Mafia Paradise

ving, I finally stop in fron

water fountain in the middle of the driveway. I guess you c

ish mafia. When he died of a heart attack, his wife, Cris

t least that's how Dominic Alfonso,

l a whole lot

d, seven-year-old self, went downstairs to cure my curiosity and my hea

a knife while aunt Cristina was tied to a chair i

do anything. I sprinted back up to my room and h

o be found. It was pretty obvious, even to my

as a fuck

at did

ng no

ns between papa and his 'colleagues', I s

teen when

mily to take over the Spanish mafia h

eason to be this greedy. He got caught up in all of

her, he would always help us when we asked. Yet, pa

than you receive. People will always hurt you

esdropped. He forcefully took me to the baseme

n who was bruised up and bleeding to his core. A man who shouldn't be suffer

ear old should be doing anything else, bu

pa handed me a gun. A gun, in the h

it meant nothing, as if this weapon cou

me what would happen if I didn't. He wrapped it around his fist and ga

r...My heart dropped straight t

all these men?' I had thought to myself.

didn't want to hurt him, but I did. I was selfish. I co

ody. The air around me had began tasting like poison, a type of poison I deserved for killing an in

and turned me around, lea

over, he took me to the basement e

every day after school, with random men. They ta

on to treat me like this. I remember the pain I felt everyday, lying on that basement

ng, papa had successfully trained me into kil

I was inheriting his position, so I never figured out

mental patient havin

feel a single tear

and grab my suitcase and purse from the back. Heading to the front door, I ring the do

same fuc

I was raised there for the first five years of my life. My pa

And fucking hit me. I cried and I still remember his stupid, useless words. Except they've b

te tratemos así. Ahora, ve a hacerme otra taza, perra!" (You're a fucking woman, so start acting like it. You are

ker. Yet, I never said that to him, I simp

he mornings for school, and made my own dinner and breakfast at the age of ten. It wasn't ever real food, just thing

allow my friends to come over. I was all alone. I felt

ibility to give them a good life. I don't get why they didn't put me

most special. Your mom is supposed to give you sex education and

was always taunted because my parents w

ls at school getting picked up by the

love me enough to do those little things

through the things I endured. I end up knowing that I cannot

of my thoughts whe

a

their way to her face. She was a beautiful woman on the o

pectedly nicely. "Bienvenida a casa, Elisia!" Mama exclaimed, ex

umatic memories come flooding back. It's as if all

f therapy do

ño!" A loud voice booms behind me. (

a

He was in his usual grey suit, and it's

ind thought so, but as time passed, and I grew up, I slowly realized this isn't what you call home. Th

o go bac

ing as if they hadn't traumatized me for life,

in my throat and re

mes?" Papa smiles at me, obviously fake and sarcastic. (Well,

r

y made it int

fuck is h

smiling

doesn't

appy to stay away as far as possi

hat, I hea