The Girl From the Gang

So Here's My Story, Or So You Think...

Any comments help. I am always looking to improve my writing. Let me know what you think and it will be greatly appreciated :)

I never asked for any of this. I never asked to be born into one of the most ruthless gangs in New York city. This is my story. You've probably never heard of me. That's because, according to the government, I don't exist. Only some people know who I am, and you are about to become one of them. So take a breath and fasten your seat belt, because its about to become a very bumpy ride.

Before we start, I should probably give a few basics. Most people who hear my story won't know a thing about the Italian Mafia. In the Italian Mafia, there is one leader in charge of a "Family". He calls the shots, and what he says goes. If you object, you take an unplanned swim in the Hudson. With cement bricks on your feet. The hierarchy descends from there. The bottom is the associates. That's what I am. We respond to the soldiers, those who are men and of full Italian descent. If I were a different gender, that's what I would be. But I'm not, so I get sent to do the jobs the soldiers don't want to do. Mostly I rob places or do reconnaissance for them. I'm known as the shadow. No one ever sees me coming. I would like to keep it that way. If I don't, let's just say that this story wouldn't continue any further.

On the outside, my family was just like any other family. But on the inside, we hid terrible secrets from society. I should probably start with the people who started it all, my parents. My father, Marco, was a terrible man. He immigrated from Italy in the 80's, and joined the gang soon after. He was full Italian, so he was quickly made a soldier. It was in being a soldier he met my mother. My mom was a crack dealer for him and his fellow gang members. By day, she was a waitress. At night, she would hang out around the casinos and sell her products. She came from Italy when she was a little girl. I think her family had it hard making a new life in America, I guess that might be why she turned out the way she did. They fell in love and got married on a whim in Las Vegas to my father in a drunken stupor. I was born nine months later. As I grew older, I noticed my dad coming home with blood caked on his fingers. I never really thought anything of it until I heard my mother screaming at him about it. As a kid, it scared me to hear my parents fighting. I grew immune to it as the years went on, and after a while I accepted it as normal for a family to do that. Soon after the fighting started, my father came home less and less. He would be gone for weeks at a time, only coming home for a day or so before leaving again. I was left without a father figure for most of my formative years. Once, I asked him where he went when he disappeared. He said "None of your business". I didn't ask again. His word was law. One day, my father came home later than usual. I was nine. I was watching TV when two men, whom I didn't know. I didn't say anything to them, though I wish I did. I was more scared than I had ever been in my entire life. I sat there in silence, hoping that everything would turn out okay. It didn't. Soon after the men went into my parent's bedroom, I heard screams from his bedroom. The men dragged him out and into the living room for me to stare at in horror. It is something that will haunt me for the rest of my life, the image of my dead father burned into my brain to be kept there forever.

"Let this be a lesson to you, girl, to never cross the mafia." I saw that they had shot my dad in the head. Turns out, my dad had betrayed the mafia he was apart of. I learned pretty quick that I was stuck in the mafia for good. They came and monitored me in my training. I was forced into this business, to pay for my father's sins against the mafia. If it wasn't for my father and the gang I wouldn't be getting into so many things other sixteen year olds shouldn't have to go through. I have no choice though. They will kill me if I resist. Just like they do to everyone else. I am no exception.

My mom is in and out of reality every day. She experiments with the drugs she deals. After dad died she started selling more drugs, trying to make enough money to support me and her hard drug addiction. Slowly, I've become the adult in the house. Because of that, my grades suffer in school. I hardly ever show up, because I know I have to go on missions at night and I would rather not go and face everyone at the school. My social life is non-existent, and college and a high school diploma is off the table. On top of everything else in my life, I'm in a gang. They send me on missions to prove myself. So far it seems like I'm not ever going to be good enough. I won't ever be, and there is nothing I can do to change that.