𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | 𝐃𝐂 𝐈𝐈

The Gotti household

"𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧"

~

MIXTAPE 003

*Never Going Back Again-Fleetwood Mac

*By the Sea-Bobby Darin

*Rhymin & Stealin- Beastie Boys

~

We took the subway several times and a bus the next morning to get to Howard Beach, Queens. My home. I was paranoid the entire journey, but it beat sitting in an expensive black car that smelled sickeningly with leather trying to make small talk with a mob member. Why the fuck do they need to know how school was? Hello? Murder school and all that? It was going swimmingly. But how's you? Shoot anybody recently?  How's the wife and kids? I'd take sticky seats and creepy dudes on the subway any day.

I hadn't been here in a year give or take, and when we walked past the wood paneled houses by the water on stilts, a man untying his boat by the jetty, everything slowing down in juxtaposition with the bustle of Manhattan, I realised I'd missed this.

"When you said you lived in Queens, this isn't what I'd exactly had in mind" Petra muttered, as the three of us stood outside a white wood mixed with red brick medium sized house with a large built in garage.

"What? You expecting a mansion or something? Please, that's just begging for a pig raid" I let out a chuckle, staring back at the house with a sigh, before forcing myself up the path. However, I hadn't even gotten to the porch, when the door swung open, and there stood my father in all his un-holy glory. Jesus, why wasn't I surprised he'd seen us coming. All he did was look out the windows, not cause he thought the FBI were watching him, no, he was just fucking nosy. John Gotti, the infamous people-watcher.

"Dad" I mumbled clearing my throat, shifting my weight from one foot to another.

"Alessia" He heaved out a sigh taking one look at the three exhausted teenagers, before making his way down the stairs, engulfing me in a hug, kissing the top of my head. I wanted to cry, let it all out. Everything. But maybe I was still in shock. I was on the top of a diving board, and no matter how hard I pushed myself forward, I couldn't dive into the dark mass of water below. It was agony.

~

"I told him where he could shove his credentials. Can you imagine, I cannot even buy fucking milk from the store without someone asking me if I had anything to do with Paul's death" Mr Gotti shook his head, before taking a large bite out of an iced bun simultaneously stirring four cups of coffee, one after the other, before haphazardly setting them down on the table.

My father had a lot to do with the guys death. But that was besides the point.

"This place. It's god damn killing me" He plopped the last piece of bun in his mouth, wiping the crumbs off his hands, then almost instantly taking out a pack of cigarettes.

"I think this place is real nice, Mr Gotti" Billy piped up making the man look up at him, furrowing his dark brows. A lump formed in the boys throat as he sat back in the kitchen chair. My father liked the kids, but that didn't mean he didn't scare the shit out of them.

"Yeah, well son, you ain't got to be here. That fucking woman next door, what's her name. Alessia, whats that fucking woman's name next door?" He clicked his ringed fingers at me, lighting his cigarette, with a lighter he'd pulled from his suit jacket pocket.