Being a savant tortured me in therapy. The memories were so vivid, it was like it happened yesterday when I recanted it. Only it was worse for me than ordinary people. Most people's brains blocked traumatic shit out the moment it happened. Not mine though. I remembered fucking everything.
The smell of gun powder and blood in the air. The sight of grown men drowning before my eyes. The unmistakable sound of death when a bullet left the chamber. The bloodlust I developed as a child despite my resistance. I didn't want to go around killing people, but I wouldn't hesitate if I needed to. Another constant reminder of Don Angelo. Then there was the power I felt as Don Angelo's daughter and heir.
