Amadeus Irina ~ Part 24

Printer-friendly version


Audience Rating: 



Character Age: 


A lonely young boy is torn between two worlds. Which will he choose—that of his father OR that of his mother?


Amadeus Irina

By Shauna

Copyright© 2017 Shauna
All Rights Reserved.
Splash collage courtesy of Dawn Natelle
(all image originals sourced from Creative Commons)

Author’s Note:
It seems that I unintentionally stirred up a controversy with my comments before my last chapter. To be clear, I was not complaining about 200 ‘likes’ (kudos, thumbs up) not being enough! Nor, was I fishing for compliments/comments…

I am genuinely happy for each kudo I get, as well as for each person that decides to read any of my stories. And, yes, I write the stories more for me than anything else—so, yes, it is up to me whether I continue, or not.

HOWEVER, when the kudos drop in half, especially when the major drop is over a few chapters, it makes me wonder. Call it vanity, if you like…

At any rate, it seems there is still a lot of interest in the story, so I will keep writing as long as I feel that I have something meaningful to write—AND the interest remains (and we all know how I gauge that…).

Thank you for all of the wonderful support and feedback!




Chapter Twenty-Four


I melt into the warm and tender embrace of my REAL parents. I am still at a loss as to how I got here—the last…how long HAS it been (?)…year(s)?...have been some sort of blurred reality.

I finally ask, “How? What happened? How did I get here? I don’t…”

Then bits and pieces of memories flood back to me… BAD memories slamming into my consciousness like a baseball bat to my head. Then, I have flashbacks of a cream…one that makes me feel better—that makes the pain go away.

I try and push the thoughts away. I try and rejoice in being back with my REAL parents…

Daddy says, “It’s OK, Princess. You’re home again—and this time it is to stay. You don’t have to worry about those BAST…err, THINGS that took you away!”

Mommy kisses me and says, “You’re safe, Love! Oh! This is Jenny, your nurse. She has been watching over you while you recover.”

The nurse smiles and says, “Hello, Emily. I know you are VERY confused right now. That is OK and normal. Can you tell me what you remember?”

Mommy and Daddy each take one of my hands and squeeze it in support.

I look at them blankly and wonder…

Then it hits me. I REMEMBER it ALL…

I want to scream at the memories.

I throw up instead—I think all over myself…and the bed.

All I can think about is the cream at that point. Where is my cream? It will make the pain go away…

I think I am whimpering…

I just want my cream!




I can’t believe it! She’s finally awake and looks like she is lucid—not the zombie she was when Chuck brought her home. Grace and I rush in to take her into a hug and she greedily hugs us back.

Of course, she has questions and Grace and I are quick to make sure she understands that she is safe!

Then, Jenny asks what she remembers and she turns as white as the sheets—then throws up watery, green bile all over herself.

Jenny does a good job at catching a lot of it in a bin, but it still goes everywhere.

Then she just keeps muttering something about wanting her ‘cream’.

Grace helps Jenny clean up the bed and Em, who just rocks back and forth, muttering she wants her cream the whole time.

She seems so lost and is completely oblivious to everything and everyone around her.

I give Jenny an alarmed look and she seems unfazed by the whole scene. She says, “Well, now I think we know the delivery method they used for the drug—a cream. She probably had some sort of hand cream or body lotion that had the drug in it, along with a transport agent, likely DMSO, to make it absorb better through the skin.”

She looks at Grace hugging and rocking our distraught daughter—trying to shush her into calming down. She asks, “Grace, do you have some hand cream or body lotion close by?”

Grace nods and I take over hugging Em as she quickly leaves, only to return a couple of minutes later with a pump bottle of body lotion.

Jenny takes the lotion from her and pumps a generous portion into her hand. She waits a bit for it to warm up and then gently rubs it into Em’s leg.

Suddenly, Em startles and snaps out of her stupor—only to start crying. She moans, “It isn’t working. I don’t want to remember! Make it stop! I don’t want to remember!”

I hug her fiercely and Jenny firmly says, “EMILY! LOOK AT ME!”

We all jump and Em startles and looks at her—a haunted look in her eyes.

Jenny smiles comfortingly and says, “Emily, I understand, Hon! I know you don’t want to remember. You are going to have to have LONG conversations with Greta, and your Mom and Dad, and your Sister, to work through this.”

She does a double-take.

She whispers, “I have a…a…a sister…?”

I hug her tightly and say, “Yes, her name is Amadea—we call her ‘Day’. I think you will like her… She came to us just a very short time ago—through foster care; like you did.”

I watch her. I don’t want her to think we were trying to REPLACE her.

She nods. The haunted look in her eyes is still there, but there is also something else… A stirring of…interest, maybe?

She sighs and sobs a bit. Then she asks, “Is she here? Can…can…can I meet her…?”

She is shaking like a leaf in a strong breeze.

My poor baby!

I nod and Grace goes to get Day…




This story was written and freely posted to
Big Closet. If you are NOT reading this story on Big Closet, you are reading a pirated and stolen copy of this story. Please immediately inform the host of the site you found this story on that they have a pirated copy of this story on their website in violation of international copyright laws. Discontinue reading the story and any other stories in this series or authored by Shauna on this site. You can find an official copy of this story by following this link to Amadeus Irina.


