The Mafia Heirs

On the cold December chill of yesterday, I watched my older Brother, Antonio, kill a man in the middle of the afternoon, blood leaking off his neck from my favorite blade. All six inches of swiss steel, swept across the large man's throat, before Antonio wiped it off with the plastic glove covering his bulky hand. 

The man, whom I recalled from last year's Christmas party as Fat Bernie, stared into the murky clouds, his eyes closing. He made uneasy noises, as though gasping for air, his hands limp on the floor on either side. He was a large man, taking up the width of the alley where he laid. Antonio, slim and sharp in his navy blue suit,crouched next to Bernie, turning his steel blue eyes towards the dying man. Without flinching, my brother aimed the dagger at the center of Bernie's chest, stabbing twice, before pulling out. 

"I'll miss ya, Fat Bernie," he whispered. "Forgive me."

White specs of snow fell atop his raven hair, swept over his head, gathering around him. He would appear angelic, if it wasn't for the knife in his hand, and the corpse beside him. He stood, carefully removing the glove, and throwing it in the dust bin, the blood still dripping off the plastic. When he turned to face me for the first time since the kill, his eyes turned warm, his lips forming a smile. 

I simply stared at him, unable to move, or to speak. All I could do was look at my brother, and wonder if it was really him that I was seeing. My black sneakers suddenly felt heavy. So heavy, that I wasn't sure if I could take another step forward or backward. My hands were cold inside the pockets of my white coat, the fur laced hood placed over my head. The ends of my pitch black hair waved over my shoulder, as the velocity of the wind increased. Antonio took long steps towards me, his fingers pinching my chin, his eyes twinkling as they always did when he looked at me. 

I flinched from his touch, my stomach feeling uneasy, as I looked at the ground. A scorching heat spread across my chest, as my fingers inside my pocket, began to twitch. My eyes were stinging something awful, as I felt hot tears envelop under my lids. 

"Aw, Genie," said Antonio, resting his palm on my cheek. "No tears, little sis."

shoving my hand out of my pocket, I slapped his palm off my face, not wanting him to touch me. I took a step back, my heart racing, as tears continued to spill from my eyes. I hated him then. I hated him with every throbbing pulse inside me. 

"Hey, come on jerk face! We gotta go!" 

Savion, my second older brother, a year younger than Antonio, was impatient since his birth. So when he blew a piercing whistle from his mouth, I turned, wanting to get the hell away from Antonio, before I did something I would regret. 

When I reached the car across the street from the alley, I slammed the door shut before Antonio could get inside. He continued to smile, his crooked bottom teeth displayed for me to see through the tinted window. Opening the door, he slipped into the seat beside me. I sat at the far end, leaning my head against the window, as Savion drove past Roberta's. 

"I'm so mad at you right now," I said. "I'm so mad. I really hate you,Antonio. You know that? How could you do that? You knew that was my favorite blade. Marco gave me that on my eleventh birthday. I didn't use it even once, and here you have the damn nerve to sneak into my room and steal it! Now what good is it? You already did what you had to do with it! God, I really hate you. I really do. I'd never steal your knife, and you know it. How could you?"