In love with the Enemy.

9

9:                                                                                           {}

Do you ever wonder how big the sky is? An exact number of stars? If there's any other specimen out there, just waiting to be found?

My hands rested, upon one another on my chest, rising and falling with every breath I take, My hair falling back, my head dangling from the edge of the bed. My legs prompt up on the wall, my room dark, the only light is the light from the ceiling.

My little star.

I always wonder why I can't get him out of my head. He seemed different, now that I think about it. 

Special. If I want to put much effort into it. But I'm not good at words. Though, I believe words means more.

My eye's closed, the sounds of my breathing is the only thing I could hear.

It was so quiet I heard a little sound. So light, you almost couldn't make it out.

Another one. And another one. I grabbed my phone, taking the flashlight and moving it around the room.

Another one.

I looked down at the wooden floor to see little drops falling. I looked up and there was no signs of any hole in the ceiling. Plus, If there was one, that means the leak is coming up from the Attic.

I felt something tickle my cheeks and I touched it. When I looked down at my finger's I saw red. Blood.

My breath was shaky, My eyes widen.  I could hear the beat of my heart beating rapidly as I stared at my bloody fingers.

"Pst."

I looked around into the darkness of my room. "W-who's there!"

I brought the flashlight up and spinned it around, showing no one.

"I'm over here."

I flashed it to the direction. "Right here..."

I spinned around, sitting up in my bed. My hands were trembling and the feeling of something rolling down my cheeks wouldn't go away.

"Look."

It was so close. It felt like the person was right there. Breathing on me, Right beside me. I felt frozen, yet I turned around slowly, light following.

When I turned completely around, the light showing what's in front of me, I knew I was going crazy. I could feel the wheels turning in my head, my heart racing. I felt like I was suffocating, drowning. No one able to save me from this feeling...

"Did you miss me My little star?"

And in that moment... I screamed.

~

People say when you die your in a better place. Your smiling, having fun. Watching over people you loved and cared for. It's as if you never died...

But that's all a lie. 

Your body is in a grave, underneath the ground, hearing the sounds around you, yet you can't do anything about it.

It's like your paralyzed, as you feel the worms go through the holes in your body, coming from your eyes down to your nose and in and out through your mouth. Nothing's pretty about death. Nothing is pretty about life. Nothing is pretty at all.

Dad told me, Told us, To feel some sort of comfort, write a tick mark for every time you killed someone. Keep count. Doesn't matter if there innocent or not, jot it down.

I found myself doing that, sometimes skipping the days, losing the exact count of bodies I put a bullet through or snapped there heads or just made them stop breathing.

At first, it felt like I was in a dream. A nightmare dream. It was me, standing there just watching. Watching a little bird, struggle to fly, to walk all because I  chopped off its wings, I made it stop flying. I, I, I.

I threw up that day. I watched the man I put a bullet through lay there lifeless, blood oozing out of him like a drink that's been spilled.

Just like the boys, I coped with it. I had a choice and I chose it. 

But people cope in different ways. Mines? Letting them haunt me in my sleep...

That 35 year old man wasn't exactly my first kill... Silver eyes was. 

~

"So when is the trip?"

I cursed under my breath. I flipped my phone over and saw the date. Today is the deadline on turning in the money. "I don't think I want to go." I whispered. It grew quiet and I looked up too see all eyes on me. Great.

"What? Why?" Dad asked. I shrugged. "I have too much on my plate, I can't slack down on work, just to go to some field trip. I'm 19 not 12."

"The point of going is to experience being 19." Mom said. I looked at her. "Let me ask you this Alva. And this goes to all of you boys as well." She pointed a finger at each of us. "If you never knew of the life your father and I had, if you never knew of the Italian Mafia... What would you be doing with your life right now? Think about it."

We did. 

What would I be doing if my job wasn't to kill people?

"I would be a chef." Dusk mumbled. He chuckled. "I think I like to cook. See all those different colors come together to create a art work."

"Ok good. Adrian?"

"Um... Maybe a doctor? Like dad wanted to be?"

"That's a good choice... Daniel?"

Daniel scratched his neck, looking uncomfortable... "I don't know ma. I never really thought about it."

"It's ok. You don't need to have a answer right away, but if you ever do think about it, tell me ok?"

He nodded. All eyes were on Allaric. "Help people. That's all I know. I would find a job, that truly.. Help's people."

All these thoughts... Of becoming someone we would of become if the Mafia wasn't in our blood.

While I go undercover, like a assassin. Dusk is the hacker, could hack into anything within seconds. The twins does the dirty work. Clean up the bodies, shit like that. Allaric? He's like dad. The leader. But not quite. Dad gave up the Leader proposition after I was born. He gave it to Uncle Jason, letting him decide what to do with it.

Some say he did it because he wanted to have a normal life.. Some say he did it for a thank you for taking a bullet to the leg and shoulder for me. Whatever the reason, I am glad.

"But the point I am trying to make to you Alva, is that I want you guys to have a experience outside the world of killing. Don't get so caught up in it that it becomes the stuff you eat, sleep and breathe. Have fun. Have a life. Please... Go to the field trip. You never know what could happen..."

*-*Nothing haunts us like the things we don't say.*-*