St. Frank

"Forgive me"

"Amore, forgive me. Please, this isn't me." These words pierced through the silence.
The voice was blurred, I didn't recognise it. It didn't sound like Frank. It was a stranger, well someone I don't remember. I still lay on the cold floor blankly staring at blood droplets on the ceiling. I was paralysed with sadness. I was stuck, it was like someone was holding me on the floor. I attempted to get up but i couldn't I was so broken, I was stuck. Nothing could move except from my eyes, but I didn't want to look at anything.
"Baby doll, look at me huh?" A strong manly Italian accent asked.

I crunched my eyes closed, I didn't want to know who it was. A hand caressed my cheek softly. His thumb brushing off the tears. Thier hand felt warm and comforting. I looked up and saw a familiar friendly smile, the same crinkles around the eyes, the same dark aburn eyes of my fathers. It was bazaar, for so many years I have never needed him, so many years without him.

I forgot the smell of him, he smelled of freshness, like a fresh aftershave, the smell of that same fresh bazil pasta he would always have around the house. I have forgotten the same voice that would sing me to sleep at night, the same man that always promised to be there to protect me. The most unusual thing is he is the exactly how i remember him, when he was young. Before he left. I'll never know what happened, I will never be told.

After so many years he is now here to protect his little girl, at her worst lying on the ground like a child. Not knowing what to say, how to feel.
"Papa, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Papa. I'm sorry for what I've done Papa please forgive me." I pleaded tears starting to fill up my eyes, blurring my vision. He looked at me softly and frowned sorrowfully. He just looked into my eyes and I forgot everything, he just held me in his arms, I finally got released from this pain I had suffered and this was it. This was my release. I missed my Papa, I just felt alive again.

He started to laugh manically and my soul was crushed by that sound. The mockery of the only person I have left. He looked at me in the eyes and just looked at me in disgust. He loathed his daughter, his little bambino. He looked at me and I saw his disappointment. He looked at me in revolt. He grabbed at my chin, he held it squeezing his hands.

I started to panic frantically. I tried to move my arms and legs but I was still stuck. He smacked my face harshly, leaving some blood on his hands.
"patetico cazzo donna, proprio come sua madre" ("pathetic fucking woman, just like her mother") he stood back up and swiped his hands down, removing the creasing in his black shirt.

He put his hands behind his back and then slowly revealed a gun. A small, Black handgun. A man appeared behind him. A tall, thin muscular man appeared. Then that smell, that same expensive aura that followed my love.

Frank looked at me and frowned in disgust also. He had a small handgun. They both aimed them at me, I just lay there trying to move, to get out then boom.
"Goodnight Amore." They chanted.