Running For My Life, With The Mobsters Son.(reuploaded)

Running Back To The Mobsters Son

Running Back To The Mobsters Son.

(Reuploaded)

Jaydens Pov-

    Toby was scratching to come out of the bathroom, but I didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. Let alone play with him. My Father tried telling me it might be a better idea if I got rid of Toby, because of the whole house arrest thing, so of course I plan to keep him forever. I feel bad though, not spending time with him. He’s just the closest thing I have to… I took a deep breath to keep myself from breaking down again. My eyes still ached from last night. I don’t think I could handle another night like that. I still hurt.

    Being without her, it’s like a never dulling pain. Who ever said “it will get better”, never felt this kind of pain. Every time I breathed, I could feel where my own Father punched a hole in my heart and never once thought twice. I wished there was something I could do, and I would even if it meant my life. My Dad knew that, and it explained the 24-7 body guards.

    You would like to think that he got those body guards to keep an eye on me for my own protection. On the outside, maybe that’s what it seems like- but I knew better. My father got those body guards to protect himself. I can’t even go down stairs for a snack without one of them fallowing me. They wont even talk to me, yes I tried sparking a conversation with them. Being under house arrest is boring, you’d find yourself talking to the walls if you were alone.

    I’m glad they don’t talk though, to anyone not just me. They hear me cry in the middle of the night. They hear me yell out her names when I wake up from nightmares. Those would be some awkward conversations, and I hate the forced ones. I wish I had the opportunity to just not talk. Just sit here, and be apart of the furniture. Better yet…

    Be Dead.

    I remember my sisters words though- “suicide isn’t the answer, Jayden. No matter how much you miss her, she wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” What she was saying was true… Felicia wouldn’t want me to kill myself, but I wasn’t in the mood to converse with my sister happily.

    “And you would know this how?” I snapped, I was curled up in a ball. Wrapped in the blankets on my bed for days. I don’t blame Monica for coming in and sitting on the edge of my bed to talk. We never used to strangers… But she was letting the sun in through the curtains. She thought it was a good idea to get light in. If I was in the joking mood I would have covered my eyes claiming it burned, but I wasn’t in any mood lately. Especially not happy.

    She was gone.

    Someone I promised to protect was gone. Ripped away from me when I finally confessed my feelings for her. I hardly seemed fair. I got a glimpse of happiness. Being far away from my Father, having him out of my life, having her all to myself.

    I was finally happy.

    I should have known from the beginning I would never been happy. Never be happy with her. Should have figured the more unhappy I was the less urge my Father would have felt to find me.

    Ironic isn’t it?

    What keeps me up at night, besides the painfully obvious is what would posses her to open the door. All of this could have been prevented if she didn’t open the door. Or if my father wasn’t a murderer.If he was just an average Joe. With two kids… if everything was normal I could still have her.

    That was the thought that made everything else go down kill, I curled into an even tighter ball and cried.

    I never thought I could feel so empty and alone. But here I am, biting my forearm to keep from crying out in pain.