The Mafia Boss, Me and My Babies

TMBMAMB 1: The Runaway

                  THE RUNAWAY

I'm so tired of living in this pit of hell. I'm hungry for peace, tranquil and stillness. I'm desperate of ending it all. Because life in here is anything but happiness. Yes, my father is a mafia boss, but he never cared about me. Nobody in this family cares about me. Heck, I can't even call this a family. My mother is nothing but a hopeless whore who doesn't know anything but to go to bed with different men. My brother hated me for all my life. I don't even know what I did him wrong. And I had never had the intention of knowing since it's pointless asking the person who has hated you ever since you were born. I also have a rotten-devil fiance. It's him who I disgusted and hated the most. I will never in his wildest dreams marry him. He is more than a fucked up man. And thinking about him brings up the idea of killing myself. The only problem is, I can't bring myself to do it.

So I ran. Ran away from pain. Ran away from misery. Ran away from hell. I was born a daughter of a mafia boss and I had been trained to fight and have the skills I mostly needed in surviving life outside my father's estate. I planned this escape for half a year and I had fully made my choice to leave the place that I have despised and the people I have loathed the day I had opened my eyes. And those half a year days of my life preparing was like living as a trainer trying to become a master. I learned how to shoot a gun, how to use one, how to use knives and combat skills that could protect me from anyone.

But, no matter how I tried to run away from that hell and from those nightmares, the memories are still haunting me.

It's been three days after I had escaped. And two sleepless nights ever since I had lived on my own and yet I wasn't left alone, for memories had eaten me and had fed me with fear and despair. And it has consumed me to the extent that I had considered of giving up, leaving me hopeless. The memories are too much that if I sleep, I dream of it. And I'd rather die than live my whole life thinking about how I suffered and dreaming how I was tortured. I thought leaving that place would bring me to peace, but I stand corrected.

Why? Why must I face this misery? Why must I go through this extreme suffering and tremendous pain? What did I ever do to deserve this?

So many questions running in my mind, so many doubts and unexplainable feelings. And nothing seem fit to clear them. Leading me in despair. Leaving me hopeless. Making me a lifeless shell, moving but no soul. One might as well consider me a walking dead.

A peaceful day came where I had the chance to walk and wander in the forest I had been hiding at for the couple of days, thoughts constantly running on my mind, squirting every idea it could formulate. Taking account of every possible consequences my future actions would drag me to.

Thoughts swimming so deep that I was drowned in my own world. Only was brought back to land when I heard rustles from the bushes.

I brought up my head and looked at the sight in front of me.

A man standing tall with his gun in his hand.

A gun pointed towards me.

I looked him in the eyes.

It took me a matter of second before knowing what situation I am in for...

and who I am facing with.

I was startled because of the unexpected event but not so much so as to give in a strand of a reaction.

I looked at him. No emotions, no sign of interest, no look of fear, just nothing. A thing I am best at doing.

"Tell me, what is a girl doing at a dangerous place such as this?" he asked as his gun still pointed at me.

Jayden Montreal.