Death And Love Poems (2) Mafia Romance

4. Straight as a ruler

Karyme

Baba, mommy, Said... I am gay. I don't want to marry. Ever. I want to be free.

My mother burst into tears, my father into screams and Said could barely bring a word out.

That was the moment when I felt the chains breaking and the shackles loosening. But those chains were keeping together my life, the only life I had known till that moment. When they broke I slipped and hit the ground. Hard.

My father looked me in the eyes, grabbed my chin, and spit in my face.

"You are no daughter of mine." That was it. Those were his last words to me that day and for the next six years.

He ordered my mother and my brother to get into the car. They both looked back when he urged them to go but none of them dared to cross him. Said was only sixteen back then and frightened, my mother was obedient... She never stopped loving me, but her own upbringing stopped her from standing up for me. She loved my father and Allah, and for both, it was a sin what I was doing. She had disappointed both in giving birth to a sinner and a daughter that disgraced her family.

Love is never the only feeling one has. Unsurprisingly, people are complex. I love my mother. Still, the months that came after that moment were the most difficult of my life. I cried, I was frightened and I lost faith in myself and the world multiple times. In those hard moments, I resented her for not defending me and at the same time I just longed for her comfort. But in the end, I understood and forgave her as she, in the end, understood and loved me the way I am.

Freedom is an acquired taste. At first, it didn't taste at all as I had imagined it.

I had been the epitome of privilege, growing up in multi-million villas, traveling around the world in my father's private jet, and having every material thing my heart desired. After that day I had to sell all my designer clothes and valuable items to pay for food and shelter and live from paycheck to paycheck on my meager rooky journalist salary for years. I learned that freedom si damn expensive and priceless at the same time.

My relationship with my father has always been rocky. I was always a strong-willed child. Mother said I come after him but when two hard stones clash what you get is fire.

He wanted me to get engaged and marry when I turned eighteen. I wanted to study and see the world. My mother convinced him to compromise, so I got to study but had to accept the marriage that he would arrange for me after graduation.

It was supposed to be the son of one of his business partners from the Emirates. We knew each other. We were even friendly. Maybe if I would have been born different we would even have grown to like each other.

Aziz bin Husein al Rashid. I am staring at his photo for hours now.

He was a peculiar boy, shy and bookish but with the strange gift of reading people.

The peculiar boy grew into an interesting man. Yes, interesting is a good word. I thought he would have forgotten about me, until that unfortunate day when Ivan broke into our apartment and forced me and Dani to go with him.

Apparently, he wanted to auction me off to some enemies of my father. A very creative idea, I must admit. Daddy does have a few people that hate him. One of the ones Ivan extended an invitation to was my almost ex-fiance. Surprisingly he did remember me and even more surprisingly he bought me off and set me free.

Now Aziz... I don't know how far his affection for me goes but I need to dare ask him one more favor.

Aziz seems to know and frequent the company of Stefano Messina. Strange, I know. Not bookish and shy at all if he keeps that company, but the man he is now doesn't look like the boy from the past either. The gossip magazines in the west call him enticing, captivating, sexy, and many other epithets I wouldn't have associated with the boy I met many years ago.