The word "money" was never said in my family. Money was something private, but what I did know was we didn't have a lot of it.
I grew up with the bare minimum: old binders for school, hand-me-downs from my older brothers, and small meals.
My two older brothers had moved away and I was all by myself with an abusive father, and a druggie mother. What was my outlet? Baking at the bakery down town, which was my job. I work 3:30-7am, and 4-10pm, every weekday. I get payed 11 dollars an hour which accumulates to about $105 a day. Not bad, but after taxes, my parents rent, and my moms drugs, I am left with a mere $20.
Its 7pm, and the usually floods people have come and gone, and it is sort of a ghost town. If you get caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, you might as well wish you were dead. The Italian mafia is huge in my little old town of Danville.
It's very quiet, until the chime of the front door bells goes off. That's odd, no one usually comes in now. I briefly glanced into the lobby from the back room and saw nobody. Whatever.
"Erghhh"
Ok, what the actual fuck.
I put down my book and looked around, yet again there was nobody to be seen. My eyes travel downwards and to my horror, a man was bleeding out onto the ground. I was frozen. What the hell?
I ran over to the man who was now drifting in and out of consciousness. I lift his hard, muscly body into a chair raise his injured leg above his heart.
"Sir, sir can you hear me", no response "My name is Kelly, you've been shot in the leg its important for you to not move and wait until I call an ambulance".
Almost like magic, the man sat up, opened his eyes, and grabbed my apron as I head towards the phone. I look at him like he is a mad man, because quite frankly, I think he is one.
"Sit" he speaks, I noticed the accent he had and I can already tell I'm in some deep shit.
I do as told because I am not ready to die today.
"Zip it about this, capito?" he says with his fingers at his lips (literal translation: capeesh, common translation: got it? or understand?)
Once again, I nod head and watch his fingers travel from his lips, to his wound. In one swift movement, he reaches in, grabs the bullet, and rips it out. Gobsmacked, I look at him.
"cosa? Never seen a man do the before?" (literal/common translation: what?)
I shake my head, "uh-uh no sir, never".
He nods his head, "Whose shirt is that", he pointed to my brothers old band tee.
"my brothers sir"
"Bene, mia principessa? Se no fossero i tuoi fratelli, sarebbe un uomo morto." He smirked. (literal/common translation: good my princess! If it was not your brothers, he would be a dead man)
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ok so this is the first chapter to my first book possession. I honestly have no clue where this book is going, but i'm just following my own mind. if you have any suggestions do let me know. i will be updating every other day, if not everyday. gotta blast.
-jackie