Ruthless 18+

2

CHAPTER 2

They said to expect the unexpected, but never in my wildest dreams would I have thought life could be more bitter than hell.

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Standing there in front of my family's graves, I wished it was a mere mirage. However, it was real, and I couldn't do anything to change that. My heart was weighted beyond expression. I was responsible for these lives that died. Every year under the ground is lying there, hating me and regretting ever meeting me.

Tears burned my eyes, begging me to leave as I read their names carved on the gray stone. I tried to open my mouth to say something, but my thoughts were overwhelming, and I couldn't say anything. My legs became too heavy to support, so I let go of my tormenting strength and fell on their soil, wishing that somehow it would swallow me underneath them. If it was possible, how deep would I reach?

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Entering the house felt haunting; it was silent and cold. I placed the keys on the table and made my way to my sister's room, where we used to talk about boy problems and our shitty teachers. The world seemed so small back then; Mum's room smelled of roses like she always did. Her painting room next was where she spent all her time. I placed my hand, feeling the paint and the thick fabric as it softly rustled.

Most of her paintings were roses, like the necklace she gave us. I sat in her chair, taking off my accessories and placing them on her table like she always did before painting. Mere seconds before placing the brush on the plain canvas, I was taken away from my thoughts with a clicking sound from the table.

My eyes were forced on my necklace, which had released a tiny roll of paper from the stem of the rose necklace she had given to my sister and me as a birthday. Putting down the paintbrush fast, I rushed to open the paper.

Written in my mother's handwriting was a "red box in the storage room." Without thinking, I got up, headed to the storage room, and searched for a red box. After a few minutes, I saw it in the left corner above the closet. I pulled it and brushed off the dust with my hands. I opened the box, and it had three folders numbered in order.

Folder number one contained baby pictures of me and my sister; I pulled off one photo after the other, giggling at how adorable we were. I can't believe that two can become one within seconds. Someone who survived and was ready to start living was stripped of it. She was someone with dreams and hopes, but now she is a memory.

The second folder had a letter saying, " My roses, I knew I wouldn't last forever, and I never wished that day would come where you would feel the absence of a mother, but when it does come, then I'm sorry, and both of you should know that I love you more than the breadth of the universe that the human mind can contemplate. My love, I never talked much about your father, but I need you both to know him, especially after I'm gone. Your father is Daniel Genovese, and he is. "I gasped as my eyes scanned the following words.

"A mafia king; now you know why I never talked about him, but I won't lie; every cell in my body loved him. But this world is brutal and bitter. Nothing made sense; people were killing each other for fun, and that is no world I wanted to raise you in, so I ran away without telling a soul after finding out I was pregnant. It would help if you found him because every second that passes when I'm gone puts you in danger. People are searching for you both, and that's the reason we had to move a lot, and I had to teach you every kind of self-defense on the table. I'm sorry for everything I put you through, but you have to promise me that you will find him as soon as possible. I will see you in the afterlife, my darlings. Take care."

I stared at the paper in disbelief at what I read. How could my mum do this to me, to us? If she knew this world was messed up, why complicate it by putting a target on her back and, after all this, wanting me to return to that world? This makes no sense.

I opened the last folder carefully, wondering if I was ready. I placed my hand inside and pulled the photos out. It was both of them: my mom and my father. I have got to admit we look alike. The brown hair, the blue almond-shaped eyes, and that defined jawline. It's like I'm a copy of him and mum. I noticed there was writing behind the photo; it was an address to correct; it was his address.

"I guess we are flying to Italy," I said, looking down at the picture and placing my hand on my stomach. "This will be a new start for us."

I head back to my room and find my wedding bags packed, so I pull them out and go downstairs. I wouldn't say I like this house; I hate how empty and dull it is; even my mother's smell started to fade, erasing everything in it. I must never show weakness, I firmly told myself in the mirror. My family is buried, which only leaves me to bury myself with them. The soft, beautiful girl is gone forever. I emptied a gasoline bottle around the house and let the fire burn away Hope Moon.