♠TWENTY FOUR♠

                                    

                                          
•Salvatore Camara•
The walls, the vase, even the concrete floor reminded me of him, it was sickening and not how i had planned on spending my saturday.
The peeled wallpaper was replaced with a striking white paint, the broken vases was replaced with gold jars and the leaking ceiling was hard covered with a square shaped pop, closing of the artic and the ladder.
I remember using that hiding spot, i remember running up there and crying everytime i heard his voice.
Present me wouldnt believe the piece of shit i was when i was a kid. I cried over every damn thing.
He said it was unpleasant and that i needed to grow up, honest to God, i did believe it, i believed him.
How else would i be standing here without those scars, how else would i be a Mafia lord without those scars, it was the tradition, So he said.
So i believed him, he wanted the best for me, is what i like to tell myself.
I spunk the lighter to life as i was about to place it over my cigarette when a soft voice tuned me back to reality.
"Salvatore" God this woman should let me be for a damn minute. I quickly hid the lighter, throwing the cigarette out the window.
"May" i said giving her my best fake smiles. If anyone deserved my best fake smile it was her, she stuck to this mess of a family as long as i could remember.
"Oh boy, i just cant believe my favourite boy is here" she smiled placing her hand on my face "All grown"
"All grown indeed, Mam" i said smiling cheekily. Cant a man just smoke in peace.
"Its been 4 years since you left and never showed up to visit" she stated, her eyes filled with pity. I hated this shit, i hated it so damn much, everyone thought i was a hormonal kid going through his feelings while i just wanted to be simple left alone beside no damn person in the 21st century classify 18 as a kid.
I was grown and i could leave on my damn own, smoke and club. It was very much legal.
"I wasnt a kid May, i needed to follow my own path" i said.
"You could've paid us a visit" she stated, "atleast once a year" she added. I looked out the window, not able to justify my self decisions without saying 'my brothers are dickheads and this house reminds me of him'
"You know i dont like this generation communication services, i rather see you in person and i dont know how to use those flashy phones of this time"
I sighed. The woman was born and raised in the 60s and would do anything possible to stay back in that time.
I didnt blame her, her husband died when she had Dior so i did understand her logic about staying in the past.
Me on the other hand would do anything possible to stay away from the past, may it die there and never revive.
I remember quite vividly buying her an ios and her complaining over evey thing about from screen to the poor access of the phone.
She preferred a black berry phone over any other high storaged one she said it was easy to use and portable. Portable i did understand but easy i did not.