Mafia princess

Chapter 1: Discresion

First chapter... Let's go

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"Fuck society." I thought to myself, well more of yelled aloud.

Well that was a nice daily scream.

The days had gotten worse having been stuck at home for several weeks. I was under strict instructions by my mother to not leave. For what reason, I don't know!

"everyone sucks." I groaned pacing around my room throwing things out of their place.
Truth be told, I was making a mess just so I had something to do.

Sienna get a grip you're a train wreck.

Right, I'll be productive. Let me try something... therapeutic.

Fuck therapeutic, bitch you need therapy.
Don't I know it.
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So there I was, in this small and compact New York City apartment that I referred to as my home.
Well nowadays it felt more like a prison.

I was perched up on my window with my knees bunched up, scribbling vigorously in my journal. I had always kept a journal, my mother thought it was important to always control your emotions but one thing she told me was to  only write what you would want people to know and never what they shouldn't know.

I know right, that defeats the whole purpose!

Honestly, I kept it for her satisfaction. I never really felt the need to use it. But hey! There's a first time for everything.

I never understood what she meant by 'only write what you want people to know', but I never questioned her. I wholeheartedly trusted her so I did as she said. It always limited what I could write about because there was a lot that I thought people shouldn't know about me, like who I was or my tragic lifestyle.

I am still not fully aware of why my mother brought me up the way she did, I knew it was different to how everyone else around me was raised. I never felt like the odd one out though, I felt special so I didn't mind.

Whilst other young girls played with Barbies and experienced the joys of colouring, my childhood consisted of intense training and a strict education.
Though not the type you would learn in school it was more beneficial to my situation. Well that's what my mother told me. It never bothered me though, I felt pretty badass because of it.

Maybe I just tell myself that to feel special.
Fuck it, I am special.

After a while of writing in my book of lies, I dragged myself off the window and stretched out all my bones as they were beginning to cramp up.

Gosh I'm really fucking unfit.

I headed to my bathroom to take a shower before my mother arrived home, she was at work and I knew she would yell at me if she came back and I hadn't showered already.

And let me tell you, hearing an angry Italian mother yell at you is very scary.

I did the usual, you know, wash my hair, shave and exfoliate my delicate, tanned skin and sing along to my R&B playlist, which I pride myself in. I switched off the shower after my mini concert and patted myself dry before moisturising and dressing myself as well as running a comb through my hair.

As I tidied my things away in the bathroom, I realise I have multiple missed calls from my mom. What could be so urgent? I go to turn the music off my phone when I see her name pop up on the top of my phone.

*Hide! Go to the place now and don't come out no matter what. I love you Mia figlia .* (my daughter)

Now I know what you're thinking... this sounds like a movie, well my life is far from a movie, though sometimes I'm think it would be fun if people knew my story.