again, the urge to cry takes hold of me; I miss home.
I pick my phone up and check the time, seeing that it’s already past three a.m. Tomorrow, we’re flying to Dubai at eight a.m. I don’t have much time to sleep, so I resentfully get up and go back to bed, finally falling asleep.
***
It’s eight-thirty in the morning, and I’m already on the family jet heading for Dubai, where I’m meeting my best friends. I look out the window and see the clouds around me; feeling sleepy, but I am unable to rest. I feel alert even though the sense of being watched has stopped; the moment we get on the plane, I check on my brothers, and they are already asleep. I get my e-readerand read the whole flight. When we land, I see my best friends out of the window, grinning and waving at me; I grin back and rush out of the jet to hug them.
As soon as we arrived in Dubai, we were immediately taken to the parachute jump site. The plane and the instructors were already waiting for usand asking about the place from which we wanted to jump. The options were jumping over thePalm Jumeirahor the desert. ThePalm Jumeirahwas chosen, and after some preparation time, we were taken to the small plane.
I looked at my brothers, and they both give me reassuring smiles. I feel Aurora squeeze my hand nervously, and I smile at her, trying to calm her down. The moment the plane reaches 4000 meters, it stops in mid-air, and the door opens. The overwhelming sensation of fear crosses my whole body; I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open them again, I see Vincenzo jumping out of the plane, and Lorenzo follows enthusiastically. Both my best friends seem a little anaesthetized staring at nowhere, which kind of gives me motivation to move to the door so that I can be the next one to jump.
As soon as I reach the edge of the plane, my stomach turns over, and I have the feeling that at any moment, I’m going to get dizzy. I feel my anxiety rising by the second, and my mind is spinning; I think about the possibility of dying from lack of air during the jump, and Iwonder if it would’ve been that bad a death.
“Are you ready?” The voice came from behind, and for a moment, I’m startled by how close it is, the instructor looks at me with a smile on his face, when he realizes how startled I am, I nod my head with little confidence, and he smiles. “On three, I’m going to jump! Come on 1, 2…” And he just jumps, making me feel that my soul was left on the plane. I let out a scream that makes my lungs burn, and I think I’m close to crying. Look down; it’s wonderful; it amazes me with every jump.
I look down, and the fear evaporates from my being; I lose my breath, and I’m dazed; it’s wonderful, the view, the free feeling of being embraced by the wind, the sun beating down on my face; I feel happy, fulfilled, unchained, enchanted.
I hear some voices shouting my name, and I see my brothers a little below me, and I feel overjoyed to ear the happiness in their voices. When I felt my feet land on solid ground again, I let out a loud laugh from the back of my throat and felt immediately embraced by my two older brothers. I looked up to see my two best friends flying toward us with big smiles on their faces.
The next morning, my brothers and I were taken to theBurj Khalifa,where we wereallowed to climb to the top from the outside, literally standing on top of the building. Just like the day before, I felt complete and fulfilled, hoping that these trips will help me find myself.
Chapter 4
After a month and a half of traveling and adventures, we returned to Rome in the middle of August, meeting my grandmother and mother at the airport and then heading to thefamily’spalazzoin the city. My dad’s birthday is in just two days, and the family will be gathering for the party. This is the first birthday that I’ve been allowed to attend. Every year for as long as I can remember, we have a family lunch and spend the afternoon together, but just as night falls, I’m taken by babysitters to my paternal grandparents’ house, where I stay until the next morning.
Before my siblings came of age, I was accompanied by them, and we bemoaned the fact that we couldn’t attend the parties. After they both came of age, I was the only one who continued to be excluded from this great event. As I grew older, I understood the reasons for this exclusion, but it never stopped being lonely and sad. As a weapon manufacturer, my father sells them to a wide variety of institutions, so every year, all kinds of people attend his birthday as a sign of respect. An enormous party, lavished with luxuries and surrounded by rich and powerful people, including various mafias from different parts of the world. “It’s business,” is what dad always says. The arms market can’t only benefit governments, and as such, criminal organizations are the main and perhaps the best clients, making the environment not very suitable for children. After all, despite being rich and very well-protected, we were still kids.
With my coming of age also comes new responsibilities, such as attending the party, being pleasant and polite, wavingand smiling, no matter to whom. At this party, everyone is important, and no one should be overlooked. It’s not something I’m particularly excited about. If this were three years ago, I would have been overjoyed, but now I just feel nervous and fearful. I know I’m safe and that my family would never risk my life, but the nerves insist on staying inside me, as if telling me never to be too comfortable, never to think I’m unshakeable or indestructible.
The night before my dad’s birthday quickly passed, and without a single hour of sleep, the nerves are consuming every cell in my body. I’m afraid of failure, of not being up to the occasion.
People have been running around the house since dawn, preparing for the party so that everything is impeccable. Hairdressers and make-up artists are at the family’s disposal so that everything is perfect. I look at my reflection in the mirror and appreciate the simple hairstyle that is being done to my hair. A simple, elegant up-do, accompanied by very light make-up with thin black eyeliner and my usual blood-red lipstick. I look over to the corner of the room at my white dress, covered in glitteranddesigned especially for me byDior,and think about the message my dad wants to convey with the choice of color for the dress.
Once I’m ready, I take one last look at my reflection in the mirror and see the professionals who helped me smiling behind me as they look at me. I smile back and thank them for the help, and they calmly leave the room. I go back to my reflection, and I look like a pale mirage, simple but beautiful as if I’m trying to summon an angel. I leave the room and feel my legs shaking a little. I hear the noise of the guests moving around downstairs, making my stomach turn, and I feel like I might trip and fall on the way down the stairs.
“Are you ready?” I look back and bump into my brothers,both dressed in suits and with bright smiles on their faces, as if we were coming down for a family dinner. “Chiara?” calls Lorenzo when he gets no response from me.
“I think I’m going to fall down and roll at someone’s feet!” I blurt out, without really thinking about what I’m saying, making them both laugh and look at me with a mocking face. “Stop laughing, I’m serious!”
“So, what do you think of using two crutches all the way down?” Vincenzo asks, extending his arm on the right side of my body, followed by Lorenzo, who does the same on my left. I smile and link my arms to theirs.
“Everything will be fine, right? I mean, nothing bad is going to happen to us?” I ask, feeling the guests’ stares as I walk down the stairs with my brothers.
“Chiara, look around, you’re safe, always. We’d never risk anything happening to you!” Lorenzo reassures me. I look around and notice an exaggerated number of armed security guards scattered around the house, all with serious and frightening features. Outside, there are about ten snipers ready to shoot if necessary. “If you feel in danger, call us or signal one of the security guards. They’re here to protect you, plus you know where the guns are hidden!” I nod without saying a word, watching Dad walk toward us as we reach the bottom of the stairs. “And Chiara, if you feel in danger and need to get a gun, shoot first andask questions later. We’ll sort out the rest, okay?” He tells me while looking into my eyes, giving me security and confidence.
“Okay, nothing’s going to happen!” I say with a smile on my face, feeling lighter and safer.
