Fiction.

Chapter Four: Be Still

North Beach was a part of San Francisco well-known for it's high rate in Italian character. There were restaurants all over the area, always filled with tourists and locals just looking for something to eat. Many of the dining options involved Italian cuisines, so it wasn't much of a surprise that my family owned one of those restaurants.

Viola's was a small and friendly place, owned by both my father and Uncle Rob after being passed to them when my grandfather passed on and Grandma couldn't take care of the place by herself. Ever since I had first stepped foot inside of the place, it had felt like a second home. I was always there after school, visiting Grandma and Grandpa with a large piece of chocolate pie sat in front of me, instead of walking the distance I had to get home and doing my schoolwork. It always smelled like pasta and spaghetti along with floor cleaner, a mixture you had to get used to, and there was almost always a slight buzz of hyper conversation from the tourists an locals, both young and old. I absolutely adored the family feel.

But, like most thing, that had all changed as I grew older. Especially after I began to work there as way to help out my family. Now, instead of loving the hours spent at the counter, visiting with everyone and dreading going home, it was as though things had been flipped. I would stare at the clock for hours, just willing it to move a thousand times faster, and practically ran out of the door the second I was allowed to leave. All I wanted was to get home and relax, spend time playing video games and blaring music.

On a normal summer break, I received the entire week of band camp off, a perk of being the daughter of one of the owners, but after one of the other waitresses had to be rushed to the hospital, my dad had insisted that I be the one to fill in for her shift. Six until close. The worst five hours to work, because I hated getting home so late. Even if I wasn't going to be getting any sleep, I would have enjoyed some time to lay around before day two of band camp.

Although, I knew I probably would have wound up finding myself at Niko's eventually.

Around eleven-thirty that night, I pulled into my drive, windows down and music playing softly as I hummed along to the familiar tune. Despite how tired I was, I couldn't bring myself to get out and head inside. Every bone and muscle ached. My joints screamed at the slightest of movements. Walking up the steps and to my bedroom was too much of an effort for even me to attempt.

But it wasn't just that I didn't want to move. I didn't want to be cause for anymore rumors to surround me. Or Niko. He didn't deserve to be victim to something so ridiculous. He deserved so much more than he had, and me ruining one of the only relationships he had wasn't going to solve anything. I knew that the moment I gave up on sleep, I would find myself at his house, attempting to pass time. I couldn't continue to do that, especially after finding out about the rumors. If one single person found out, I would hate to know what that would mean for Niko and Michelle.

I sighed, closing my eyes and breathing in the cool air. I could hear the chirping of crickets surrounding me over the sound of my iPod. Every song that played seemed to relate to my mom in some way and it absolutely killed me. I missed her. I missed her so, so much. I mean, what sane person wouldn't miss their mom? Who wouldn't miss someone who was such a constant in their life? The things she put us through, the things she put my dad through, were just wrong. I couldn't forgive her for it. Not now, not ever.

The tears swelling in my eyes were unavoidable. I missed my life before. Even though she was incredibly drugged up on a daily basis, there were always those days when we were happy, when thing were okay with all of us. We acted like a family. We treated each other like a family. Those days were some of the happiest moments of my life. If I could have just one day will all of them again, one happy day, I would gladly take it in an instant.