The Four Mafia Men and Their Prize by M C

Fresh air. The smell of pine, citrus and fresh leaves just consume my every cell forcing my lungs to expand and inhale the glorious scents. It’s refreshing, too bad I can’t enjoy it as I frantically look around searching the garden around me. I quickly whip my head to both sides looking to see if those big burly men that wear all black with the guns strapped to their shoulders saw me scurry from the trellis the balcony that connected to the luxurious room I called my prison cell.

The cool night air does nothing for my nerves as my heartbeat starts to increase. I wait patiently counting to 5. This is it. This is my chance. If I fail, I doubt they will ever let me see the sun again for an awfully long time. I will not be bound to that bed any longer. I can’t be their queen. 5….4…3…2….1!

I quickly dash across the vast open gardens. The silver glow of the crescent moon reflects off the neatly just trimmed grass and hedges. The smell of it just being cut this morning still lingers in the air mixed with the rose bushes that line the walking paths. I just need to get to the tree line. The forest is thick and should hopefully be my salvation. The sound of chirping crickets are all the sounds I hear amongst the rapid beats of my own heart and the soft thudding of my feet along the ground.

At the furthest edge of the garden is the bench under the big Magnolia tree that they would allow me to sit and read on the good days. It was the only place I ever found some semblance of peace. The quiet serenades of nature would help transport my mind to the imaginary places of my books and allow me to revel in the beauty of the literature and forget why I was there, in this house, with those men.

at the house. Big mistake. Standing on my balcony, illuminated by the moon of the sky and the harsh bright light of the room behind

watching me in silence. Even though I was on the far side of the garden and the darkness of the sky blocked out their stern gazes, I could still make out the challenge in their features. They are daring me to take another step. I take a quick breath, lower my head like I have done before giving them the impression that I am once again submitting to them. But this time, not a chance! I look up and stick my tongue out, raise

my name a few more times, slowly fading in the distance as I pick up speed. It’s so dark under the canopy of these trees. I stumble into fallen branches and hear the crunch of twigs and leaves beneath my feet. A few scrapes liter my legs and arms. My chest is becoming heavy as I try to push oxygen in my screaming lungs. Every muscle is burning, but I

into the ground. Ouch. I take a moment to look behind me.

now and you will only get

trying not to make any sounds. Once at the tree I pull my knees to my chest, cover my m*uth with my cut-up hands and try to breathe as slowly as I can to bring down my racing heart. If I move, they will

ARE IN BIG TROUBLE!!…. COME. OUT. NOW!” F*ck. This is