#twmentionsofsextrafficking

[forever-in-stone]

My father sat amongst the grotesque immoral gentlemen who were attempting to sway him to do the unimaginable. 

"We have well over two dozen females, some of which are barely twelve," the one they called Buscetta spoke in a gravelly voice, nearly burning fire into my very core. 

"I'm sorry, but we are not interested in that line of work," my father disclosed, indifferently. My father was a man of many talents, as all gangsters are I suppose. One of which was an unwavering nerve in the eye of arrogant seducers. I personally, would rather have their sadistic dicks ripped from their body. 

"Come on Marco, they are fine quality, and the income they would bring in alone would be enough to hang your hat on," Romano jabbered, his sweaty palm running through his greasy black hair. He knew the odds were now against them and he was eager to find the right thing to say that was going to persuade my father in their direction.

 "We just need a front to get them across the seas," Buscetta nagged, wanting to get straight to the point, he knew the answer would be either yes or no and that would be that. Marco was rarely the kind of man that changed his mind once it was set. 

A cool hand reached up and a soft finger rubbed the bottom lip of the grey haired male. Contemplation crossed his face for a moment; the scraping sound of a rusty, metal chair whining from his body standing up from the table.  I vaguely acknowledged the footsteps that were ascending in my direction, until a firm hand clasped my left shoulder. 

I struggled to tear my gaze away from the peaceful view that entrapped not only my mind, but my soul. That is, if I actually had a soul. The sound of the roaring Mediterranean Sea crashing against the large rocks that surrounded Lampedusa, made for a welcoming distraction against the horrors that were unfolding around me. 

I squared my broad shoulders in attempt to make myself appear even bigger in the eyes of my pompous father. Marco was a good foot shorter than I, although that never seemed to get in his way. I turned my dark Azure glare onto him, fighting the urge to blow their heads off. 

"We don't need them-" my father's hand raised to cut me off before he turned his eyes to the roaring shoreline, accepting the earth's aggression. Two fists reached out to grab the pair of binoculars that I, only moments ago, had aimed at two delicious women on the far side of the island. 

"You have much to learn Massimo, like when to put business ahead of pleasure," my father chortled, returning the spy wear to its leather holster. "One day, this will all be yours," Marco exclaimed, clasping a firm hand on my shoulder, turning me to face him. 

In that moment, time slowed. I suddenly noticed the fine wrinkles that coated my father's aging features. In seconds, it was as though he had aged twenty years. 

The next moment however, went as fast as a speeding bullet. 

A shot rang out around me, followed by an intense pain, unfamiliar to me until now. My father and I both dropped to the ground, dark wine liquid pooling around our bodies. It poured out of a clear wound in my father's chest, mimicking the injury on my stomach. I fought to claim air that evaded me at all costs, my mouth becoming dry and metallic. 

Time slowed and the sound of my own heartbeat boomed deep in my ears, it slowing as well, becoming fewer and farther in between each beat. My father had long fallen unconscious and I was quick to follow in his footsteps, my mind falling into the darkness with one final glance at my dad, knowing it would be the last time I would see him. 

As my body began to shut down, one organ at a time, my mind was last to go, soaring far beyond the clouds. It landed me at the shore of a beautiful island, palms trees surrounding me and swayed with the warm breeze. The crystal water pooled around us, thrashing tides against the sands edge. 

It was her face that I noticed first. The warm breeze whisking dark caramel strands around her perfectly proportioned features. Her large round dark eyes fixed onto me and a slow breathtaking smile lit up the heavens; choirs began singing in harmony around her, welcoming their angel. 

Something in my dark soul awakened at that moment, every fiber in my being craved her. My hand reached up to stroke her silky olive skin, instead streaking dark plasma across her pure white dress. I was dying. This was my heaven, or my hell. I guess it didn't matter either way as the darkness was soon here to claim me once again. 

~

***Authors note

Hey guys! This is just a little something I was working on. Hope you enjoy it.

Stay Stone(d)