The Reason I Fled

6: Hello...Father

I'm currently trying to write 2 books right now. So some chapters on this book will take longer to be updated. 

P.O.V {Midnight/Twelve}

Being shackled to a metal table sucks. Also having multiple officers bombarding me with questions is time consuming. I just sat back and kept a straight face the entire time. Not bothering to look at any of them or answer their questions. 

The two officers left the room clearly pissed from my lack of communication. But hey I don't need to talk.

You might be confused as to why I didn't care if I was caught, well... I need access to my fathers "business" a.k.a the Italian mafia. So the only thing I could think of was to purposely get caught and have them call my dad.

The officers enter along with a chubby lady. 

"Hello little girl. Can you tell me your name?" She says acting like she's speaking to a child. So unprofessional if you ask me.

"First of all I'm not a child so fix that baby voice before I fix it for you. Second that outfit your wearing is definitely not your size, considering half your blob of a stomach is sticking out. Third you don't need to know my name but since I'm here I'm going to be polite and give it to you anyway, my name is Midnight Medichi."

All three of them stood they're shocked. But after they heard my last name the two officers immediately walked out. Probably calling the one and only sperm donor! 

While I was waiting they took the cuffs off and offered me food and water. Which I refused, you never know if someone puts something in your food.

Literally four HOURS LATER. Finally someone walks in and tells me that he's here. Sighing I get up and leave the room, heading towards the waiting area where Fernando is most likely waiting ( Fernando is my fathers name). 

My face is blank. Void of emotion. Yes I know how that sounds, cringe right, but ever since I was a   kid people would talk about how my face was mostly all the time expressionless. I was one to never show anything and for that people called me odd.

Some even said that I wasn't human, back then I didn't understand why they would talk about me like that. But now I completely understand. After all, those same people turned up dead a year after I ran away.

My feet lead me towards my father and stop right in front of him. His 6ft3 frame towers over me in a dominating way, but the smirk forming on my face doesn't waver.

"Hello... Father." I say, the smirk on my face growing bigger.

He doesn't respond instead he nods over to the officer and walks out the door. Either he's leaving me here or I'm supposed to follow him. I'll go with following.

Walking out I see my father waited for me holding the car door open. I almost laughed at the sight. Never in my fourteen years has my father "the feared mafia boss" held open any door for anyone let alone me. It really was a sight to behold, my hand was itching to grab my phone and take a picture it almost made me smile, almost...

I hop into the car and buckle myself in. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I couldn't help but fidget with the ends of my sleeves and occasionally tug down my sleeve. You could say it's a nervous habit. 

The car started up and I watched as downtown faded out into a much more rich area filled with the upmost of elegance and class. 

I'll never forget the secret route I would use to come watch my family. Sitting on one of the branches of my favorite oak tree while casually looking through the window of my childhood home, watching as my brothers laugh along with a new sister and mother, and the smallest but noticeable smile that adorned my fathers face.