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Crime Teens & Young Adult Drama

     I have to do it. It doesn’t matter if I want to or if I don’t, I have to do it for the sake of my family. I didn’t always want to lead a crime family, actually, as a child, I hated the idea of it so much I run away multiple times through my pre-teens. But, now that I’m almost eighteen I’m dealt with the difficult decision to become a leader or an outcast. I look over to my little brother Marcus, he’s barely seven, I can’t burden him with this responsibility. After all, it is my fault my father is dead in the first place. Marcus grabs my hand from the table I’m sitting at and leads me to the dance floor. He dances with such joy, such pure ignorance to the world, that I can’t take my eyes off him. 

  My mind is made up, I have to become the next mafia boss. I can’t bear to strip Marcus of his innocence at such a young age, I don’t want him to have to go through what I had to. I leave Marcuses and I walk to the front of the huge dining hall. I step on stage and a chill runs through my spine. I hate violence, I hate money, and I hate my father, but this is the price I have to pay for Marcus’s freedom. I walk to the center and I grab the microphone off of the stand. “My name is Isabella Selena Anson, and I am the next boss of this family,” the words feel uncomfortable in my mouth as I step back. I feel sick thinking about what I just proclaimed, hundreds of cheers coming from the crowd, sending me into a panic. I run down the steps of the stage trying to find a route to escape, my family members surrounding me in a congratulating sea of people. I finally make it out of the backdoor avoiding nearly every confused glance and sneer as I finally reach the back patio. 

  I take a deep breath and put my back to the wall. I may have just sold my soul, I think to myself laughing at the absurdity of my situation. I let my mind wander for a bit, thinking of past memories of high school, old friends, and even a boyfriend or a few before I’m startled back into reality. “Isa,” Marcus says, taking a step forward. “Why did you do it,” he looks at me with a confused, almost dazed expression. “I had to,” I say, straightening my back. I can’t bear to answer any more questions, expressly from him right now. I turn my back to him and start walking back into the party wondering if I’ll ever do the right thing. 

 Sometimes I reflect back on my past choices and I feel unwell, usually because I made the wrong one. But here and now I have the same feeling even though this is the only way. When I walk back into the party I am greeted by the smiling faces of my so-called “family,” family doesn’t tell a seventeen-year-old girl that if she doesn’t sacrifice her future to the mafia that they will bestow that burden on a little kid. My childhood best friend, Amber, wraps me into a tight hug of congratulations, but honestly, it makes me feel like I’m suffocating. I exchange tight fake smiles, I thank everyone for being there and I finally get to return back to my apartment upstairs of the dining hall. While walking I look at our family portraits and wonder how many of them were forced into leadership just like I am. When I open my apartment door I make a beeline to my bed and drift off in what seemed like an instant.

I wake up to the sun shining directly into my eyeball and a maid yelling into my ear. I walk downstairs for breakfast, still half asleep might I add when I hear Marcus screaming. I bolt up the stairs and when I get there I see Marcus screaming at a poor maid as hard as he can. “Marcus what's the matter, buddy,” I say trying the soothe him but he doesn't even blink an eye at me. The maid walks over to me and starts, “I was just telling him about his schedule, Breakfast, Horseback riding, lunch, getting ready, and then the big meeting tonight,” she says in awe of the boy still panicking in front of her. That's when I realized what this was really about. I walk over to Marcus and I Scoop him up, trying to avoid his flailing limbs. 

  Marcus calms down when we enter my room, his panicked breathing coming to an end. He takes a deep breath and begins,” If the coronation happens that means that dad is really gone and that you’re leaving me,” he says beginning to cry again. I process this as well as I can, he was supposed to inheart dad’s business, but with the suddenness of the situation and his age, that's no longer an option. Maybe I could have taken Marcus and fled the country, maybe we could have dyed our hair and took on new identities, maybe we could have joined the circus. But none of that matters now, I have to deal with the decision I made. I wrap my arms around him and after what seemed like forever he calmed down enough to go to breakfast.

  My mother died when I was young, when it happened Marcus was just a baby. My dad died barely three months ago, but we always knew to prepare for it ever since we were little. Now I’m in my bedroom, I look in my closet for something to wear to the meeting tonight but I come up empty. My hands brush the fabric of the finest dresses money can buy, but still, nothing seems worthy enough for a day like this. I walk slowly to my mother’s old closet, while a lot of the clothes are outdated (considering she died in 2014) I still manage to find a gorgeous Lavender gown. I remember the day she wore this distinctly, it was the day my father because boss after my grandfather died.

I walk down my staircase, and the grief begins to set in. The rest of my life is gone I am now dedicated to cause I don’t even care about. When I walk into the dining room the usual upbeat mood is not replaced by seriousness and hostility. I sit at the head of the table for the first time in my entire life, that seat is reserved for the top dog, which I guess is me now. The chatter that surrounds the room comes to a close as soon as I take my seat. The curtains are drawn, the doors are shut, and briefcases are placed in front of me. My uncle Rowan starts the meeting, “Before I being I would first off like to start congratulations to my little niece Isa” the erupts in claps and cheers.

  “But, moving on from that we under a major threat right now, our brothers to the east have turned on us and joined Mathis’s family,” we all share looks of concern and confusion. “Last night after the party three of our men were ambushed and killed,” Before I even know what's happening I agree that we should attack. Rowan said we were to set up a little after dawn so we have the night to rest and plan. 

After the meeting, I slowly walk through the silent halls on our manor and make my way towards Marcus’s room. I open the door and crawl into bed with him. My father wasn't around a lot when we were growing up so I became a sort of mother figure to him. He shuffles around and looks at me in a half-asleep haze, he recognizes who it is and we both drift off. 

I wake up around 3am to the sound of rain lightly tapping on the roof. I hug Marcus and kiss him on the check and I make a quiet exit out of the door. When I walk into my room the first thing I do is head straight to the shower. After, I dress and head down to the main level of the house. When I walk down the stairs I'm greeted by about a hundred of our family members in a rushed breakfast haze. After everyone finishes eating we load up into about fifty different cars and we head to our place of attack.

When we arrive at Mathis’s headquarters it's dead silent, I clutch my gun in my hand. After about fifteen minutes of waiting in a car with some of the others, I hear the first bomb go off. We charge out of the cars carrying all sorts of weapons dressed in bulletproof gear. I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass of a window and I realize, this is real and I'm really doing this. I see Mathis jump out of one of the back windows. I run after them and, I pull the trigger. I made a mistake that can never be undone. 

May 19, 2021 17:04

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1 comment

Marianna Mills
18:04 May 26, 2021

Some punctuation errors, capitals where they don't belong. proofread. always proofread. it was the day my father because boss after my grandfather died? doesnt make sense at all. Also a bit confusing, a hundred members into fifty cars to do one hit job? Okay, usually a Mafia hit job requires only one hit man and a getaway car, stuff like that, try to focus on the feel. Resting and planning a hit like that in one night? I don't think so, "Their eyes showed haggard, tired dark circles from having been up night after night to plan the ...

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