Feeling broken.
Feeling useless.
I thought that I could just fix myself. But it turns out that I am not strong enough.
And he had to be the one to fix me.
A psychopath...
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"Take this piece of shit away. Oh, and Trevor..." He turns to look at the guy on the ground.
"Clean him up for me, will you?" Trevor smiled in response and dragged the man out of the room. The man started losing it, and it wasn't until Trevor hit him across the head that he finally stopped. I couldn't stop staring at the door where Trevor just left with that hysteric man.
I can't seem to catch my breath. He's a killer. All of them are fucking freakshow killers. And that man...
As I turn my gaze on him, I catch a glimpse of his icy blue eyes looking at me, shadowed by a couple of loose strands of his dark brown hair. He swiftly brushes them back with a swipe of his hand and takes another swig of his drink.
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I can't seem to describe him, other than like, maybe a don or something. But that is fucking hilarious! Why the hell would a group like that be in the small back room of a run-down club like Blackwing? I mean this is New York, but stuff like that must be underground or something... People like me wouldn't see stuff like this... Right?
As I lose myself in the chaos of my stupid shit brain, the silence slowly dissipates in the room. Everyone just turns back to look at him like this was like a fucking Sunday church service. Everyone waits as he finishes his drink. Seeming satisfied with everyone's response, he grabs another drink from the table next to him and raises it in the air. Almost immediately, the whole room has drinks raised high into the air.
"Now, my colleagues. A toast to what we work so hard for. To pure power. To the fucking unbreakable power of my mafia. Black's mafia,"
"Power of the Black mafia!" Everyone shouts back, and with that, they all down their drinks. I still feel so baffled from what just happened right in front of me in a matter of seconds. They are acting like this is completely normal to them.
Wait a goddamn minute! He said "Black's mafia"... So that dipshit thought was actually true? How cheesy can you actually get, that is just stupid shit that I was honestly joking about! Hold up though... it makes sense in why they all act like killing someone is so nonchalant to them? Looking over at where he was sitting, I really started to look at him. At first, I thought he was just some guy who had money... But this guy is more than that. His hands... they have probably killed so many people. And those eyes... those dark and brilliant blue eyes have been soaked in so much blood and violence.
Feeling my stare, he turns to face me. The pure energy in his eyes makes me forget to breathe. It feels like he was staring right through me, seeing all of what I have seen. But I can't seem to look away. There was something strangely beautiful about his eyes, the way they looked brighter in the light, and the hidden colours that seem to flow around his iris. He is mesmerizing.
Realizing that I have been staring for way too far long, I stare at this first thing I could think of, which in this case is looking down at my hands like a stupid idiot. I feel the blood rush up to my cheeks. What am I thinking? Nothing is beautiful or mesmerizing about him. He is just a piece of shit. A shit like him. Just like my step-father...
