Taglione || Mafia's Law

The father - Part I

"Listen, Natalia... I don't know if I'm going to be able to visit next time."

The look on my face was definitely not a pleased one, since my father avoided my gaze as he got closer, ready to hug me. I backed away before he had the chance to get close enough.

"Dad, what's happening?"

 A short moment of silence followed where he refused to look at me and kept moving his hand through his short hair.

"You don't have to worry. I'll be back soon."

He left before I got the chance to ask him anything else. This was not like him. But was also not "unlike" him. My body refused to move. I didn't try to follow him outside or cause a big fuss. Something was wrong and I was going to find out what.

In the morning, I decided to try and get out of the boarding school, my best excuse was an "overwhelming" need to confess my sins to father John. It was also a very lame excuse, if you asked me but I was trying to get better at lying.

"Please, Mother Veronica. I couldn't sleep all night."

I pledded as the old woman's gaze was fixed on my face and she didn't seem to want to change her mind.

"You know that my father was here yesterday..."

I continued, knowing that if I brought the pretext of my father she'd have to agree.

"He..." I paused, adding more drastic measures, as a fake whimper, to my voice.

"He said some things..."

At that, the look in her eyes changed from disapproval to pure pity. I almost wanted to smile but she hadn't said anything yet.

After a few moments, she finally nodded. "Go, my child."

I nodded back, pretending to sniffle. Good thing I hadn't seen her in the past week, otherwise she would've known about the cold I'd caught.

"God forgive me for I have lied to the poor woman!", was the only thing that came to my mind as I was making my way out of the school to the closest phone booth from that area of town. The only thing I had with me were some very well-hidden change and the small paper that over the years turned from white to a pale yellow color. That piece of paper held just a few messy written numbers but it was the only thing that kept me going through the last few years.

The first phone booth I got to wasn't working and I was already well past priest John's church. As I looked around, I realized that it had been some time since I did something as reckless as that. I got out of the school, lied about where I'd go, wandered around the streets all alone. That definitely didn't sound like good behavior. Except that I didn't care. I frowned at that realization but another look behind me and I knew that I have to get to a damn phone, fast. I marched down the empty street, desperate to get to the main road, where people were still hurrying to get to work and I wouldn't feel like I was in one of those stupid horror movies where the girl would get picked up from the street and she got killed while her organs... God! I needed to seriously stop listening to all the hushed chats that usually took place during lunch time.

Once I turned around the corner, the main street finally in sight, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I was so aware of my surroundings, of every person walking past me, of the loud cars on the road, the laughter coming from a group of girls that were walking in front of me. I wasn't used to so much movement around me, so many strangers. It felt like real life. 

I was just trying to get to that phone booth as fast as possible, make the call, and then... Yes, that's where the dilemma laid. And it looked like it was going to stay there for a while since a black car pulled near the sidewalk. I was so tempted to turn around to right where I'd come from. Mother Veronica was most probably already in full alert mood because I'd been missing for enough time to cause some worries.

The black car kept moving, almost in sync with me and when it stopped, I couldn't even breathe anymore. One moment later, a tall, blonde male got out of the driver sit and waved at the brunette that was walking behind me.

Thank you Lord. I was so close to a panic attack in the middle of the sidewalk.

I picked up the pace and turned on another corner. I finally spotted the booth.

I walked inside, closed the door behind me, even though I was well-aware that everyone could see me. The piece of paper in my hand was so pressed and folded that it took me a whole minute to get it straight enough to read the numbers. I could've memorized them over the years, except that I refused to. I always thought that if I'd have them in my head, they'd never leave and I'd be hunted on every step I'd take out of the school. Thinking about them as my escape, both helped me and broke me a little, with every moment I fought the urge to call the number.

My fingers were trembling as I was trying to press the numbers on the machine. If no one picked up, it'd be over. I didn't have other money with me and it would take me way too long to save others.

As I pressed the cold receiver to my ear, I couldn't help but murmur a few prayers, hoping that it was my lucky day, out of the 945 that I waited to finally make that call.

"Sì?", was the first thing I heard after the 5th call when I was already close to losing all hope.

I breathed out, totally unprepared for the sound of that familiar, soothing voice.

My lips were trembling too, as I fought to hold the receiver right.

"It's me. It's Natalia..."

A long pause followed and a moment later, the person on the other line put the receiver down, ending the call in my face.

Now, that I didn't expect.

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Hello. 

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