Monopoly with the Mafia

Chapter One

Chapter One

Three times the shrill bell rings, running through my ears as I continue to tick and cross at exams. My door opens, creaking as it goes and the endless scuffle of shoes traipse through, making their way to desks I didn't assign. Chatter fills my ears and I catch snippets of conversations I didn't want to hear. Letting them attempt at the starter as the break time buzz evaporates.

Pushing my chair back, I stand as I take the register, scoping out my students. Eyes eager to break off into little groups or light the gas taps for fun.

"Miss?" A young boy by the name of Ethan raises his arm and his too-small jumper rides up his wrists. He doesn't wait for me to reply. "Do you have a brother?"

I roll my eyes at his attempt at diversion. "No, let me teach."

"Did your parents not want anymore, or did they have problems?" One of his friends calls out.

"I don't see how the periodic table relates to this," I raise my voice as everyone else joins in. "Can anybody tell me the three areas of the table, please."

Nobody listens and I slump down on my desk, working more on exams my a-level students took. Not one of them failing.

Over the course of the hour, a select amount of pupils get their work done. I award them house points for doing what they're supposed to be doing. Leaving the ones who don't want to try be, giving them the choice to pick up sheets and ask if they wanted. All around, I'm pleased as they exit for fourth period.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare at level height to the schoolboy in front of me. His blue eyes earnest and looking at the door, desperate to get out there. I chew my cheek as he works up an excuse, working harder than he does in the books. My walls covered in students work, I read as I wait.

"I left it at my sister's house," he tells me, slinging his bag on his shoulder and then off again. "I don't know when I'm next going there."

"What's her name?" I ask, trying to catch him out in a lie, four times in one term.

"What?" His eyes widen, he catches on and reads a name off of the whiteboard. "Megan Louise."

Sighing, I watch him as he waves his friends away, giving in too his detention; but I think, how many lunchtimes is he really going to have. Only a couple hundred before he leaves and forgets all about the ever-changing group.

"Go on," I open the door and step aside for him. "Get some food."

He rushes out before I change my mind, leaving from the narrow school halls and onto the heaving field.

Climbing into my car, I wait patiently for my passenger and I peak into the mirror, watching myself. My ears holding a total of ten piercings, hoops strung through my firsts. Curly, brown hair usually tumbling down to my shoulder but tied in a ponytail. A light orange eyeshadow smeared across my eyelids, complementing my golden ebony skin colour, just the way I wanted it too. Glasses strung across my face, ready for driving.

The door gets yanked open and my friend slams herself onto the seat. "Admiring yourself again, Aylee."

Jumping out of my skin, I slam back into my seat, feeling blood rush to my cheeks. She laughs heartily and pulls her seatbelt over her tank top as the rain patters down on my bonnet. I roll my eyes.

"How was your day?" I ask, pretending to be interested in whatever comes out of her mouth, something about the year eight girls football. "I don't understand why people do exercise."

I turn onto her road as she launches into a full-detailed conversation about a movie she'd seen that weekend, I pull over and listen intently. "Wait, don't tell me how it ends, I'll watch it this weekend."

After ten minutes, she jumps out the car and skips up her brightly lit driveway amongst the black night with her long, blonde ponytail swinging behind her.

The drive home stretches out ahead as the night sky fills with stars and the traffic sets me back, piling up all the way to the seventh street. My mind wanders to all the things that don't matter, and all the things that do. The way the river runs along the road and travels into a dirt path.

Dropping my keys on the dining table, I spin around, prancing through back to the kitchen, tapping on all of the pots and pans as I go. Heavy footsteps thud through the house, the door flings open like a police raid. My roommate, Colson, stands in just his pyjama shorts with a ruler in his hands. His hair, bright orange, somehow has toast crumbs matted in it.

"One! Two! Three!" Screaming, he dances around the room, his socks sliding along the floor. Gasping for air, we collapse against the sideboard. "How was Darwin?"

"Good," I tell him, trying to think of something to say. "She saw Rules of Resurrection in the cinema yesterday."

Groaning, he replies, "she said he wanted to see that tomorrow with me, fuck, she's going to talk the whole way through it."

Slipping out of my pajamas, I listen out to the news as I pick my outfit, swaying as my clock announces tea. My hair flowing down my shoulders, not having to tie it up makes me want to scream with joy, but health and safety comes first. Quickly, my ear catches something important, under the title BREAKING NEWS. Turning it up and taking a seat. Colson walks in and we listen together.

"Head of the Franchi family and Mafia Boss Leonardo Franchi steps down from his position. Hanging the place to his eldest son, Lucio Franchi."

"Why is that breaking news?" I ask, laughing lightly. " The mafia hasn't been big or bad for years, not in our lifetime, anyway."

"Yeah, they have." Colson pulls out his phone, reading off the titles of horrific articles. Speculating the things they've done. "But we don't have to worry, we're ordinary people and they don't usually involve themselves with ordinary people."

He holds up a picture of what this man looks like, the new Mafia Boss, the man you shouldn't cross. Some may say that the most notable thing about him is the long silvery scar running from his ear to his eye and again from his eyebrow to his head, like a piece of his head has been cut like a cake and then replaced; but I'd say his eyes, brown like mine but with no shades, no specs of gold or little lines that people like to lose themselves in. Pure brown, so dark, I could say black.

"Good," I manage to say after a moment of staring. "He looks terrifying."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey! If you like it so far then go ahead and vote for it because it makes my heart happy.

TheGirlWhoWrites