The mafia's bride (On Hold)

Chapter six: Enter Jonah, the mysterious cutie?

Ok, something's definitely wrong with me today. Not only did I sleep like a baby last night but there aren't any side pains driving me crazy first thing in the morning. It's hard to believe but for the first time since we moved here, I feel at peace. The universe is turning around my crooked future. So....it's only right that I repay it back right?

Getting dressed and pulling back my wild hair into a ponytail, the sweet smell of pancakes illuminates my nostrils. Sure it's odd considering that mom and dad said they're going into work early today but I know my dad's cooking all too well. It took years before my mind adjusted to the stream that always seems to burn my eyes to no end.

"Good morning, sweetie," dad greets me when I drop my bag near the couch and take a seat at the island. Taking up the counter space is a straight line of food just waiting to be eaten. Drooling, I pick up a plate from the highest shelf in the kitchen and fill my plate right up. Dad's cooking has approved since we moved and it's so delicious. "Did mom leave already for work?" I ask him in between mouth fills of food. He flashes me a lazy grin and nods. "She needed to prepare for a TC meeting this afternoon so she went in a little earlier than usual."

"Hmm and I'm guessing you're staying home today?" He grins but shakes his head. "No sweetie as much as I would love to drive you to school......I'm going into the office an hour late." I arch a brow at my dad but quickly blow it off when the newswoman reports yet another crime scene. This time, it was more recent and the victim's a guy. Though the theory is still the same. Gang activity, yet he had been shot in the head multiple times. Not to mention the murderer cornered the poor guy in an alley way. No way out just a bricked wall that puts distance from the other side. "Not again...." Dad sighs as he washes away the uneaten food in the sink and places them carefully in the dish washer.

"Pryor you be carefully walking to the bus stop, honey. It may be sunny now but I heard the rain's supposed to swing by when you get home." I slowly nod my head, disappointed about my dream free day. Still at least some good will come of it. I'll get to see both Lila and Miranda.....except of course I have to get past Star and the queen of all bitches, Jeanna. Ugh, now I'm starting to wish today was dad's day off. Shrugging the rugged feeling to the side, my stomach is know the size of the globe. Food served by my father did not go unfinished and personally it helps to work my mind loose from distractions plaguing me. Tugging the book bag onto my shoulder, I give my dad a quick kiss on the forehead before descending to the front door, house keys dangling from my hands. 

 Walking to the bus stop isn't easy for me especially with the thick mist covering up my tracks from behind. I feel like one of those victims in my horror shows. Cool yet dangerous at the same time. There is not a single teenage walking on the other side of the street and no blooming cars trailing down the road in front of me. No sunlight to brighten my way--ah if only Rudolph were here. His glowing red nose could glide my sleigh through the heavy fog. Giving me hope that a rapist or kidnappers wasn't living on the same street corner as my family. There is so much only one can hope for in a person. Sometimes you get your wish--and sometimes you just--don't. Simply as that.  

 Keeping at a steady pace, I cling to the heart shaped necklace that my dead grandmother on my dad's side gave to me for my 9th birthday and pray to god that choosing to go to school today was a huge mistake. Well not yet at least. Thinking back to the news this morning, my body suddenly shudders with cold shivers running along my back. The victim was a man who was only in his mid 20s when he was murdered. A new recruited gang member around these parts apparently starts at 16, probably even younger or so I've heard from the daily news. To think that someone would just up and kill an innocent bystander without a motivate is a sign of cowardice to me. And how disgusting can that newswoman be. Going into detail about the bloody holes in his head and how doctors are trying desperately to remove them before the funeral can be held for him.