ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ, ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴠᴀᴄᴀɴᴛ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴇ
***
As the night falls into the early hours of the next morning, Alessia Gotti can only think of one thing. Vengeance. The group are forced to split up and go on the r...
I decided that I was going to kill El Alma del Diablo the minute I said goodnight to the others, resting my head on the pillow, the room cascading into darkness. And-and it wasn't just for Lex. I'd thought about it, and it wasn't. It was for Maria's parents. It was for every single person that the man had killed. My father wasn't much better, but even he had a limit. This fucker had killed kids. Ripped families apart, just cause he could. And I don't know what the hell that note meant, but as I silently slipped into the night, that was quickly becoming day, I'd figured I'd go ask him myself. But I never did get to ask him.
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The journey back to San Francisco was a quiet one. It was rather comforting to be honest. There were a few holiday makers, and business type people, but apart from that, I had the back to myself, in the quiet, the hum drum of the motor keeping me company. My hands held my penknife, carefully scoring it into a bullet within the grasp of my hand. Maybe I was taking this all a little too far, but he took it too far the moment he got out of his ugly ass car that night, and let his associate kill Lex. Did he think that he was going to get away with it, cause we were kids? Or was it because he thought he was better than everyone else. El Alma del Diablo got away with too much, because people feared him. I was scared of him too, but fear was a good thing, if you knew how to use it to your advantage. I held the copper bullet up to the light, as his name etched upon the metal shone back. I never used it, but it was the thought that count.
~
It was a warm night, as the sky sparkled with stars, similar to white paint splattered upon a deep blue canvas. I watched, as people went about their lives unaware of the darkness that lurked in the background. The underworld. The air on China Town however was suffocating, the hands of death wrapping around my neck and squeezing. Everything was heightened. The bright neon lights of the restaurants, to the roar of the cars passing. The people were going at twice the speed I was used to, pushing past me on their merry way. I slipped down the almost pitch black alleyway that absorbed me and my black clothes. I wore a tartan skirt, with my bullet belt wrapped around tightly, a large over sized hoodie on top, pulled over my head. My feet led me on, knowing the way to the back entrance of the school off by heart. My fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the gate pushing it silently, opening the latch. I stood in the middle of the garden, coated in night, feeling a tug at my chest. My ear drums could almost pick up the many conversations I'd had within these walls. Smoke rising from the tombstones. High pitched laughter. The weight of me sitting on the marbled seat.
