Mind Over Matter

Frankie //5

For the rest of the day I ignored Frankie and blocked out the world. My life had been turned upside down and I was confused, upset, angry and although I was not alone, I was lonely; I felt isolated.

''You just don't get it Sofia'' Frankie continued his obnoxious rant about my father ''He's a bad person'' I glared at him, and he instantly knew my response before I even opened my mouth.

''He's a murderer for Christ's sake! Killing people, ruining people's lives, that is his job Sofia'' he grabbed my shoulders and began shaking me ''Don't you get it?!''

Yes, I ''got it'', I understood completely. But I didn't want to believe it, my father is my world; why would  want to believe horrible things about him. I didn't even know this guy, he could of been the one lying to me.

''Sofia, listen to me'' Frankie, still holding my shoulders, continued down his list of reasons to hate my father.

''He lied to you.''

That one got me. He had lied to me, the man I admired, the man I trusted. He'd looked me in the eyes and lied to me, blatantly. Quickly I pushed Frankie away from me and began sobbing.

''You don't even know him'' I exclaimed, the tears streaming down my face ''And how dare you say he is a bad man?! So are you, I hope you both rot in hell!''

In a moment of rage, my hand met Frankie's face and an wave of pain shot down my arm. Although it may of been a girlish hit, his voice stopped mid-sentence and his mouth turned into a gawp.

''Shit'' I shouted shaking my hand, waiting for the pain to stop.

''Ow'' Frankie, with his hand on his now red cheek, said very bluntly ''That hurt.''

''Good.'' With my sleeve I wiped my eyes and composed myself into a ladylike manner.

''You're right'' I turned to face him ''I don't know your father, after all, I am just the extortion guy'' Frankie laughed, which both irritated and angered me.

''Oh wow the extortion guy'' Struggling to hold back my sarcasm, I mocked him ''That is SO very impressive.''

''Meh, It's okay'' he smiled, I don't think he quite grasped the concept of sarcasm. I raised my eyebrows at him. He stood up, with his hands in his pockets, and walked over to a book shelf. A carmine covered, large, novel looking book was Frankie's pick of the day. He walked back over to the couch and sat down, perching the book on my knee.

''I wasn't always the extortion guy'' he said, checking his nails in a very feminine fashion ''I really like surrealism and art noveau, I wanted to be an artist'' Frankie smiled, the same way my grandfather did when he reminisced about times in Italy, which he referred too as ''The Old Country''.

It was the first time I'd seen a different more humble, kind and honest Frankie; rather then his usual ''Extortion Tough Guy'' persona.

Turning the carmine cover, I was taken too a different world in pictures. The book featured little writing and was mainly pictures and photographs of different art pieces. Frankie, with much enthusiasm, talked me through each artist and the meaning behind their work. I'd always taken art for granted, seeing it as something boring and so ordinary; of course the only art ''pieces'' I'd ever seen were the five-million dollar paintings my mother had bought. But these were different, they were creative and portrayed emotions in ways I'd never seen before.

''My dad made me do this'' Frankie began telling me ''I wanted to go to art school, but my father, is the under boss. So last year, I ended up working for the Capo; it's like a ritual in my family.''

''I used to be like you Sofia'' he continued ''It was also referred to as business until I turned 18. Then my father trained me, and now I don't mind it.''

''You don't mind being a murderer?'' I questioned

''I'm not a murderer, I'm the extortion guy. Guns, deaths..not my thing, I couldn't hurt a fly'' he said it as though it was no big deal.

''You have a gun right now'' I pointed to Frankie's inside pocket, which was now exposing some sort of pistol. Frankie removed it from his jacket and waved it around as though it was a toy.

''Oh this, it's nothing, I only use it when I have too'' He smirked ''So don't go trying to leave okay? I'm not a big fan of death and I'm a big fan of you.''

Frankie winked at me and I smiled awkwardly. Oh no, please don't say he has Stockholm Syndrome.

The awkwardness and silence lingered for a while before we both stood up.

''It's getting late, we should go back to your room'' Frankie smiled, I smiled back and we continued awkwardly smiling for at least another 5 minutes, before I walked past Frankie and back up too my prison cell.

I walked in the room and slumped on the bed, burying myself back into the pillow mountain, as I closed my eyes I was rudely interrupted by a loud, Italian conversation. Shortly after in walked Frankie and one of the other people keeping me here. Turning over I glared at both of them before Frankie closed the door, and the other rude guy left.

I'd had an idea, I wanted to tell Frankie, but I didn't know him well enough. During that night, Frankie left and he locked the door, but last night he didn't and he never locks the windows. What if I just walked out? I could go to a local village and get help, no one is ever outside at 2am, I'm sure they wouldn't notice?

Sofia, what are you doing, this isn't a movie you can't just escape. You're a 17 year old girl from New York, not the next James Bond. Brain shut up and let me sleep.

Burying myself deeper in the pillow mountain and the sea of satin sheets, I slowly felt my eyelids getting heavier and everything got quieter and suddenly I was in dreamworld.

I woke up in a sweat, the room was dark and eerily empty. Turning over to check if Frankie was there, I stretched my arms. He wasn't, the chaise lounge he once had lounged on, was now empty. I felt a warm excited glow inside me, I could escape and go home and go back to normal. The butterflies bean swirling around in my stomach.

Jumping out of bed, I put on a pair of slip on shoes, not the most practical, but they looked best. Taking a few deep breaths, I walked towards the door.

Placing my hand on the handle, I took a breath and pushed down, it opened. I contained my inner butterflies and slowly opened it, checking too make sure no one was outside. It was eerily quiet and desolate.

Cautiously I took a step outside and began walking down the corridor, constantly checking behind me. Taking deep breaths I approached the top of some stairs, when my worst nightmare happened. Footsteps, behind me, getting louder, closer and even more intimidating.

Covering my mouth with my hand, I began to lose control of my breath. Tears starting falling down my cheeks and I couldn't contain myself. I turned around, and started walking quietly back to the room, holding breath so I wouldn't make a sound. Staying close to the wall, hiding in the shadows hoping I wouldn't be seen. Checking behind me, I turned around and my face slammed into a hard, black figure.

This was it, I was going to die.