After we play through several pieces, I put down my bow and turn off the amp.

I sigh and smile at Day. I say, “I’m sorry, Day. I think we got off on the wrong foot and it’s totally my fault. I have…trust issues… Can we start over?”

She looks shocked.

I wonder if maybe I have caused TOO much damage with my bitchiness?

Then she faintly smiles and nods. She says, “You think YOU have trust issues... You ain’t seen nothin’ ‘till you’ve seen mine!”

She giggles and then says, “Sorry… I couldn’t help it. Anyway, I would really like to get to know you better, Kim—without the pressure of competition. I promise, you don’t have to worry about me trying to take away your slot in the scholarship roster.”

I nod as I look around at the expensive studio and play roll my eyes.

Day blushes and giggles again—then says, “You should have seen me a month ago. I was LITERALLY penniless—or, so I thought… Who knew? At any rate, my money is hard at work trying to keep the academy OPEN, not take it away from the people that can help make that happen!”

THAT catches my attention. I ask, “What do you mean, ‘keep it open’?”

She looks at me and asks, “You mean you don’t know? Does anyone? I guess that makes sense—in its own stupid way. The Board of Directors is trying to shut down the school. I can’t go into details…”

I give her a ‘dish it’ look and she shakes her head and says, “NO! I mean that… I don’t KNOW the details… All I know is that Momma and my lawyers are working hard at stopping them.”

I walk over to the bags of cosmetics and start sorting through them. I tell her to sit over under the bright studio lights by the wall of mirrors and hand her a makeup remover towelette.

“Scrub,” is all I say.

She takes the towelette and quickly scrubs her face—not there is really anything left from earlier.

I say, “So…what’s going to happen?”

I take the foundation and start applying it to her face in dabs, then evenly spread it out with a wedge-shaped makeup sponge that I moisten in the nearby sink.

She shrugs and says, “I’m not sure, but I THINK that we are going to win. I mean, I HOPE so. Just getting me IN was a boon—they tried hard to keep me out.”

That shocks me again. I ask, “Keep YOU out? Why? Close your eyes for me…”

She shrugs as she closes her eyes. She says, “I guess, like you, they thought I was getting a free ride. Plus, they don’t want ANY new students… Anything that might create a buzz and attract new blood.”

I start applying eyeshadow and think about that, while I start with a whitish-green that contrasts nicely with the blue of her eyes and her blond hair.

I nod and start applying the second color, a darker shade of green. I say, “I guess that would make sense if they want to shut the school down. I just don’t get WHY…”

I finish off her eyes with a sparkly bronze and blend the colors. Then I start applying the eyeliner in clean sweeps, giving her a semi-cat eye look.

She sits there quietly—letting me do my thing. It seems that she completely trusts me. I feel really bad about the way I treated her. She is actually very nice.

I load the mascara wand with a heavy load of fiber-filled blackness—after I curl her lashes. Then I apply three coats of the lash-lengthening goodness.

I say, “You should consider permanent false lashes. They’re, of course, NOT permanent, but they last quite a while—you just need to have them touched up every three months, or so. They make SUCH a difference. I used to have them…”

I move on to applying her blush with a light touch of the brush, then a bit of bronzing powder to give her a bit more color.

Finally, I apply a darker pink lip liner to the contours of her lips and fill them in with a cute bright pink lipstick that I have a matching nail polish for.

I am just applying the second coat of lip gloss when I hear the door to the kitchen open and the distinctive click of stiletto heels descending the wooden steps…

Madame Levine’s heels quickly become visible, then her long, shapely legs, then, finally her whole body. She seems distracted.

I glance at the clock and see that we have been down here a little over an hour and a half.

She looks at Day and says, “Em is awake. It’s such a relief—and such a heartache. She is hurting so badly. But…she would like to meet you, Day.”

I look at Day; she looks confused…



I am impressed! The sounds she can coax out of that electric cello are sweet!

I may have to rethink this phobia Father had of electric instruments and get myself an electric violin!

We play several fun pieces—then she reaches over and switches off the amp.

Before I know it, we are talking about the evil BOD and she is putting makeup on me again. I tell her what I know, which isn’t actually all that much. Uncle Barnabas and Daddy think it is best if I don’t know all the details.

She has me distracted, none-the-less, with the talk, but I still feel the foreign sensation of the substances as she spreads them on my face. The smells are also different—not bad, but…well, different.

She is just finishing up with my lips—I am surprised at how little time it has taken her to do the whole makeover—when I hear Momma coming down the steps.

I look at her and smile, but am completely taken off-guard when she tells me that Emily wants to see ME.

I nod, of course I want to get to know her, but wonder the hurry is all about as I follow her up the steps, leaving Kim behind in the basement.


Author’s Note:
As always, if you continue to enjoy this story, PLEASE remember to still hit the ‘like’ button. THAT is how I will continue to gauge interest. Comments are, as always, also welcome, but, again, as always, please keep them constructive!

If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
299 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 2230 words long.