First chapter... Let's go
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"Fuck society." I thought to myself, well more of yelled aloud.
Well that was a nice daily scream.
The days had gotten worse having been stuck at home for several weeks. I was under strict instructions by my mother to not leave. For what reason, I don't know!
"everyone sucks." I groaned pacing around my room throwing things out of their place.
Truth be told, I was making a mess just so I had something to do.
Sienna get a grip you're a train wreck.
Right, I'll be productive. Let me try something... therapeutic.
Fuck therapeutic, bitch you need therapy.
Don't I know it.
-
So there I was, in this small and compact New York City apartment that I referred to as my home.
Well nowadays it felt more like a prison.
I was perched up on my window with my knees bunched up, scribbling vigorously in my journal. I had always kept a journal, my mother thought it was important to always control your emotions but one thing she told me was to only write what you would want people to know and never what they shouldn't know.
I know right, that defeats the whole purpose!
Honestly, I kept it for her satisfaction. I never really felt the need to use it. But hey! There's a first time for everything.
I never understood what she meant by 'only write what you want people to know', but I never questioned her. I wholeheartedly trusted her so I did as she said. It always limited what I could write about because there was a lot that I thought people shouldn't know about me, like who I was or my tragic lifestyle.
I am still not fully aware of why my mother brought me up the way she did, I knew it was different to how everyone else around me was raised. I never felt like the odd one out though, I felt special so I didn't mind.
Whilst other young girls played with Barbies and experienced the joys of colouring, my childhood consisted of intense training and a strict education.
Though not the type you would learn in school it was more beneficial to my situation. Well that's what my mother told me. It never bothered me though, I felt pretty badass because of it.
Maybe I just tell myself that to feel special.
Fuck it, I am special.
After a while of writing in my book of lies, I dragged myself off the window and stretched out all my bones as they were beginning to cramp up.
Gosh I'm really fucking unfit.
I headed to my bathroom to take a shower before my mother arrived home, she was at work and I knew she would yell at me if she came back and I hadn't showered already.
And let me tell you, hearing an angry Italian mother yell at you is very scary.
I did the usual, you know, wash my hair, shave and exfoliate my delicate, tanned skin and sing along to my R&B playlist, which I pride myself in. I switched off the shower after my mini concert and patted myself dry before moisturising and dressing myself as well as running a comb through my hair.
As I tidied my things away in the bathroom, I realise I have multiple missed calls from my mom. What could be so urgent? I go to turn the music off my phone when I see her name pop up on the top of my phone.
*Hide! Go to the place now and don't come out no matter what. I love you Mia figlia .* (my daughter)
Now I know what you're thinking... this sounds like a movie, well my life is far from a movie, though sometimes I'm think it would be fun if people knew my story.
'The place' was a small hidden compartment in my home, ever since I could understand the world my mom told me that whenever I was in danger she would alert me to come hide here, it was completely invisible so if you never knew about it you wouldn't even notice it was there.
I felt fear build up in my heart but I did as she said. I grabbed my phone and switched it to silent before running and hiding in the place. My heart rate rapidly increased at the thought of the unknown. I wasn't aware of what was going on or why I had to come here.
Me being a control freak, I felt the need to always know what was going on so this... yeah it drove me insane.
My questions were soon answered as not long after, the door was kicked in and I heard men with very thick accents swearing, I automatically assumed it to be Russian.
Maybe it was the use of the word 'cagna' that enlightened me.
I was confused as to why they were in my house but my broad questions were answered with the groans and whimpers of my mother.
Ok it was more like grunts and curse words.
I was about to burst out there and run towards her but I knew that if anything happened to me she would never forgive herself.
I had to plead with my conscience to stay put. This was emotional bait, to hear my mother in that situation was enough to make me wanna jump out and kill these bastards but I had to stay put and I had to trust my mother.
"Where is your daughter?" One said in a very stern voice.
"You have me, why do you need her too?" She says with no trace of fear in her voice, instead I heard the spite and disgust towards these men.
