It was all passing in a blur. Everything over the last month was whizzing by leaving me feeling lost and confused. I found myself wandering onto my father’s private jet trying to figure out how my life had become completely ruined in 30 days. How in that short amount of time my family was ripped apart and I was being sent away in disgrace. I chose a window seat in the corner and cast my eyes out the window, taking in the private hanger of the Sydney airport. I tried to feel sad about leaving behind this familiar landscape indefinitely as the Tasman Sea glittered in the morning light. I tried to feel peaceful taking in the view. I tried to feel hurt that my brother and father hadn’t come to see me off. I tried to feel angry for everything getting so screwed up. I tried to feel anything…something. But I had become too removed from reality, like I was watching someone else’s life and not my own.
I quietly observed the four guards sent to escort me, spread throughout the cabin and settle in for the 14 or so hour flight. My eyes returned to the window wanting to ignore the six flight attendants flitting about to get the guards everything they would possibly need for a comfortable ride. It didn’t take long for my mind to circle around to the memories that had been dogging my thoughts for the past few weeks. Fleeting images of twisted metal, a church filled with mourners and endless days left alone in my room to be tormented by my grief and guilt. I squeezed my eyes shut in a hasty attempt to regain my numb state. It didn’t take long for my exhausted body to escape into sleep.
My brother’s long, lean frame sprawled lazily across the couch, eyes glued to the Flat screen dominating the opposite wall. “You going driving?” He asked as I walked past
“Yeah” I sigh taking a seat. “Mum wants me to get my hours up” I sulk playing with the keys nervously. “Thankfully it’s only down to the store and back” I sigh in relief
“Well good luck, don’t crash” he replies with a taunting smirk. I’m a nervous mess all over again
“Don’t tease your sister” My mum chastises gently walking in with her wallet and phone, sending me an encouraging smile.
“Mum can you grab me some food while you’re there?” He begged childishly
“Sure thing baby” Mum gave in easily running her hand through his blonde hair that was an exact replica of her own. “Can you clean the kitchen before we get back?” She asked sweetly. My lazy brother groaned in reply
“Fine” He grumbled getting up.
“Thank you” Mum said with amusement. “Oh and don’t tell your dad that Siren is driving. The man takes overprotective to a whole new level.” She called out seriously before turning to me with a bright smile. I felt woozy and was seriously looked for any excuse to get out of this.
“I’ll tell dad” I threatened following her out to our four-wheeler.
“Shush! You’re not getting out of this, you need your license and I’m not going to let your dad stop that. Do you really wanna spend the rest of your life using a driver that your dad hires?” She asked trying to get me excited about my ‘independence’.
“I feel sick” I mumble climbing unsteadily into the driver’s seat. She looks at me critically, her blue eyes a mirror of my own, before shaking her head.
“It’s all in your head hun. Once we get driving and you see how easy it is you’ll be fine.” Reluctantly, I start the car and pull out of the driveway. She was right, we drove through a few streets of Point Piper and with each minute my hands became looser and looser on the wheel and I sunk back into the seat, feeling completely relaxed. Mum started chatting away and giving instructions every now and again. My breathing got slower and I was beginning to fight off drowsiness. We reached the main roads and I drove through the intersection, trying to focus on what mum was saying.
YOU ARE READING
The Mafia's Princess
Adventure***EDITING*** How can everything be so utterly and irreplacebly destroyed in a single moment? How in a month, is everything gone and I'm in another country trying to pull my life back together? How can I possibly pick up the pieces if there are no p...