Writing Prompt

Growing up in a rough neighborhood, Tony always knew that the mafia had a presence in the area. He watched as his father worked long hours at a local construction company, struggling to make ends meet for his family. It wasn't until Tony's teenage years that he was introduced to the world of organized crime.

One day, while hanging out at a local pizza joint, Tony caught the eye of a mobster named Sal who offered him a job running errands for the family. At first, Tony was hesitant, but the lure of quick cash and the promise of protection from the dangers of the neighborhood were too tempting to resist.

As Tony became more involved with the mafia, he quickly rose through the ranks, proving himself to be a loyal and capable member of the family. He was tasked with collecting debts, delivering messages, and even carrying out the occasional hit.

Despite the danger and moral ambiguity of his work, Tony found himself enjoying the power and respect that came with being a part of the mafia. He had money, connections, and a sense of belonging that he had never felt before. But as time went on, Tony began to question his involvement with the family. He saw the devastation that the mafia wrought on innocent people and realized that he couldn't continue to be a part of it.

In a daring move, Tony decided to turn on the mafia and become an informant for the FBI. It was a risky decision, one that could have cost him his life, but he knew that it was the right thing to do. With his help, the FBI was able to bring down the family and put many of its members behind bars.

After the dust had settled, Tony found himself in witness protection, living a new life under a new identity. He knew that he could never go back to his old life, but he also knew that he had done the right thing. For the first time in a long time, Tony felt like he was truly free.

Sleep with the fishes What are your wishes Just do the dishes He says as she hisses

Don’t touch the gun This isn’t a life of fun Breathing under the sun Curse of the first born son

Living life for death Taking a last breathe Praying to be blessed Not like the rest Tessa🦋

It’s hard being a traitor.

The police said, they will make me a new man. All my crimes will be forgotten. They said, my days of murder would be forgiven, if I became their rat.

And so like the coward I am, I agreed.

Even though I had bathed towns in blood, I didn’t want to clean it up, I just wanted to run away. But running away was expensive, I had to eliminate my ‘family’ first.

First, I had already start with James, who was the Don. You always have to start with the best, to get rid of the worst.

Don was a cunning thug. Always got the young lads, to do his dirty hands. The police knew he was scum, but they couldn’t arrest him without evidence.

He was a cunning old fox.

If only I had taken this fox’s wisdom more seriously.

‘Everyone, i am thankful for coming. I shall retire from my position of Don.’ James softly said, he seemed like a weak grandpa. But his eyes lit up with youthful sneakiness.

‘I would like to give my position to….’

Then he pointed at me.

At m-me? Me, Nelson Charles, who had never been noticed by James Hush, was now in the spotlight.

‘Welcome my son!!!’ James excitedly yells, I reluctantly go up to the stage.

James place his hands on my shoulder snd whispered:

‘Now, how you will escape, you damn informative of a rat…’

Joe never thought that he would ever be in such a odd situation. Since I have been narrorating my little wierd creation, I don’t seem to remember him telling his grade three class on “Carrer Aspriations Day” that he was super psyched to ever find himself blindfolded, bond at his hands and feet, while hanging upsidedown in his uncle’s warehouse on the docks. He is a strange charachter in this little world, but I wouldn’t think him to be of such peculeer and masochistic tendencies. I will admit that I was a bit tipsy on absenth while putting together his mental and intelectual characteristics, so I have myself to blame as he giggles to himself while the creeks in the empty warehouse remind him of a beat he heard on some comedic anime. Poor man is just oblivious to the gavity of any and every situation. Oh, look, a croony! A short stumpy man with sweet beading on his balding head drags a small chair over to where Joe is hanging, “Joey, how many times are we going to have to meet like this?” he say while mildly heaving the chair in place. As he sits he doesn’t have to lean down too far to meet Joe face to face. He let’s out one last deep breath, “What would your motha say,” he gesters to the situation, “to this?” “She’d tell you, ‘You nepolianic-limp dick-snubed nosed-half jacket! You breath smelt better when you smoked!’ is what she might say.” Joe said trying not to giggle, thinking that he nailed his mom’s nagging tone. His smile is met with sharp jab to his gut by a much bigger fellow. “Ionis! Why so violent? My nephew, brother, my nephew.” “Sorry, boss. Old habits.” Ionis says with a smirk. “Uncle Baba, is this about last night? If it is, I can explain.” Joe says while trying to catch his breath. “What? No, this isn’t about… what are you talking about?” “Nothing.” Joe say while straighting up in his reversed vertical position. “What are YOU talking about?” Uncle Baba sighs, “I am going to let you think about it for a sec. Think real hard, boy.” Joe seriously had no idea what particular thing that his beloved uncle might be talking about. With every stupid situation that he found himself in at any given moment (mostly of his own volition), any one of them could have concluded in a judgement like he curently found himself in. For some, he knows that the penalty would most indubidably be a bullet to the head. But still, Joe racked his brain only to be distracted by the tone the warehouse noises were making and what the name of that stupid song was. His uncle stood up, pushed the chair to the side with more ease than it took to drag it before, knelled down to Joe’s ear and creepily whispered, “Georgia, Joe. This is about Georgia.” Joe sighed, “Fuck.” This was one those “bullet to the head” situations. For the first time in his life, Joe could feel the gravity of this situation precisely as he could smell the gun oil. Ionis is pretty anal about keeping his guns clean and up to par. Poor Joe. I’m not sure if he ever felt the bullet going through his head, seeing as how I was never prevy to those designs, but I knwo that he died without crying or begging. He perished like the gangster he always said he was. It’s too bad he never really lived up to his own hype. He lived and died an authentic low-brow piece of shit, just like his mother never wanted him to be but always knew he would be.

