The Polibio Enterprises is an infamous business and a notorious last name. Many know of it to be a gang with deadly rumors and legendary scandals. The name is famous through out Italy and the East Coast of America. Mattia Polibio is next in line to...
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Sofia:
I zip the last of my suitcases and sit on my now bare bed. I look at the room around me stripped of everything that is me. Three of my suitcases are lined up by the door filled with my whole life.
I look around and the memories of the last five years dance before me. Me at eleven years old running in here with my Mother being dragged behind me. I clutch onto her hand and don't let go as I gush about all the different colors and designs I want my room to be.
They weren't all good memories as I remember me curling up on my bed struggling to find breaths between sobs at fifteen. The unwanted visitor, the news of my mother being sick, her finals days, and now this.
It has been almost one year since my mother passed from lung cancer. After she passed things got hazy my brother who I used to be close to, became distant. My brother Gio started to party pretty hard after she passed and became friends with the wrong people.
Luckily he joined the military at eighteen and has been gone ever since, but at least he stopped partying like he used too. I was about to turn sixteen when my Dad decided I need to go away for a few months and stay with family. I went to Portland and stayed with my cousins. He said, "you can't heal in the same place you got sick in".
I guess he took his own advice and went to Italy where my grandparents are and that is where he met Katrina. "Katrina" I sigh my new step mother.
She is only twenty eight years old and they haven't known each other long. But she is nice I guess and makes my Dad happy. So now I have packed all my things and will be moving to New Jersey to start my new life with my Dad and Katrina.
Katrina lives in Jersey and is from Italy, where she knew my grandparents. Both my parents are first generation Italians from Naples Italy. My Mom and Dad moved here at eighteen to California where they met, fell in love, and the rest is history.
I have never been to the east coast nor do I know anything about it, except that it's cold. And that they are big on Boarding Schools over there.
I'll be starting E.C. Academy Boarding tomorrow, not that it was my choice. I think my Dad is scared I'll follow in my brother's footsteps and become a huge party girl if I go to a normal high-school. And I guess my grandparents recommended the place as a lot of American Italians go there, as it is also a well known school in Italy.
I don't have the energy to fight with him, not after seeing the fights he had with my brother. I've had my taste of partying and let me just say my Dad has nothing to worry about.
I grab my art bag and tuck the one paint brush that is trying to fall out back in. The bag is filled to the brim with canvases, paints, oils, brushes, and pastels. My Mother taught me how to paint as she was an amazing painter and photographer. It's the only thing I have left that is close to her. It's the only thing I spend my time doing now.
