Promised to the Tyrant

Present …

Two girls walk out of the back door of the club clad in a two piece, well if you can call a couple of strings on their body being dressed. They are about the same age as me.

Soon a man follows them out. He looks familiar. Wait, I know him. I think he is from our neighbourhood. Oh yes, his daughter is in my class.

Will he help me, after all, I am as old as his daughter.

I am still wondering about that, when he leans closer to one of the girls, and then gives her bare ass a tight squeeze.

I gulp, looking at the awkward scene in front of me and abandon any thoughts of asking him for help.

If there were any doubts in my mind what type of club this was, they have cleared. I am not even sure why I am here. I should not be here, at this hour or any hour.

Earlier that day…

“Omertà! Omertà!”

Who was that?

That sure sounds like my father. But that can’t be, can it?

I might as well have imagined it. It’s already 8pm, and I have been up and running since 4am, but these chores just never seem to end. My shoulders feel stiff, and my legs have almost given up. I am exhausted!

After stretching my neck & arms, I get back to the pile of clothes in front of me. I need to hurry. I still have to clean the dishes, complete my schoolwork, and I am starving. I skipped lunch as well, since I was late from school.

No wonder I am hearing things and that too such impossible things, like my father calling me, can you imagine?

My father has never called me or spoken to me in all of seventeen years of my existence. He barely even acknowledges me.

It’s not that we don’t see each other often.

I mean, we live in the same house, where you cannot not run into each other. In fact, I serve him his morning coffee and all his breakfast & dinner every day.

But despite all of this, my father has always ignored me.

Actually, that’s not true he doesn’t ignore me, I just don’t exist for him, period.

I wonder if he secretly believes that if he to not acknowledge my existence, I would one day cease to exist at all. And all his problems will be over in a poof just like that.

Sometimes, I hope that this is true as well, that I just cease to exist one day. It is not like it will matter to anyone.

“Omertà, Omertà “this time my father’s voice rings through the house, clearing all my doubts. It is definitely him and he is calling me. He really is calling me. I am still shocked.

“Omertà, come down right now”, and with that last call, I hurry down, taking two steps at a time, to face my father for the first time in all my 17 years

While I am rushing down the stairs, I hear some heated voices, and as I approach the kitchen, I can almost hear my grandmother arguing with my father. I had no idea she had come over.

“She is your daughter Lucio, how can you forget that?” nana yells, fury evident in her voice