You Can't Escape An Italian Mafia

Chapter 1: Why?

Why? I ask myself wouldn't I tell anyone, why would I do this to myself?

These questions run through my mind like a view master, snapping into my vision. My mother and my brother, the only people in this world who seem to hold any sense of hope. That's why you're doing this, Emerson.

My dad has been an alcoholic for several months, but over the past few weeks, it's gotten much worse, physical, even. My little brother is only seven; his name is Ryan James. I call him R.J. for short. When my dad comes home in the middle of the night after drinking, I tell him to go in his room and lock the door, to cover his ears, too. Our dad only goes after me, anyways.

Last night was one of the worst. Usually he smacks me around a couple of times, maybe a few punches ranging from my stomach to my arms, but tonight was different. He whipped out his belt with the silver buckle and started slashing it across back, a searing pain ran through my body. The belt slipped as I turned towards him, ending with blood pouring from my nose. This went on for hours and eventually, everything went numb.

I woke up to a piercing ring, my dreaded alarm.

All I wanted to do was just sleep, stay in bed for as long as I could manage, but it was the last month of school. I'm 17, a senior in high school, and I didn't need to miss anymore days than I already have.

I could hardly open my eyes. I realized my cheeks were stained with tears as I sat up. Of course I would be lying in a puddle of my own nose blood.

Gross.

I got up and headed toward the bathroom. I looked in the mirror, no black eyes, but I had dried blood all over my face. Bruised fingerprints ran along my arms and wrists. Sore slashes covered my back. The only thought that kept me in survival mode: almost out of this hell hole.

I slipped off my sweats, unhooked my bra, and stared at myself; what have I turned into? I stepped in the shower; cold water ran down my body. God, it felt good on these cuts. I stood there for a while and fell into a deep train of though. Oh yes, why was I doing this again? Eight months ago, my mother got into a car wreck, causing my father to start heavily drinking. While I don't blame him, I cannot excuse it either. The only reason I haven't reported this to someone is because I don't want my little brother taken away from me. My mother was a strong woman, I can be stronger. This is for her.

When I graduate, I'm taking my brother with me. Only one more month, and I'm out of here. I'll report him then, once I have custody of my brother.

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