There are only two ways out of this business. Die or turn snitch, and I’d rather blow my brains out than go Judas. And so, that’s what I’ve decided to do after this job. The points I’ll score on this one will set up my wife and kids for life. I ain’t letting my kids grow up to see their old man as a fraud, and Julie… she’s had enough drama for a lifetime. It’s what’s best. The family takes care of loyalty.

“Hey Nick! They’re head’in out,” says Jake, “hit the gas.”

The queen pulls behind the van. The side of the van reads A.P.D. Transport. You’d think they be more discreet about moving the incarcerated. Who rides the back of the van? The boss’ son, Tommy Poiro.

We follow him out to the highway, bout 80 miles. The scenery changes from the old concrete jungle to good for nothing woodlands. Cops don’t know how to keep an eye out.

“I’ll signal the others,” says Jake, his cell to his ear.

The van stops by the side of the road, unscheduled. I drive by them.

“Why they stop?” says Jake.

I tell Jake the plan might need changed.

“Nah, turn back. We’ve blocked this 5 mile stretch from two locations. Roadwork signs.”

I make a u-turn and start driving the wrong way, and coming up on the van, stop facing it. One of the cops is out by the back of the van, the other readied a shotgun.

The cop inside plays over the speaker: “Come out with you’re hands up!”

Jake gets out reaching for the sky. “We’re sorry! We thought you needed help!”

I follow after him. Hands high as my head.

“Get down on the ground,” says the speaker.

“Take cover!” yells Jake.

I jump behind the queen, and he joins me in sitting against the trunk. The guy outside fires a shot into the queen’s engine.

We pull glocks from our coats, and return fire. Jake takes out the front right wheel, and the guy outside yells from injury. The man with the shotgun jumps out and runs back. I tell Jake to cover me, and he starts firing.

I walk out and aim for behind the van, and looking behind, see one officer holding the other, he’s dropped the shotgun. Blood runs from the shot guy’s mouth. I pistol whip the unarmed cop. Jake walks up and sees them on the ground.

The bleeder had the keys. Jake opens the van and I step to the side to take a smoke. There were two more officers inside, and they fire the moment they see Jake. He falls to the ground, and I run into the woods for cover. I look out from the bushes and trees to see Tommy. That rat!

Tommy calls from the speaker. “Sorry, but we can’t leave you to be. You’d tell father I turned. I made a deal. Come out and you can be part of it!”

I scream from the bushes: “I ain’t no traitor! Do you know what happens to people that turn on the family? You can’t play with peoples lives!”

“Oh, I’m going to father. And if you don’t come out, I’m gonna say you made a deal. Easier to believe. We all know you want out.”

And now, I need to live. God, I need to get back to Julie and the kids. I need to warn the boss before he falls prey. My reputation would of saved them, but that cheesy rat is gonna put targets on their backs.

