The Mafia Love Prey

One minute she was there, and now she's not. Not that it would make much difference, she didn't really care for me anyway.

My mother was now dead, because of herself. Not purposely, but stupidly. She was hooked on heroin, it started with a few injections a week - then it turned to one every few hours hence why I was stood in her room watching her as she lay lifeless with a needle hanging out of her left arm.

I stood frozen on the spot, all I came in for was to give her a glass of Jack and Coke she ordered me to get for her. Yes, ordered, not asked because to her I wasn't a daughter - I was a servant, a helping hand and that's all I'd ever been.

My father who lived in Russia, got my mother pregnant when she was there on vacation. She didn't hesitate to tell him when she found out, she thought they were in love. Ha. Of course, he moved to America with her and things were just peachy keen until four years after she had me.

She became depressed, and neglectful and all my parents did was argue. One time my dad was away for work for the weekend and she'd forgotten to feed me, stayed in bed and yelled at me when I dared to ask for food or even a hug when I was crying, I had to eat stale bread and out of date twinkies until he got back.

That's apparently when he'd had enough, he divorced my mother and took her to court to gain custody over me. Of course he won when they figured out my mother needed psychological help and took her to a psychiatric unit for six months.

For the next three years I lived life happily with my father, but indubitably love never conquers all and something would always get in the way of it - in this case it was death. My dad suffered a cardiac arrest when I was at school, this was discovered when nobody came to pick me up that day and the local police department took me home when they saw a seven year old attempting to walk home alone.

My heart was left broken when the police had to break down the door to my house and walk in to discover that "Daddy is in the sky, that's why he didn't pick you up." was what I was told. When an ambulance arrived I heard the medics talking about ventricular fibrillation or something and how that caused his sudden death and lead him to have a cardiac arrest, I didn't understand that but mostly I didn't understand why this had to happen to me.

There was nobody to look after me since one set of my grandparents lived in Russia, and the other two were dead. I had no aunts or uncles, or older brothers and sisters so I was forced to move back in with my mother, except this time she had company. Permanent company.

Paul. My step father. I knew my mother had gotten married in secret a couple of years after she and my dad broke up, but I didn't know her new 'type' was monsters. Paul was the meanest, most sadistic man I knew yet my mother 'loved' him. More like she loved his money, and his connections he had to get her the drugs she needed.

As soon as I met Paul I knew he'd cause me a lot of problems. My mother was annoyed that I had to move back in with her, but due to not wanting any more trouble with the law she fed me, bathed me and put a roof over my head - all of which was a burden to her. Paul on the other hand, seemed to enjoy my company - or enjoy hurting me.

Whenever my mother was high, or out of the house and she left me alone with him he'd be drinking a lot and then he'd beat me, just because. And when he wasn't drinking, he still tried to use me. He'd make me polish his shoes, iron his clothes and cook. When I couldn't do these things, he'd hit me or threaten me.

Despite this, Paul never molested me, but he told me "When you're a bigger girl, I'll show you what I do to mommy at night time." I didn't understand what that meant until now.

I turned sixteen a few months ago, and since then Paul had humiliated me and tried to make me do disgusting things to him. When I refused to do so, he either forced me to pleasure him or he hit me and once he'd finished he rubbed himself in front of me like he had been aroused by hurting me.

Once, he beat me so badly I ended up breaking a few ribs and had to go to the hospital. He told the doctors I fell down the stairs. Sometimes he'd take polaroids of my beaten face and show me them to remind me how 'worthless' I was and left them in a box in my room. I didn't need to be shown to know, I thought.

And here I am now. In my, now, dead mothers bedroom. I dropped the glass I was holding in shock, and it shattered on the ground into a million pieces. Paul was out at work so I couldn't call him to get help, not that I would anyway.

I grabbed the phone that was on my mothers bed side and tried to avoid eye contact with her lifeless open eyes. I quickly dialled 911 and waited for the line to pick up and explained the situation, and was told medical help was coming.

I closed the lids of my mom's eyes not being able to take her staring any longer and sat down at her vanity staring at her with no expression.

I couldn't bring myself to cry and for that I felt horrible. Your mothers death should be the one that hits you most, and make you feel the worst but this wasn't the case - I actually felt relieved. I didn't have to feel like I was a burden to her any longer and I didn't have to feel like she was going to 'accidentally' push me down the stairs so that she'd live a child free life without having to spend any extra money on necessities for me.

I sat there for a moment longer before the doorbell rang, and I ran out of the room and downstairs before opening up the front door. Sirens were going off outside our suburban house and at least fifteen medics and police officers were outside, before many of them rushed in without saying a word bringing a stretcher through and up the stairs.

"You must be Leila Michaelson I'm-" a police officer holding a clip board came up to me and spoke.

"Aliyev. It's Leila Aliyev." I said no louder than a whisper. Michaelson was Paul's surname.

"Ah, yes sorry it's just written here that a Melissa and Paul Michaelson live here with their daughter Leila. As I was saying I'm Alex." he says looking down at the clipboard.

I didn't bother replying to that, I didn't have the energy to explain my situation.

