YOUNG ANGELO (Ten-year-old);
I ran up the stairs that led to our family house, my heart beating rapidly in my chest, as I held onto the paper in my hands tightly.
Stepping into the living room–I looked around. Father wasn’t here. I could hardly recall the last time I was in here, as well. This was my father’s living room, which I was never allowed to set foot on.
But this was a rather important matter, and I know Father would be so eager to hear it.
“Oh, heavens!!” A shrill voice sounded, and I quickly turned to the side. It was my stepmother, Agnes. She had just come out of her room, I presume, her hands covering her mouth, eyes impossibly wide, as she stared at me with a shocked expression.
“How dare you step your filthy legs into this house,” she screamed dramatically, as she took heavy strides towards me, her heels clinking on the marble floors.
She had barely taken another step, when my father barged out of the room, behind her.
“What the hell is going on here?” He bellowed, his voice causing me to flinch in fear.
It took me a lot of guts to come in here, but I stood straight, and I was sure he would be eager to hear what it was, I had to say.
However, the moment my father’s eyes settled on me, he frowned, the lines on his forehead, creasing, as his face morphed into a scary one.
“I can see you are in desperate need of a good lashing, Angelo Fabian! Haven’t you learnt….?”
“There… there is a message for you, Father. It’s from the Italian Syndicate.” I spoke, as quickly as I could, knowing fully well that he doesn’t particularly love to be interrupted while speaking.
If my father looked scary earlier, right at this moment, he looked deadly. The mention of the Italian Syndicate always riled him up. Simply because they were rivals—they shared an animosity that ran deep in the family blood.
My father was the Don of the Bianchi Syndicate… the largest Mafia Syndicate in the country. But not as large and strong as the Italian Syndicate.
“Oh, don’t pay heed to him, my dear. He is blabbing nonsense, again!” Stepmother remarked as she tried to sway my father’s attention.
Father’s eyes settled on the piece of paper in my hand, and he quickly came forward and snatched them from me.
It was not exactly a secret that my father hated me, but I know that his animosity with the Italian Syndicate was not to be compared to the trifle of hate he had for me. Hence, he would take this matter rather seriously.
“What is this!?” He growled, his eyes flaring at me dangerously, “Where did you get this?”
“It was in the yard, father. They…” My voice broke, as I spoke, “They took Mother!”
I had opened the parcel when I saw it, and in it, were photos of my mother, chained to the arms and legs, with a gun pointed at her head.
There was no other face in the photo, which could have signified who her kidnappers were, but the hand pointing the gun at her had the Italian Syndicate’s tattoo.
There was also an instruction in the letter, in which they gave a speculated time for my father to show up or else, they kill her.
Anticipation bubbled in me, as I awaited my father’s decision. No doubt, he wouldn’t take this lightly.
But I was quite surprised, when I felt his hard palm on my cheek, causing me to fall on my knees.
“Father…?” My confused face looked up at him, holding my stung cheek with a hand.
“You useless boy!” He growled, “Is this why you decided to disrupt my evening? Haven’t I warned you not to step foot in here, until you are done tending to the horses!?”
My head was bowed low, as he spoke. And I kept getting more confused.
Didn’t he hear me?
Or perhaps he didn’t read the letter properly? I wondered.
But that wasn’t my father. He was meticulous and detailed. And he sure as hell read that.
“But, father… Mother was taken by them..”
“Shut your tramp, you scum!” He kicked me on the hips with his strong boots.
The pain shot through my body, but I ignored it, as I held on to his legs, “Please… father. You can’t leave Mother with them. They will kill her!”
“Then, so be it! She is useless anyway! You are both useless!” His words stung… but more like a punch to the gut.
Although, their mother and I, weren’t given the best treatment in the house, ever since he remarried and brought his family here. They always do things to us, signifying we are as good as the horse shit in the stables, which I was entrusted to clean every single day.
This was the first time Father had openly called us useless.
And it stung!
My fists clenched in my hands, angry, but there was nothing I could do. We were literally at his mercy.
I couldn’t sleep that night. At the little corner in the stable, where I rested my head, I worried about my mother.
Every second, every minute, was like torture, as I could not help but imagine what they would do to her if their father failed to comply.
I stood up abruptly that night, determinedly, as I tiptoed to the gate.
It was midnight, and the environment was semi-dark, but some of the guards still patrolled around.
I made my way to the front gate, but there were a bunch of guards there. And there was absolutely no way I could get past them.
Which left me with one other option.
The back fence.
I made my way there, as stealthily as possible.
It was quiet, and there was no one roaming about. The fence was high, but it was a good thing a bench was at the side… which I presumed, must be kept there by one of the guards.
Well, I needed to be quick, before they came around.
I drew the bench carefully to the wall and made to climb it when a scream was heard, and I fell on my back.
I stood up sharply, only to meet the gaze of my stepbrother, Klaus, smirking at me.
“I knew you would try to escape!” He gloated, his eye shining in the dark of the night.
“Father! Guards!! Guards!!!” He screamed and my eyes widened, knowing fully well I was done for.
Well, that night was an unforgettable experience, as my father made sure I couldn’t feel my body for days.
****
Two days passed, and Father still didn’t say a word. I risked my life numerous times, walking up to him, and pleading for him to save my mother. I didn’t know what I would do without her, as she was the only person I had left.
Another day passed, and another, making the fourth day. That evening, a parcel was brought in for my father, and he sent for me immediately.
This time, Father had a carefree expression on his face, as he sat on a recliner in the living room, smoking a pipe.
Stepmother sat beside him, the corners of her lips, curled up in a smile, as she stared at me.
Something was different that day. I could feel it in the air. Even my stepbrother, Klaus, came up to me, in his designer wear, and muttered a AAAAAACongratulations to my ear, before he dashed out of the room.
My expectant face met my father’s, as I knelt in front of him.
“I am here, father. You called for me?” I asked.
“Yes, Angelo,”
My eyes lightened, “Is.. is it about mother? Are you getting her out? Are they gonna let her out?”
My step mother chosed that exact moment to laugh out loud, “Oh, you, Silly boy. Your mother is here.”
“She is?” I turned my gaze to her, glancing between them both, “Where is she? Father?”
Father sat upright, as he reached out to a brown parcel, sitting on the table, and flung it to me.
The stuff missed my head, by a bit.
“There!” Father growled, “You want to see your mother. There she is! You can see her all you want!”
He stood up, and they left the living room.
Curious, and more confused than ever, I looked down at the parcel in front of me.
I found the opening, and parted it slightly, to reveal what was inside. But there was only dark stuff in it, which I couldn’t understand.
I opened the parcel wider, and placed my hand into it, attempting to take it out.
My hands felt something hairy, and I brought it up…
My mother’s fearful eyes stared back at me, and a scream escaped my lips.
Trickles of blood fell on my shorts, as I realized I was holding her hand in my hands.
My hands trembled, as I subconsciously flung it far away from me.