Ever since I can remember, my dad has been a criminal working for the Italian mafia. I’ve kept my distance, living with my mom, who divorced him years ago. But my dad has been reaching out to me recently; I’m uneasy with his overtures. I’m meeting him tonight. I thought I’d give him a chance to be a father. He wants to explain things, he says. I fear he wants to recruit me. I have skills, but I don’t want to use them for crime. He is at my door. I let him in, noticing a van across the street. He appears nervous. I give him a beer. I take one as well. He starts telling me he isn’t a criminal or in a gang; that life is behind him. I ask why. “I’m an informant,” he says quietly. I check what is happening outside, intuitively anticipating someone getting out of the van and coming to my door. I rush back to my dad, who is suddenly cocking a handgun. “Run to the bedroom-I’ll handle this!” So I retreat. I hear voices and gunshots, and the sound of stuff being broken. I say a prayer then call 911. The ambulance picks up at least 3 bodies, including my dad. I give my statement to the detective, who confirms my dad’s story.

“NO!!”

“Please, Miss Valentina, we just need a stand-in.”

“I do not want to have anything to do with my brother’s business! I can’t believe you’ve found me. If my brother finds out that you have been harassing me and my family…”

“Please, we will not cause trouble. It was actually your brother, the boss, who had sent us. In fact, your brother is actually about to call you.. right about.. now.”

My phone rang. Dammit.

“Valentina”

“Valentino”

“Sis.”

“Oh don’t you sis me, Tino.”

“Tina, please. We just need a stand-in.”

“Yeah Vincent’s explained. I.. really don’t want anything to do with the family business.”

“Tina, we will offer you protection.”

“Protection I would not need if I wasn’t involved.”

“Please. Just one deal. They need to see my face or your face, no one can tell us apart except Mamma.. or else the deal is off.”

“No!”

“Sis, please. You just need to nod and give the guy an affectionate slap on the face.”

“So why can’t you show your face?”

“Hives.”

“Oh my god, did you have the brodetto at Don’s again?”

“I love it too much.”

“Oh for goodness sakes, Tino, that stock is a lethal cocktail for you, you gotta stop!!”

“An Italian allergic to tomatoes.. I lament my tragic fate.”

“Seriously?! It’s not as bad as having a twin brother as a mobster..!!”

“We’re going to die” Cole said as he paced the small room.

“No we’re not, you’ll probably just lose a hand” I replied, “And can you please sit down”

“How can you be so calm right now?” He practically yelled at me. “We stole a car from a mafia boss!”

Before I could respond the only door to the room opened, and a large man walked in. He looked annoyed and glared at Cole before saying,

“The boss wants to see both of you now” then he turned around and walked out expecting us to follow. I sighed and began to follow when I noticed that Cole had become frozen to his spot. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the clearly terrified man by the arm, and dragged him out.

“You need to do as they say if you really don’t want to die,” I whispered to him.

After a short walk the henchman we were following stopped in front of a large door. He turned to us and said,

“Remember your place, and don’t speak unless you’re spoken to,” though he seemed to be addressing Cole more than me.

He finally turned and opened the door for us to enter. The room was about the size of a hotel conference room, and was decorated like a palace dining room with golds and reds. At the end of the table opposite Cole and I, sat the man in charge. On either side of him stood two of his henchman, wearing the same angered expression as him.

After a few minutes he finally spoke, “How stupid do you think I am?”

“Very” I said lowly, but still loud enough for everyone to hear.

Cole gasped beside me, “S-she means not very…a-actually not at a-all…sir,” he stuttered out quickly.

“Is this because of the car thing?” The man said, still glaring.

Cole became confused and cautiously asked, “The what?, sir”

Before anyone could respond to him I spoke up, “I don’t know why your so against it.”

“So your response is to befriend one of my men, and convince him to steal from me?” He questioned.

In shock that I was yelling at his boss and confusion at the conversation, Cole just stared in silence.

Out of frustration, I yelled “Dad, If you would just let me expla-“

“You’ve crashed three cars in two months, you are not getting another one!” My father interjected,

“And now, because of you, someone has to lose a hand!” He finished yelling at me.

Cole looked at me with wide eyes and finally spoke up, “He’s your father?”

“Not a good one” I responded angrily.

“How could you do that to me? I trusted you!” Cole yelled at me.

“Stop complaining, at least it’s just a hand” I said annoyed, “Plus you shouldn’t trust people so easily.”

After yelling at Cole, I stormed out of the room. Leaving a very bewildered man, and my angry father behind.