He cleared his throat to fill the silence I made and continued talking "So where is your father then, Leila?" Alex asked politely.

"He's my step dad, and he's at work he should be home soon." I explain quietly.

"Okay, well I'm sure the news will be distressing to him but he will have to sign these forms made by the Court of Law to clarify that he will be your guardian for the next two years..." he begins to explain and then the rest, I drowned out.

No, this couldn't be happening. I couldn't let this happen. I mean with my mother it was bad, but when she wasn't too messed up Paul always chose her over me - now she was gone, I'd never be free of him. I didn't even go to school any more, I did it online and with Paul 'taking care' of me I'd never get a chance. Twenty four hours a day with Paul for two years would be Hell on Earth, and I wasn't going to stand for it.

"Leila? Are you okay, did you understand what I just said?" Alex asked soothingly, looking at me in concern as I snapped out of my thoughts.

"I-I just feel like...I need to go to the bathroom I don't feel too good." I say quickly before running back inside my house, pushing through the few paramedics that were there.

I ran into my bedroom and locked the door frantically pacing up and down. I needed to do something, and fast I couldn't let Paul win. I wouldn't let Paul win. I know what I was going to do, I was going to-

I was interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door, thinking it was Alex I quickly opened it, but when I became face to face with a poker faced Paul I felt my stomach drop.

"Your mother is dead." he stated the obvious, as he ran his fingers through his long curly gelled hair before stepping into my room. He was wearing his usual work suit, although I didn't know why because he didn't work for some big company - I actually didn't know where he worked but I knew he ran a shady business.

"I-I know..." I said barely above a whisper, my hands shaking nervously as I bit my bottom lip.

I thought Paul was going to show some compassion, or at least shed a tear for his now dead wife but all of a sudden his monotonous expression changed and his lips curled upwards into a smirk.

"That means it's just me and you Leila..." he began as he kicked my door shut with his leg, not turning his back on me, and started to walk toward me as I slowly moved back before almost immediately hitting my wall.

"Now, now don't walk away from me you naughty little girl." he chuckled as I stared up at him reluctantly. If it weren't for his venomous, perverted personality he would have been a good looking man for his age. He wasn't fat, but was fairly skinny with little muscle and around 5'10, he had defined facial features under his small amount of blond stubble and his gelled ash blond hair was naturally curled.

I gulped as his face moved closer towards mine "You and I..." he sucked in a breath "are going to have so much fun without your mother. In fact, I'll show you exactly what I did to her in the bedroom when she was alive." he whispered as he brought his hand towards my thigh, slowly bringing it upwards near my crotch.

I involuntarily squirmed in disgust, "Ple-please." I begged.

"Yes. That's exactly what you'll be saying when I've got my cock in your tight little pussy, dirty girl." he said gritting his teeth, as he gripped onto my leg tighter making me whimper.

His disgusting words made my eyes begin watering, I couldn't live my life like this. In fear I'd be raped or beaten at any time.

"Don't worry LeLe, you aren't ready yet," I hated the way he called me that "it will happen soon. When I think you are ready." he explains as his lips linger at my forehead before his chapped lips press against it.

He removed his hands and stepped away from me, before bellowing "Look at me when I talk to you next time!" making my eyes immediately dart towards him.

"Good little girl." Paul said as he made his way to the door. "Now I'm going to go back out to sort out a few things and I'll be back in a couple of hours, so grieve or whatever it is you want to do." he said nonchalantly before winking at me and heading out the door.

I let out a deep breath, I didn't even know I was holding. I counted to ten before removing myself from the wall and rushing over to my closet.

I knew what I had to do, I had to leave and fast. I heard the door slam and I could no longer hear any more voices or people moving things around so I knew I was alone. I hurriedly grabbed my small black suitcase and pulled some of my clothes off of the hangers and threw them in.

I carried on rushing around my room and threw anything important or sentimental into my case, not forgetting the necklace my real father gave me and decided I'd wear it now. I realized that I had no money on me, so I headed to my mom's room.

As disrespectful as it was it needed to be done, so I went through everything she had and finally found the stash of money I knew she kept in her room in case she ever needed it for drugs. She had at least a thousand dollars there and I took all of it.

I put a few extra things in the case and took anything that could be of value, as well as the money, and then shut the case. I threw on a sweatshirt and grabbed the small Nokia phone I had. I dialled a taxi and asked for it to pick me up down the street where nobody would see me.

I then took one last look at my now, almost empty, bedroom and let out a breath before closing the door and heading down the stairs.

I waited around for a little while, taking some food and drink with me in case I got hungry on the way to...well wherever the hell I was going and took some money from Paul's wallet that was laying on the table as well.

The taxi person called and I hurriedly headed out the door, making my way toward the parked taxi at the end of the street.

I opened the door at the back of the taxi and took a seat "Where to darlin'?" the chubby man asked.

"Uh...far, far away from here please." I said not knowing what else to say.

"Now that, I can do." he chuckled before driving off.

I stared out the window and felt a tear roll down my cheek.

Maybe now, I could finally be free and live a somewhat normal life, I thought.

Unfortunately, because it is me that's not what happened. At all.

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