Guns and Roses

Prologue*

three years ago

"Mom..." I called out. "I'm home. I had the worst day today and I'm not up for games." I threw my backpack down next to the door. God, I hate that place. Jen, the bitch who thinks she's queen bee at school, decided to target me. I'm only a Freshman and it's only November, so I couldn't have done something to piss her off already.

Well... maybe fighting back could have triggered her... Not my fault she couldn't handle some criticism. Bitch tried to slap me and to protect myself, I punched her. Nonno would have been proud, but the principal said it was "irresponsible" and I have "anger issues."

I walked past our family pictures. For as long as I could remember, it has always been me, my mom, her parents, her brother, her sister-in-law, and my cousin. She raised me while having two jobs and yet she had the time to be my hero. She's my best friend. She was there when I needed her. And trust me, I needed it.

At school, every girl's trying to be the "hottest" there. And the "hottest" in my small, little town, in the middle of nowhere, is skinny. As in borderline unhealthy. Not being into that, I'm curvy, as in a full hourglass figure. I don't have a tiny, twenty-five-inch waist, but I'm healthy. I love my body, even if everyone at school calls me fat. I have long pitch black wavy hair and ice blue colored eyes along with my thicker but healthy body. I have high cheekbones, big pouty lips, and sun-kissed skin. I also tend to be a smart ass and have the vocabulary of a sailor.

"Mom?" Where was she? I followed the smell of burnt food. She never burns food. What the hell is going on? I walk into the kitchen and scream. There was so much blood. It was splattered on the walls, smeared across the dining table and cabinets, and puddled on the floor. "Mom!" I ran to her body that laid in her own pool of blood on the floor. I quickly turned off the stove next to me and quickly called 9-1-1 on my phone. When I told the operator everything, she said that they were on their way. My eyes blurred as I swept my mom's blood-soaked hair from her pale face. I let a sob slip out. "Μαμά. Παρακαλώ να είστε εντάξει ... (Mama. Please be okay...)" I whimpered and hugged her cold body to myself. "Παρακαλώ ... (Please...)"