The Gang Leader's Son

 "I'm very sorry for your loss."

 Why is that all people ever say to those who have lost loved ones? That was my first thought when people were coming to the after party of my father's funeral. I felt completely horrible as I sat on the couch in mine and my mother's very expensive modern apartment. I was dressed for the occasion well enough. A slender fitting strapless dress with black high heeled boots since it was winter in Seattle. My father had passed away from a gang fight. Trying to protect me actually, so I blamed myself a lot.

 What seventeen year old girl walks the streets at midnight trying to get some gum for her bad breath after consuming too much alcohol? The gang leader was after me because our family was left with so much money from my grandmother's enheritance, which is probably why I'm so afraid about living all alone with my mom and having to leave her for college after this summer. I'd always wanted to be a model, but do you think I could pursue in my dreams? My mom always quoted that I should always go to college, everything else was over looked.

 Mom was taking this hard enough, but for me, I was numb. Dad was everything to me, but I'd cried enough tears. I hadn't came out of my room until this morning when she made me go to the funeral, but then I decided I'd better pay my respects.

Don't ask me why I wanted to attend this little "party." I don't understand why people call it a party when clearly it's not. It's to celebrate someone's passing. Yeah, I get that part.

What makes it even worse is that my mom brought home a guy.

A guy that took part in my father's murder.