Rosalia Lombardo,
December 6th, 2010
I fell asleep early that night.
***
I had the strangest dream.
It began with my father walking into the nursery. He had been sobbing; I could unfailingly tell when he was sorrowful, he would be extra mindful and affectionate with me. However on this particular night his misery scared me. He kneeled by my bed for the longest time, not saying a word, simply watching me through teary eyes.
I wish I could’ve done something to lessen his grief.
Daybreak crept up on us too slowly.
He couldn’t deal with my sickness before and undoubtedly couldn’t deal with this evolvement, but he attempted to keep a clear mind. After he chose my favorite clothing, shoes and the gorgeous ribbon he had gifted me, he lifted me into his devoted arms optimistically saying “Let’s go to the doctor dear, he’s skilled to make it all better.”
The doctor accepted to help even though there wasn’t a lot he could do. He decided to use an unusual formula and technique for fixing me up; penning down the method into a memoir which would be lost for many years to come.
Both he and my father were sorely touched by my state. I was amongst the last of Doctor Salafia’s patients.
I was joyful to be in my favorite clothes and lovingly tucked in my new bed.
They titled me “Sleeping Beauty”, a name that’s been linked with me ever since.
***
It has been 90 years to the day since that faithful night.
I never awoke.
—
Ever since my friends and I visited the Capuchin catacombs of Palermo in Sicily, the memory of it is still one which stands out to all of us, one that left us tongue tied for the rest of that day.
The face of Rosalia Lombardo is etched into my memory, still keeping me speechless, so I really hope this flash will reflect all the sadness I personally felt 92 years after her birth, while I can’t even begin to comprehend the sorrow her family must have felt.
Like a dear friend pointed out to me, I know the language and descriptions would be too mature for a child to use. But I guess that depends on what you believe happens after death; maybe we get more knowledge.
great job, little creepy but great 
keep up the good work 
