Crossing the gangster

chapter 25

Hit

The pain coursing in me was still fresh, a ripped wound that hasn't healed despite the time I had given. Everything that I saw pierced it like a knife, only making it worse, unbearable.

The flashbacks hit me like a wave now, a wave that I was helpless against and could only watch silently as it drowned me.

Hit

Staring outside the window, my lips pressed into a firm line as the autumn leaves fell, their colours only adding beauty to the scenery. Beautiful, a word that can't describe my life anymore, especially after my father's drinking had increased.

He no longer went to work and instead stayed home every day, a green familiar bottle forever clutched in his hand like a prized trophy.

Hit Hit
Why was it that everyone was going on with their lives, people walking their dogs or gripping their briefcases as they rushed to places?

Why was it that everyone's lives seemed normal when mine was on the verge of crashing?

Little did I know that that very day was going to be the worst of them all, the matchstick to the floor of oil just calling to be burned.

Hit

With a deep sigh, I strayed my gaze from the breath-taking trees to my driveway, hearing a puzzling rumble of an engine.

It was then I heard a laugh so painstakingly familiar that I had to do a slight double take to make sure I was seeing it right.

Hit

It was coming from my mother, a person who moped around the house after her husband's

depression struck full force and who, just like me, remained a shell of her former self.

Or so I thought, as I watched the scene with my › breath held silently as if a single intake of air would cause the duo to look up and spot my unwanted eyes.

Hit Hit

In my mother's hands were two suitcases, her brunette hair flowing and clothes immaculate, two things that I thought had disappeared when she went into her state of silent moping.

But no, she was running into another man's arms, someone I had never seen before.

And that smile on her face, a smile I had thought was only reserved for us, matched the smirk on his perfectly like they were destined for each other. Who was he?

Hit

No matter how much I wanted to deny it, they were a perfectly stunning pair- their heights matching and beauty complementing one another.

They looked like they were meant to be instead of the mismatched marriage she was trapped in now, where my father reigned over the house and my mother was a silent damsel in distress.

Hit

But she had found her prince now, this unknown stranger liting her with joy. But did it have to be at the expense of us? I may have always been considered naive and innocent but I wasn't ignorant to the reality that slapped my face.

She was leaving us with him, leaving us to suffer in our misery while she embarked on her new life, one not tainted by the hands of two children and a drunken husband.

Hit hit

And with that, I snapped out of my flashback as the punching bag flew back towards me with propelling momentum.

Tensing my body slightly, I let it knock me to the floor, my energy draining faster than ever before as I laid there on the boxing mat.

But the memory, the flashback I had, was flawed for he no longer was my father. No, my true mother left me without a thought when things got hard, she fled like the coward she was and left me with the man who longed for vengeance.