Page 16 of Mila: The Godfather

I bow my head, my curls falling around my face like a curtain, and whisper. “I missed you… I thought you both forgot about me.”

Kadra sighs. “That’s impossible, Mila. You’re unforgettable.”

I feel her gloved hand grab my chin and tilt my head up so I can look at her, and when I do, my breath hitches. She has bruises on her face. Blue and purple bruises are forming around her left eye and right cheek, and her top lip is split open.

I lift my hand to my chest, where my heart is, and tap three times. I don’t know when exactly I started doing it, but somehow the habit has stuck with me. I only do it when it hurts or when I’m nervous. When my chest aches. My heart.

I do it in moments like this one.

When I was younger, I didn’t understand why my sisters walked funny at times or why they had bruises on their faces and arms, but I do now.

Even when they try to hide it from me.

I feel their pain because, ultimately, I am mostly to blame.

I don’t want them to hurt, but because of my existence and their love for me, they do.

You see… I am not like most people, a fact our father detests. He also has a serious problem with me not responding to my name when he calls it or the fact that my mouth, at times, has a mind of its own. I am different and my father doesn’t like different.

To be truthful, he doesn’t like me.

I never thought or noticed that there was something wrong with me. I am just me, but he didn’t like it.

At first, my sisters believed I was a quirky child because of my limited facial expressions, odd obsessions, and my compulsive need to touch things three times.

As I grew older, I realized that there was something more to me.

I don’t understand emotions very well, or at all at times. It’s difficult for me to decipher sarcasm or other forms of joking. I can’t look someone in the eye for too long before I look away at some other part of their body. Attention makes me nervous, and at times, uncomfortable.

So many things differentiate me from my sister. My parents know this, and instead of helping me find ways to lead a normal life without shame, they decided to treat me as if I didn’t exist. As if I am not their daughter.

As if I am not human.

They hide me away so no one can see that the Parisi family isn’t as perfect as they make it seem. But that’s not the worst part. They punish my sisters if I do something wrong in their eyes.

For example… breathe.

He hits me, too, but not as much as my sisters, something that hurts me more than his fists ever will.

Noticing that I spaced out, I look up at my brave sister and I hug her midsection. “I love you, Sirius.”

It takes Kadra a few seconds to wrap her arms around me. She’s not big on affection like I am, and neither is Arianna, but for me, they try their best. “And I love you, little star.”

Little star.

Both of my sisters call me that, but they’re wrong.

They’re the ones who shine.

My light in the dark.

“Forever?” I hug her tighter as if it’s the last time I’ll get to do it.

“Beyond that.” She whispers harshly, pulling me closer to her.

I close my eyes and let her words wash over me, reminding me that as long as I have them, all will be alright. As long as we have each other, nothing can truly break us.

But something did break us.

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