"They say family is forever; blood is thicker than water. But what happens if all I wanted to do was kill my own family?"
A boy, Ace Moretti to be specific, was destined to be part of the family mafia. He had no other choice but to be in the mafia...
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- Unknown -
"She really is a slut" the head man laughed, as he leaned back into the chair. The younger girl watched, as the two of them continued to stare at a screen that the girl could care less about whatever was being watched. It was probably some other girl that they used just like they used her.
"Peasant, get your fucking asse up" the head man laughed once again, blowing smoke in the girl's face as she stood up on her wobbly knees. Her legs were too skinny to even hold the weight she barely had on her body.
That was what happened when you have been starved for 7 years straight. She had counted the years, telling herself that she aged up every new years day, when all the men got the drunkest and the highest.
"Take out the garbage" she knew exactly what that meant. Take out the bag that had a older girls body wrapped up, to be disposed of. But this time, she had decided that she would run away. She couldn't do this anymore.
She nodded her head, making eye contact with the head man before she diverted her eyes as quickly as possible. She then ran out of the room.
The young girl didn't know how to speak; she had never been taught. She hadn't been taught a single thing about her, other than the number that was tattooed onto her body at a very young age. She was number 29. The 29th girl in the line of food, the line for bed, the line for showers.
Always 29, never 28, never 30, just 29. Not even a name or a nickname. "What are you doing?" a gruff voice caught her attention, as she grasped the bag she had grabbed. She looked down at the bag, knowing the man would understand her. He just nodded, allowing her to get back to her 'work'.
That was what they did. They worked for the men here, including being beaten and hurt. It was all part of their life long job. It was what they were born to do, what they were to die doing.
She knew that the girl in the bag had done just that. The number of her favorite girl was written on the bag, which gave her every reason as to why she should leave.
She had to leave. She couldn't get stuck here like number 14 did. So, she dragged the bag that she knew was leaving a trail of fresh blood, to the side of the garbage bins, and then she checked that no one was looking, and that the cameras were pointed away from her.
She had nothing to lose. She had nothing to keep. So, she ran, into the dark of the night. She had no idea where she was or where she was going, only that she could see blue and red flashing in the distance. Surely that was something good? She didn't know, she had never been taught about the good and the bad.
She couldn't even speak a word, even if she did try, which she had, but she didn't know what to do. She never did know what to do. All she knew was that she had to use every last bit of strength and willpower to get her tired and weak body towards the flashing lights.
