I have learned one lesson from my life
Nothing can kill you but your mind.
and nothing will end Giovanni but me.
He, The arrogant son of a bitch kneeled.
He kneeled before death welcoming it, begging for it.
And when he was denied he crawled.
He fucking crawled.
Like a whimpering little injured animal.
The one thing he is not.
He allowed them, willed them, begged them fucking begged them to walk all over him and bruise his fucking massive ego.
I cannot fathom why.
I do not care why.
But he did and in doing so he brought shame.
On me, on our mafia, into my fucking life.
How the fuck am I suppose to live past that?
Tell me?
The sight of him on the ground whimpering and the snarl that covered Zayden's face as he signed his death was disgusting.
And heres the thing, I do not care about Giovanni.
No , I only care about myself and how that makes me fucking look .
I'm not a coward.
But this.
Ohhhh the way this will be the ultimate leverage for others.
I should kill him, Should burn him like I promised right fucking now and as much as I wish I could ,I can't.
I stare at him ,hands laying limp at his side as he looks up to the roof as if the world has crumbled.
And for him, it may aswell have.
"You deserve to fucking die" I look back up at the roof trying to articulate his sudden interest in it as I comfort his current state.
"What the fucking hell is wrong with you" I yell the words this time, inconsiderate of the other people residing in his home.
He stays unresponsive, his lack of communication a clear indication of his anger and grief. But most prominently his embarrassment.
"Come on Father" The word rots in my mouth
He stays in that state, shattered, wounded and consumed.
Consumed by his demons.
I bend down on my knees and take out my knife holding it onto his chin lightly as his head stays tilted upwards. He goes slightly rigid as if hes afraid.
Afraid I might do something.
Something horrible to him.
And I will, just not now.
I press into his skin, causing a slight drop of metallic, crimson liquid to fall onto the tile.
I tear the knife from his throat and he flinches as I do so. I laugh at him, at the situation he put himself in.
I would love to communicate my hate to him verbally. But it is so very difficult trying to explain something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable. Something I feel so deeply in my bones, that it can only be experienced in my bones.
So I show it.
______________________
Trying to mildly reverse the damage of my fathers disgrace will be difficult.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Constellation
Romance"blood on your hands they say- as though it stops there ; at your wrists, like a glove as though you could do all of this and there couldn't be a part of you that isn't stained or dripping" They say the loveliest angels make the cruelest demons an...
