Mafia Princess By. Liberty Renee

Liberty POV Chapter 1: Home Sweet Home

Ten years later...

I put my Bluetooth earbuds in and play my music as I walk home from school. Today was like every other day and I just wanted to go home and read or watch t.v.. I turn at the end of the block and walk up to my house. It’s not huge but it's not small either. I live in a suburban neighborhood. We move around a lot so I'm not really close with any of the kids my age.

I walk up to the front door of the place I’ve called home for the past four months. I call it home but I don't really believe that's what it is. It’s more like a current residence. I grab the door knob and twist. Furrowing my eyebrows I wonder why the door is locked. Mom's car is here so she must be home. I grab my spare key and unlock the door. I walk in and shut the door behind me. Turning around, I face the living room. I frown. Were is everyone. “Mom, I'm home,” I yell. My frown deepens when I don't hear anything. Anxiety eats away at my stomach as I put my bag on the floor and walk to dinning room. I walk in and my jaw drops. I stop breathing. My eyes water but no tears come out.

I run towards my mom's pale body. Blood pulls around her unmoving form. I put my fingers to her neck and check for a pulse. I feel intently, clinging onto that little bit of hope she might still be alive. I drop to my knee when I feel nothing. She's dead. Not living. No longer alive. Gone. I close her eyes and kiss her forehead. Then I remove the emotions from my mind as I walk to my sister's room.

I open the door without knocking. I look in and fall to my knees. On the ground is my older sister's body. A slit along her throat. I don't bother checking her pulse. I already know she's dead. I walk over to her body. “I'm sorry Stacy, I've failed you. I should have been here and I wasn't. This is all my fault,” I say. I closed her eyes and kiss her forehead. “May your journey to the afterlife be lit by the memories of your life. May you find your way to the land of peace and happiness. Goodbye my dearest sister.” I stand up and grab my phone

“911, what is your emergency,” says the person on the other end of the line. “My mom and sister are dead. I don't know what to do. Their just dead. I got home from school and their dead. What do I do?” I ramble on to the person who picked up the phone. “Okay dear, I'm going to send someone there. Stay where your at. Everything is going to be okay,” they say in a soft voice. “Okay,” I say quietly trying to pull myself together. I hang up the phone and run to my room.
   
I pack my clothes and products in a suitcase and my electronics in my mini backpack along with my personal items. I run to my sister's room and grab her favorite necklace off her dresser. I run to my mom's room and do the same. I wanted something to remember them bye. I walk into the living room and start meditating. At this point I'm running on adrenaline and shock. The front door opens and my eyes shoot open.

Two big guys bust in. Their arms and necks covered in tattoos. "Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my house?" I ask. They taller one looks at me and smirks. "We're the ones who did that and we are are here to finish the job," he says pointing at my mom. I set my face in a cold glare. I grab my pocket knife from inside my pocket and try to find a way to distract them till the police get here.

Before I can think of anything the taller one runs at me. He tackles me at the waist sending us falling into the wall. I punch him in the face and he punches me in the stomach, knocking the breath out of me. I recover quickly and kick him where the sun don't shine. He bends over and I use the chance to get away. Before I can make it away he pushes me back into the wall.

A look of fiery anger sets over his face. His hands wrap around my throat, cutting off my air supply. I grip the knife in my hand and plunge it into his neck. Blood splatters on me and he lets go immediately. I bend over catching my breath.

I pull the knife out of the guys neck, noticing the snake tattoo along his neck and collarbone. I look up at the other asshole who came here and saw a slight smirk on his face.

"I always did hate Dane. He was always a bit arrogant. And a hothead," he says. I roll my eyes. My eyes travel right back to him in time to duck before he could punch me in the face. He recovers quickly and comes swinging again. I grab his arm and twist it. "Bitch," he lets out as I apply enough pressure to hurt.

I smirk. "Awe does that hurt," I say in mock sympathy. He twists out of my hold and knocks me to the ground. He puts his arm on my neck as he straddles me, cutting off my air supply. Thats twice now, I don't think that's healthy. I grip my knife and slice it across his throat. Blood pouring down on my face.

The door busts in and this time people with police uniforms come running in. My vision becomes fuzzy before everything goes dark.