What it's like to fake your death

Chapter 1

When I witnessed my father killing a man in our living room. He threatened me because he was in the mafia. He was going to disappear, and he forced me to disappear with him. We faked our deaths and disappeared. My name is Merra Jackson. If you ask me to tell you my name before, I couldn't because I honestly can't remember. Now I know that you probably think that my father was an asshole but that's not true. It's not like he had a choice. After my mother died, we almost went broke because of the funeral. He was looking for a job and some guy, I don't know his name, hired him. It was good money, and he didn't really have any other option. I was sixteen at the time and if he couldn't provide for me then I would be taken away. He was the only family I had left and honestly, he was perfect for the job. He was what women would call handsome, a couple of my classmates even had a crush on him, tall, muscular, and he looked like a bodyguard when he wore a suit. Mostly it was because he was young, and he looked like it because he and mom had me when they were 16. His boss recruited me because I looked so much like my dad that we could pose as father and daughter or even brother and sister. We went on several successful missions together, such as Moraco, when we had to kidnap a man that owed our boss money and never paid him back, even though he could clearly afford it. You are probably asking why I joined them, well after I changed my identity, I couldn't get a job and I wasn't even planning on going to college. I had no future until my dad's boss offered me a job as my dad's partner and honestly it was fun. I loved watching people getting what they deserved because a lot of the people we killed or kidnapped were assholes. I didn't mind leaving my old life behind because it was shitty. I had no friends, no future, and no talent. When I got the job I found my passion, bringing people to justice and showing people that we didn't take shit from others. I lived with my dad after I joined the mafia. We lived in a huge apartment in New York City. I spent most nights alone because my dad went on missions that our boss forbad me to go on. I didn't think too much of it because the mafia business was full of shit, and it was just normal. When my dad's gone, I watch FRIENDS and eat sherbet in my pajamas. I wasn't allowed any attachments, so like no friends, boyfriends, or anything. Not that I minded, I loved being alone. Friends just talk to you about drama and shit, I didn't need or want that. Although, when I walk alone on the streets, I get looks from guys but, if they harass me then I hit them with the taster my dad gave me for my birthday. Honestly, when I walk on the streets most of the time I look like a hooker because I'm required to wear tight and sexy dresses when I have a mission when I must get the target alone. I use my age to an advantage because I can easily seduce strangers into following me to empty rooms. My dad doesn't mind because he knows that I won't let anything happen, he knows I'm too smart for that. Now look, I'm not book smart, but I am street smart. I know how to handle people, I'm not good at making friends or being nice, I'm good at being a bitch and scaring people away. The only people I'm nice too is my dad because, well he's my dad and I love him, but we have this weird relationship, I don't know how to explain it. We love each other but, we have a weird way of showing it. We don't hug, all my dad does is pat me on the shoulder or the head, which makes me feel like a dog. Occasionally, he'll kiss me on the head like when he comes back from a long mission. When we eat dinner, we don't talk, we just focus on our food. My mom was the life of the family and now she's gone.