Marrying The Mafia Prince

Chapter 1

When people say that their life is hard I always wonder what they mean some say it's hard because of school or a boy wont text them back, for me it's that I have a controlling and abusive father.

I feel like I am at an AA meeting "Hi my names Gabby and my dad is an abusive and alcoholic man".

In his deffence even though i shouldnt be deffending the man he wasn't always like that he was great at one point in my life,the best dad anyone can have when my mum was around. Then it all went downhill. I remember I came back home from school one day, I walked into the house and usually mum would be sitting in her chair with a smile on her face ready to ask me the usual questions like "how was school" or "have you got any homework you need help with?".

That day she wasn't there I looked around called out for her but nothing no reply whatsoever. Being confused as she didnt tell me in the morning that she wouldnt be here fro me to get home.I called my dad on the house phone as he was still at work and usually wont be back till 6.30pm for dinner that would always have readdy on the table for him. Dad answered the call but before i could say anyhting started questioning me why I was calling him, I explained that mum wasn't at home. He briefly said to me stay where i was dont touch anthung and wait for him to get back, after 20 minutes of me doing what i was told i didnt even take my backpack off as i was to scared that i would get into trouble as he said dont move. Father walked in the house and started to look around the house he looked in the back yard as well. Then he went upstairs to their bedroom. I snuck up their after 5 minutes I peeked through the door and saw dad sitting on the bed tears in his eyes and holding a piece of paper.

From that moment he didn't talk to me just sat in the same position with the same tears threatingin to spill form him, I tried to ask questions about where mum was but he got really angry and then would blank me and go ino the batheroom and shut the door on me. The 2nd year of my mum 'disappearance' he lost his job due to his behaviour at work and the drinking of which started to not be only in the confounds of the home. I have an abusive dad but if you didn't know that and you met me you wouldn't assume. In some way is good, because I hate people giving me sympathy.

I don't have friends or anyone else in my life just me and dad, don't get me wrong I have always wanted friends someone to talk to about normal thing like boys, colleges and you know just life. But when it actually comes to talking to people I can't, maybe because it's the fear that they will judge me or that my dad might harm them so after a while I just gave up.

My day goes like this;

1. Get up

2. Make sure everything is perfect so I don't get beaten

3. cook my dad breakfast

4. Cover it for when he comes around after a night of drinking

5. Rush to school, stay quiet do my work

6. Sprint home to clean and cook for my dad

7. Get slapped for doing something wrong

8. Wait for him to go to the bar

9. Do homework and sleep.

And its starts all over again the next day like Groundhog Day or like the cool kids say 'same shit different day' well I think that's what they say.

Well that was my day to day life until it all changed

I was in the middle of cleaning up when my dad came in from his afternoon drinking session down at the bar. I hate it when he comes home it makes my anxiety reach it limits, I was cleaning up the mess that he made by mums chair as he walks up behind me I can feel his breath on my neck making the hairs stand up.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING" he said right in my ear,

"I'm cleaning the MESS that YOU made by mums chair" raising my voice so he will understand most of the words while trying to back up to get some distance from him.

"I AM SO SICK OF YOU THINKING THAT YOU CAN TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, I AM YOUR FATHER REMEMBER THAT I AM NOT THE ONE THAT LEFT YOUR MOTHER DID THAT." While he was saying this he was starting to get closer to me. Every step he took towards me I took one back trying to put some distance between us.

I knew at this point that somehow I have pissed him off more which is not that hard as I repulse him just because I look like my mum apparently. All that I know is that I have to get out of here I can't run upstairs to my room as he has taken the door of my door so that I can't block the door like I used to do. He was not happy; I could hear him breathing loader and loader like a tiger ready to pounce. Before I knew what to do or where to go, he quickly turned around started walking towards the kitchen and going near the bread board were the knife was.

This is the time to run I can't do this anymore my body can't take another scar to add to the list. I bolt out of the door when he was making his way back to me.