Mazikeene is a name the whole Lombardi family knows. Mazikeene Valentina-Rose Lombardi was the Lomardi family's pride and joy until one night there was an attack at Lombardi's house, when everything went downhill.
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"Ma, guess what?I made a friend," a 7-year-old Mazikeene yelled, running up to her mother. "Mazie, what have I told you about finding strangers on the street and calling them your friends?" Avery said with her French accent coming out looking at her beloved daughter, "to not do it again." Mazikeene said slowly with a pout on her face, "Now, will you please go get your sister?" The food is almost ready. Avery said string the macaroni and cheese around the pot; "k" was the reply she got back.
"Lou, Ma made food," Mazikeene said, running into her shared bed room to see her younger sister playing with a stuffed animal and smiling at the sight. "What did I say about calling me Lou? I like Reine," the 4 year old said poking at her older sister, saying her L's like W's. "Well, if I call you by your middle name like everybody else, I won't be special. So can I be the only exception to calling you Lou?" Mazie said, looking at her sister with love in her eyes. "I guess. but only because you are my sister and I love you," Lou said, standing up and giving her sister a hug. "Come on, let's go eat. Ma's waiting," Maze said, kissing the top of her head. "FOOOODDD!" Lou screamed, running to the kitchen in the small apartment.
I woke up from the dream, which was more like a memory. I don't know where Lou is. But what I do know is that she's safe.
She's safe, locked away from this cruel world that we call home.
I took a shower and got dressed in white pants, a black shirt, and a leather jacket with some red Converse. It was 9:58 on a Sunday, so everyone was probably already downstairs. When I got to the kitchen, there was food in front of each seat; it was pancakes with jam, strawberries, and bananas.
When I saw the banana, I knew I wasn't going to be able to eat any breakfast. But that didn't matter; I still sat down, and when they finally noticed I was in the room, there were cries of "good morning."
"Why aren't you eating? Do you not like the food?" Nicklo asked, "she's probably being a spoiled brat," Vanessa said, looking at her brothers. "No, it's not that; it just has bananas." I replied to Nicklo's question, "So you're not going to eat the food because it has something you don't like on it?" "You are a spoiled brat." Matteo said he was looking my way. "No, it's not because I don't like bananas." It's because I'm allergic to them. And for god's sake, I'm not a spoiled brat!" I yelled, standing up, "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to find some food I can actually eat!" I yelled again, but this time while walking out of the kitchen and to the front door.
I somehow found my way into a cute cafe. I was sitting at the corner table with a caramel latte.
There was barely anyone in the shop so it was quite; there was music, but it was still quiet. I'm not one to cry over some mean comment; it's just that they don't know me; they don't know how I would sometimes not have dinner because all our money went to the bills my mother had to pay; they don't know how I didn't have someone to tuck me in every night; they don't know how many times I have lied to my sister; so Ma didn't have to tell her all our financial problems and just said,
"Soon we are going to have a big house."
Lie
"Soon Ma would be the one tucking you in at night."
Lie
"Soon we are going to grow up and live happily ever after."
Lie
"Soon, it's all going to be fine."
Lie.Lie.Lie.LIE
I looked into my sister's eyes and lied-I lied so many times. I had no idea if anything I said was ever going to be true, but she didn't know I was lying. I could say anything and she would believe it because I was her big sister and I was supposed to know these
