Twenty |

                                    

                                          
Twenty |
I walked for a long time and found the cemetery. I couldn't bring myself to go in. Instead, I walked along the outside of the fence. Then, I sat on a stone bench and watched the sun rise over the horizon. Staring blankly at the scenery until my mind numbed like my body. I thought of Mia a lot, but I thought of my parents too. I thought of how they chose alcohol over me every fucking time. How they'd beat me as a child and told me how useless I was. My fingers ran over the bruise that Bianca had left on my skin. I thought about how many bruises my parents would leave across my skin and how at five years old I learned how to cover them.  
"What a pathetic waste of life," I whispered to myself.  
That was the truth, wasn't it? My parents had told me so, and the only person I had was Mia and I couldn't even stop her from being torn away from me. I was left alone and for what? To fuck a man who thought I was a nobody? For an illusion of a brother? I swallowed the lump in my throat. No one wanted me around.  
I held my hand up towards the sky, if I disappeared, would anyone notice? 
Footsteps sounded behind me and I didn't bother getting up. I could tell who it was by the fucking engine that ripped down the street a few seconds ago. I could also tell by the dead silence as the man sat beside me on the bench. I'm sure he felt a whole lot of pity for me right now. I looked a mess. My hair a rat's nest, and my make-up no doubt smeared. Not to mention the mud on the once pretty shoes.  
"I am extremely pissed off right now," Gabriele muttered.  
I jerked my head into a nod, "Ok." 
Suppose he'd want me to leave.  
"I have half a mind to bend you over this bench and spank your ass until you're crying." 
I flinched, "Ok."  
"Does that sound cruel?" 
"Yes," I whispered, dropping my gaze.  
He placed his arm on the back of the bench behind me, "Does it scare you?" 
"No." 
"Because you want the pain," he paused, "Or because you deserve the pain?" 
My face snapped to him with surprise.  
He merely stared at me without emotion, "Don't look surprise Topolina. I've made a living off making people suffer, my cock gets hard at making pretty woman hurt. I can see it."  
I swallowed the lump in my throat, "Can it not be both?" 
"It can," he agreed before looking towards the trees, "But it's not. Not right now." 
Tears pricked carefully in my eyes and I wanted nothing more but for them to fall but they didn't. Instead, they continued to make my eyes glossy, and my nose runny. Despite how much he's made me feel like shit, I appreciated this little moment of understanding.  
"I'm no body." I echoed.  
He nodded, "To him? You are." 
"And to Elena?" I snapped, "Who are you?" 
        His eyes slid to me before they moved back to the trees, "Many things. Mainly? Diavolo. Lei è la visione perfetta di Lilith. La buona cagna del diavolo."  
I breathed out in frustration, "I don't understand italian." 
"I know. You should learn."  
My eyes rolled as I rubbed my cold arms, "Take me back."  
He glanced at me carefully, "Are you going to jump out of my car?" 
"Maybe," I joked, my brow raising, "Are you going to play EDM?"  
A frown passed those gorgeous lips, "What the fuck is EDM?"  
I giggled all the way back to my prison.  
"Mia," I whispered, laying my head on her shoulder, "Do you think I'll ever be happy?" 
She sat up, "Of course you will!"  
"But I'm not," I said softly, tears falling down my face. 
"It's ok, you don't have to be happy all the time," she whispered.  
I sobbed loudly, "I-I'm not happy most of the t-time." 
Tears brimmed in her eyes and she sobbed too, "Oh Pops..." 
I jolted awake, hugging Mr. Tooth to my chest. My eyes hurt, my legs hurt and my head hurt. I let out a soft sigh and sat up carefully. Of course, this is why I didn't club. Firstly, I don't like people. I don't like people touching me and I'd forgotten that. Secondly, I didn't like the after effect. It didn't matter if you didn't drink, clubbing always made you feel like shit. I checked the time on my new phone. I'd slept only a few hours which meant it was just before noon. I groaned, rubbing my sore face.  
Today is a new day.  
I showered and prayed that I didn't look how I felt.  
Then, I got dressed in a pair of jeans and pulled on a faded shirt before heading down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. At the counter was Bianca. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and she had a split lip. My eyes widened. It didn't matter how I felt—she looked so much worse. To my surprise, that didn't make me feel better. 
"Bianca--" 
"--don't," she snarled at me, "talk to me." 
I flinched as she moved out of the room. I slapped her but I hit her cheek--I did not split her lip wide open. It looked like she had gotten stiches. Fear filled me. I was afraid for her. I moved over to the counter and started my coffee. If someone hit her, I should tell Gabriele.  
"It's not your problem American."  
My eyes shifted to where Marco stood in the doorway.  
"How long have you been there?" I asked.  
He shrugged, staring at me carefully.  
"Thank you, for not telling Gabriele that I had left," I sighed.  
Another shrug, "It's not my problem." 
Then he turned and left. I watched him go with a frown. He was very curious. I wondered what his job within the mafia was—actually, I didn't know anyone's job. I stared at my cup as it filled with coffee. I didn't know anything, goddamn I'd been wasting my time flirting. I felt like an idiot. I looked up as laughter filled the room. Marcella and Lorenzo wandered in.  
"Hey!" I chipped brightly.  
They stopped, looking at me with surprise.  
"You're alive!" Lorenzo laughed, "And so am I! I thought Vittore would kill us all last night. You are a very, daring woman."  
Marcella rolled her eyes, "We should talk later Poppy." 
"Yes!" I replied with excitement, "We should." 
I wanted to know everything I could about the mafia.  
She gave me a sympathetic look before the two carried on deeper into the house and something told me we did not want to talk about the same thing. I stirred sugar into my coffee and watched from the corner of the room. The house seemed livelier than ever with people coming and going. Some I'd never seen before—those glanced at me curiously, and others seemed very intent on avoiding my general direction all together. I just took it all in with a bright grin on my face. Today would be my day, I could feel it.  
"Ah! Buongiorno Poppy," Luigi greets walking into the kitchen.  
I gave him a smile, "Good morning, Luigi." 
"Make me a cup, would you?" he yawned, sitting at the island.  
Nodding, I turned to do so. I didn't mind--I had been standing in the way after all. And Luigi was probably one of the only people actually nice to me in this hell hole. Today he wore a white button up shirt and a pair of black slacks, a pistol tucked into the hem of his pants. I turned to start brewing the coffee.  
Click.  
I turned around slowly; Luigi had his gun out and pointed directly at me.