My secret lives

Chapter 2

"I'm so sorry dear, but you're stepfather John Williams isn't here anymore. He got into a car crash and sadly didn't make it, I'm sorry for your loss" he tells me, in such a gentle voice like as if he would talk any louder, I would break like glass.

Oh

I stay quiet and just look at the floor.

The man stays quiet for a few moments, letting me process what he just told me.

"W-will I be going to an orphanage?" I ask him still looking at the floor.

I was wrong, there's a bloody knife under the sofa.

"Well we don't know yet honey, we will be going to the police station where we will seek for any living relatives that would be able to take you in. So you can pack your stuff, I can help you if you want and then we'll be going" he informs me.

I nod my head, "I'll go pack on my own" I say softly before rushing out of the room, still limping.

It hurts too much to even try to walk normally.

As fast as I can, I make my way to my room.

I grab the small beaten up backpack that I have before throwing all my stuff inside at a quick pace.

That police officer can't go around the house more than he has done already.

Behind my mattress is my stack of joints, just to relieve some stress and pain.

There my phone, gun and credit card,... lay too.

I grab everything and shove them inside the small bag too before turning around quickly, biting my lip in pain when a painful wave goes through my ribs.

I see my mother once more, like always.

I slowly walk closer and kneel down next to her, "I'm sorry" I apologize to her before turning back around and leaving.

I don't know why I felt the need to apologize to her, it just felt like the right thing to do.

I make my way quickly back upstairs away from the smell of the rotting corpse.

I close the door when suddenly the officer walks out of the living room, to the hallway.

I pretend like I had just walked down the stairs and make my way over to him.

"Are you okay, you're limping" he states looking at me worriedly.

"Yes, I just fell down the stairs a few days ago" is all I say to his observation.

My ankle is broken, that's the reality.

John broke my ankle because I went out last night, that's why I got my beating in the first place.

I went on a mission for the mafia- my mafia.

The mafia I took over from him when he died.

He nods his head a little skeptically, "is that why you stayed home today instead of going to school?" He asks.

I nod my head.

"We should get going" he smiles gently at me.

Again I just nod my head before we head out of the house.

The police officer opens the back of the police car door for me before I enter and sit down.

I hug my backpack close to me as I put my seatbelt on and the officer goes to sit in the front.

I flinch slightly when I hear the car starts before it drives away.

Suddenly I see other police cars come to the house before going inside.

No

I turn around quickly.

"It's okay, they are just looking around for a while, I'll have to ask you some questions later at the station too okay" the officer says calmly.

My leg starts bouncing nervously.

They can't find out about the abuse.

It's one of the rules.

I look outside the whole ride, not feeling comfortable being here.

If John was alive he would've killed me when he saw me doing this.

The speed of the car makes my back press up against the seat. I do everything I can not to scream out in pain from this.

I want to take another painkiller but I know that those make me sleepy and I can't afford it to not look out for danger.

Especially now that I'm a mafia boss.

There are enemies lurking in every corner.

After around 15 minutes, we arrive at the police station.

I slowly get out of the car just like the officer who then leads me to the station.

We walk inside and I'm told to go sit in the waiting room.

I do as the officer says and sit down while tugging my back pack close to me.

Even though since last year I got the resources to escape my stepfather and mother...I didn't leave.

I knew that if I would leave, my mother would face everything that I've- well I had been dealing with for years now.

I didn't want to do that to her even though I knew she didn't love me, a small piece of me did love her.

My mom died about two months ago and John got custody of me.

He locked me in the basement with my mom for over a month. Just giving me some bread sometimes and a bucket of water, beatings were daily of course.

I don't really know why I didn't kill John or ran away. Well that's not entirely true, I did try to run away. Like a lot of times. But John always found me.
Or I couldn't last living on the street and than I had to go back.

I'm scared of John.

I've always been and always will be scared of him even if he's dead.

It has just been drilled into me, being afraid of him. It has been drilled into me to listen to his rules without a small doubt, as if my body controls itself and I don't have a choice but to follow it.

The longest I was away from John was for about a month. I found him and he took me in for a while until he died. John found me when I was in school and took me back with him.

I didn't leave again because I knew the consequences. I knew that if I left again, John would hurt my mom or people I loved would die.

People around me always die.

People I care about always die.

I see the police officer walk back to me with a concerned look on his face.

Fuck he knows.