F R A N C E S C A P O V
The sun was setting over the building as I looked down at the body. Her body. I was perplexed for the first time. To not know that this was bad? Yes, I have been oblivious. Not only that but arrogant. Bragging about the number of lives I had taken. How many heads I had smashed into the cement. For those kills were for a reason, a greater cause. But as I looked down at the lifeless 15 year old in front of me I felt shame.
Kristen Delco. Daughter of Russian mobster Igor Delco. Her death would be in vain. Her life taken from her for what? To prove a point? To send a message? For fucking what?
I should've felt nothing, like every other kill, but I couldn't. I felt fucking everything. Emotions I don't recall ever feeling. The Delco's were horrible people, one of the worst mafia family's in the world, owning more then half the world. As a Italian I should of been proud, but I couldn't feel any pride in what I had just done, not when an innocent life was taken. Not when a fully grown adult woman had killed her to make a point.
I looked down at my hands. Red. Covered in this angel's blood. Oh, I'm definitely going to hell now. As I swiped the solitary tear running down my cheek, I looked around. Taking in my surroundings. The empty streets of Rome were silent. The warm summer air hitting my face as I ran out of the ally.
That was the last night I was in Italy, and I said I would never come back.
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Ｔｈａｎｋ ｙｏｕ ｆｏｒ
ｒｅａｄｉｎｇ
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D A I S Y | 18+
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