Page 6 of Promise to Break

One of my teachers, Maverick Hope, is the reason I like to get up each morning. He's my photography teacher, and he always tells me I'm a natural. He's good on the eyes, too, and I know for a fact that a lot of the girls took this class just to be close to him. I, however, am here because I like the aspect of discovering things while making the moments stop in time.

Mr. Hope was a war photographer prior to this job, and when I heard he was teaching this class, I signed up without much thought. But then, this isn't the only part of journalism that I enjoy.

I love to write about what I discover. The truth is important to me, maybe because no one saw the true abuse my sister and I endured, all of it rooted in the lies wrapped within my father's job.

Mr. Hope uncovered a lot of scandals in his prior work. He was telling the harsh truth to the point that he ruined the lives of four politicians who deserved it. Well, actually, the demolishment of their lives was self-inflicted. Mr. Hope just made sure they paid for their crimes.

"Earth to Mari, my Mar. What were you thinking about?" My best and only friend in this god-forsaken place, Raven, is a crazy sunshine. The little princess of the New York mafia. The only good part of the mafia, as I see it. She's the direct cousin of Santino and his devil of a brother. Although I am not thinking about him at all.

Until he makes you. The voice inside my head reminds me. The voice that sounds just like a little gremlin with horns—the one that likes to torture me with her musings and tell me how I really feel.

Fuck her. Fuck him, fuck everyone.

"Mar, did he do something again?" Raven asks, pulling me back to the present.

"Not yet." Because we both know he will, but telling her that is useless because, just like me, she has her own tormentor. At least he doesn't use puppets to do the job for him like mine does.

"I was just thinking I'd add some Aqua Tefana to my next cake, and maybe Lord Emanuel the Sixteenth will stop screaming in my face with his spit. I hate that man."

"Isn't Aqua Tefana the poison that's killed a lot of abusive men?"

"Exactly. I'll prepare it for the lord and the crazy mafia deviants, and all our problems will be null."

"From prison?" she asks with a laugh.

"Who's going to tell them? I won't." Intending to give her my "don't mess with me" glare, I look up at her, but we both end up bursting out in giggles.

I never had someone I could smile and laugh so much with until Raven, not even with my sister. And I didn't have this with Serena because we had to live a day at a time, making sure we didn't die before the next. Survival was a big chore for both of us.

Today, Raven added some pink and orange clip extensions to her radiant blonde hair. How someone named Raven ended up as a natural blonde is beyond me. She looks like one of those Victoria Secret models, with her long legs, perfect C cup, blue penetrating gaze, and perfect hair.

We're known as the two weird outcast bombshells of this place. The only nonsense in that moniker is that I know I'm no more than savagely beautiful by societal norms.

Where I can see myself for who I am, Raven thinks she's ugly because of some words that were said to her again and again. I know the power words hold on us better than most, so I do all in my power to make her see how stunning and attractive she truly is.

"The pink looks so good on you," I tell her.

Raven touches the strands of fake hair and smiles. She likes the goth look, but since she has to play the part of a mafia princess, she uses fake hair clips to satiate her thirst for the fashion she prefers. Today, she chose some blue lipstick that looks just right on her.

"How was your class today?" Raven does this a lot. She changes the subject whenever I give her a compliment. I still do it, anyway.

My best friend chose art and economics, so we don't share many classes, besides she is the same age as her devil of a cousin. She's the best artist in this entire establishment and a wiz with math. Her last painting looks like a man created between splotches of color. Her teachers are in awe of all she does, and Raven is much more likable than I am. She's kind, funny, and full of smiles. It's like the sun is part of her personality. However, she chose to be an outcast for reasons I don't really understand. The assholes here worship her for her talent and mimic her style while aspiring to her mafia status. Yet, Raven doesn't want any of that attention.

"My baking class was fine. I thought my chocolate mousse was good, but our lord said it was too stiff."

A pair of big, round eyes meet me with the excitement of a child. "Did you save me some of its goodness?"

I pull a small plastic cup out of the box I'm holding and hand it to her. She doesn't even wait for the spoon I brought for her as she licks the top like ice cream. Swallowing, she groans loudly, causing all the students passing by to look our way. "OMG, Mari. This is decadent. Now give me that spoon."

I hold back a laugh as I hand it over. "So, how was your day? Did the numbers behave themselves?"

Her tongue darts inside the cup, trying to lick it with no decorum whatsoever. "The class was fine. I got an A-plus on my assignment. Today, we acted as accountants, and Professor Libya had us hide illegal money. I wonder what the world would think if they knew what we are studying here." Raven looks like she's contemplating telling someone about this place.

I shrug. "Probably nothing. For a revolution to happen, you need a lot more than knowing some rich kids are learning how to steal for a living."

"Yeah, you're probably right." She exhales as if she was hoping to hear a different answer.

"Did someone get jail time?" I ask.

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