"Stefano stopped caring about you the minute you left, the only way to him is through the girl." The other man said in a more dominant and spine-chilling voice.
Through me? Who the hell am I to these Russian twats? I am certain that I cannot be of any assistance or importance to these heartless creatures.
"She moved out a year ago, even if I did know where she was I would never tell you!" My dear mother said, I could hear her rage building up in her voice.
"Then you shall die." One man bluntly utters without a sense of remorse in his voice.
"I would die anyway, I know what that life has led me too, I made that choice all those years ago, I have accepted it and now is when the time is right."
She kept repeating "the time is right" in her next few sentences, my heart ached that I couldn't leave and stop what was happening, I knew if I left it would have resulted in both of us dying so I decided against it. I could hear my mom's voice, there was no sense of fear, no sense of anger. This woman was strong thus she did not fear anything or anyone and if she were to go down, she would go down with pride and not let these bastards feel like they beat her.
It was silent for the next few minutes all I could hear was my mother's heavy breathing along with footsteps invading my home. I felt them pass me multiple times however they never caught on that I was here, hiding. I had to hold my breath and squeeze my petite body every time they did as the fear of getting caught corrupted my thoughts.
The last words I heard from my mothers mouth were "Ti amo." Before the silence, footsteps and heavy breathing were replaced with 2 gunshots and a thud to the cold wooden floor. I knew that moment that she was gone. I bit so fiercely into my arm to hide my cries, I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, I wanted to kill. But I couldn't, at this moment I had to remain sane and keep it together so I kept biting until the skin on my arm began to tear.
I wheezed with slight pain and began to massage the area to ease the stinging sensation. As I sat there in the tiny space, my sadness turned to anger, a thousand emotions were racing through my mind but the anger dominated them all.
I heard footsteps go towards my front door and I heard the wooden door slam violently. I cannot be sure that they left, the smart option would be for me to remain here for some time just to be sure. I made the choice to drift off to sleep, I knew by the time I woke up they would certainly have left and I would be safe to get out of here.
Or maybe I wanted to wake up in my covers with the sound of my mom scolding me about my messy room.
Maybe there was a part of me that believed that this, was all a nightmare.
...
I only slept for about 2 hours, my unconsciousness kept betraying me as my mind was bombarded with these graphic images that were haunting me.
Not to mention the fact that I was in a cramped space and my already cranky bones were probably suffocating.
Once I was fully awake, I clicked the latch and pulled the stiff door open hopping out.
When I say hop, I mean tumbled to the floor as my legs happened to fall asleep.
I knew they were gone but they left a very strong scent behind, I couldn't quite figure out what scent it was, but to me it just fueled my anger.
I cautiously stepped towards my living room, where I am greeted with my mother's lifeless body laid out across the floor. I notice 2 wounds, one to her head and one to her heart. I knelt beside her and lay my head on her chest as I cried out in pain.
'The dead are at peace whilst the world corrupts us and makes us believe that life is all to much better.'
She used to say that. Dark, I know. It's one of those sayings that is just installed in you're brain yet you're not sure if you have even comprehended it.
I don't think I have the mental stability to understand it at this very moment though.
Even while dead there was still not an ounce of fear in her face, yet I was the one crying out, I was the weak one.
I was always independent but I now had to fend for myself in a world I had always been taught was an agent of darkness.
I was never taught to fear, only fight. But without my mother, I'm not sure how to fight.
I needed to figure out what I was going to do now, there are these crazy fucking Russians after me and I had no where to go. I silently cried out for help from my mother, she was the one person I had and without her I couldn't do anything. I needed her.
Suddenly, something clicks inside my scrambled brain, when my mother was held captive she kept saying "the time is right." It confused me then as to why she kept repeating it out of context but I understand now.
Throughout my whole life when I asked about my father and whether I could see him, she always said "when the time was right." I never understood when that would be, but I guess now is the time.
I have to find Stefano...I have to find my father.
But who the hell is he and where the hell do I start?
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