The Mafia //h.s au

one.

 "I've lived an okay life," I utter to the mirror in front of me. 

Ever since I can remember I've been moved around from city to city. Uprooted from everyone and everything I love just to move somewhere new and start again. If you must ask, it was not my decision, it was at the hands of my father and his never-ending job as a Federal agent. He deals with mostly high scale organized crime and troubled youth. 

I hated moving. The overwhelming anxiety of trying to make temporary friends or fit into certain groups always sat on my shoulders like a yoke full of rocks. I was always an outgoing girl, but I never really had the chance to show anyone my real personality before I had to pack it all away into a cardboard box, shove it into a U-Haul and start again. 

"I've lived an okay life," I repeat.

My mother was my very best friend. More of a friend than a mother to me, which I had zero problems with. Dad always scolded my mom for being so lenient with me as a child, he felt I needed more discipline, and coming from a Federal agent she expected nothing less of him. 

Then she got sick. Cancer took her so swiftly and silently that I and my father had no time to process what had even happened. After her passing, dad turned cold just like a piece of him died right along with mom. 

Ever since then he's devoted himself to his work 24/7 and has barely set enough time aside as my father. It seems as if he's almost forgotten about me. As an only child with little to no friends available to me, things get lonely in my life. However, I could never complain completely because no matter where I moved, there was always one consistent place that always met me in a new town.

"I've lived an okay life," I repeat again as hot tears stream down my face.

My mother and I loved music, we always listened to her old records on a rainy day as we sat out on the patio together watching the oncoming storms go by. She loved to brush my hair and sing along with me. Mom was a huge Stevie Nicks fan and some would even say she resembled her in a way. She was a free spirit who beat to the rhythm of her own drum that not even my strict father could silence. 

Every time I moved, I always took the time to check out a record store to pick out her favorite record she used to play me as a child. It always reminds me that no matter where I may go, she will always be with me. Rhiannon was the song she always played for me, and I think it encapsulated her spirit perfectly. Since her death, I've stumbled upon 15 different pieces of vinyl in 15 different states, cities, and countries. Knowing that there is a record store close to where my new home just makes this sudden move feel right. 

"I've lived an okay life," I say one final time before I head out the door. Before every move, I have to remind myself that I have indeed lived an okay life and that it could be 100 times worse than what I am currently going through. It makes the transition smoother. 

With the notion of my "okay life" lingering in my head, I take one last look into our old apartment and slam the door shut. Maybe the next family in this place will live a good life this time.