The mafia. People hear mafia and they think it’s all killing and dumping bodies in the ocean. Okay so sure there’s some of that. Ya know sometimes you just gotta take care of business and there’s nothing else you can do. My father tired to hide the family business from me and I’m sure it was only to protect me but I was always too curious for my own good. I found out when I was around 12.
I had waited until my father was out “in a meeting” when I finally dared to sneak into his office that he always kept locked unless h was going in or out. At first I didn’t find anything , Just notebooks with numbers and names in it. I thought nothing of it until I saw the newspaper clipping and the “reports”. The newspaper was filled with articles about dead bodies found or people who mysteriously disappeared. I filed though the reports. They were from people my father worked with. They described gruesome scenes and “accidents” they saw. I had lost track of time and didn’t hear my father come home until it was too late. At first he was surprised, then angry. I had never seen him so angry before. He didn’t talk to me for a long time, no one really did.
Then one night- very late my father came to my room. He explained everything to me. He said he wanted to wait until I was older- He didn’t want to think he was a psycho or anything but since I already found out . He answered all my questions and I could tell he no longer was talking to me like a child, he wasn’t going to hide the truth anymore because I would only find it out later.
It took a while to get use to the idea of my family and the the mafia but it was more than just death and kill king. After I found everything my fathered made sure to share everything with me. He didn’t leave any details out, even if I wished he would. He wanted me to know what the family business really meant. It was more than just death and killing. It was about looking out for people, it was about defending the defenseless, it was about protection. It was about putting family first,no matter what. It was our way of life.

Noah slipped into his tiny twin bed and fell into a restless sleep. He had the strangest feeling that someone or something was watching him, and it was very unsettling.

Around two-o-clock in the morning Noah heard a weird clatter. It sounded like metal banging against metal. He also heard pounding footsteps. As the sound grew louder and louder Noah sat up in bed anxiously. “Mom?” he asked. “Dad?” No one responded and the footsteps quickened to a run. Soon Noah saw an unfamiliar woman enter his room with a knife. Before he knew it she was holding the knife to his throat. He gasped and blurted, “Anything! I’ll do anything you want if you don’t kill me!” “Yeah, right,” she replied, “and I’m the queen of England.” “No, I promise! Please! Don’t kill me!” She stared at me for a moment, sizing me up. “Fine. I won’t kill you if you join my gang. If you don’t please me, Ill kill you, your family, and anyone you’re close to.” Noah gulped nervously. He’d do everything possible to save himself, and his family. “Alright.” He said. “Meet tomorrow in the alley between the jewelry shop and the clothing store at noon,” the woman said, and quickly added, “Or else,” waving her knife.

Noah couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. Why would he sleep? He had dug himself in a deep hole that he wasn’t sure he could dig himself out of. Why did he do something so cowardly? And if he failed to fulfill one of the mafias requests,what would be the consequences? Noah did this to save his family, but he wasn’t feeling very heroic at the moment.

The next day, Noah woke with a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was about to do the worst thing he had ever done in his life, at such a young age. If he was arrested, then would the police listen to the truth, the real reason he decided to join the gang? Most likely not, which would put him in deep trouble. Noah’s stepfather thought he was a bad kid, but his mother saw him as a complete angel. If his mother found out what he was doing, he couldn’t bear her disappointment. His troubles weighing heavily on his burdened mind, Noah trudged down the stairs to the kitchen. Upon seeing him, his mother frowned, very concerned. “Are you okay honey?” She asked him. “Yeah mom,” Noah lied. “I’ll make you some pancakes,” she said, her brow still wrinkled with worry. Noah went throughout the next part of his day normally, but he felt anything but normal.

At noon he told his mother he was going on a “walk through the woods” and left to meet with the murderer and her gang. With each step, his guilt increased. When he reached the alley, he saw the same woman with a strange group of people crowding around her. “You’re late,” she said in her guttural, raspy voice. The strange people stared at Noah until he was very uncomfortable, then the woman started to speak. “Noah,” she said. “This is my gang.” Her gang grunted their greetings. There were about ten people in the group. One was tall and bald, with a curly red mustache. Another had brunette, shoulder-length hair with a frightening amount of pimples. But the ones that stood out the most were the identical twins, shaking vigorously at the back of the alleyway. Noah guessed they had been forced into the gang just like he had been. Since I described the gang for all of you readers, now I will describe the murderer. She had short and straight blonde hair, an abundance of freckles, and she was beautiful in a menacing way. “By the way, Noah, my name is Belladonna, and I have an assignment for you. If you fail, too bad, you die. If you succeed, well, I’ll think about giving you a reward.” Noah groaned. He hoped his task would be easy and bloodless. “I want you to kill my mother. She’s highly suspicious of me.” Noah gaped in pure terror at Belladonna. How could the woman be so evil as to ask a 14-year-old boy to kill her mother? At these words, Noah decided the murderer was a soulless monster. But little did he know, Belladonna only asked because it was to painful to do it herself. She still had a speck of kindness.

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