Chapter 13

Aliyana 6 years ago The brush in my hand is like a wand, it takes me to places, filled with color and spaces that are far away from here. A place I can create with a dip of color and a glide of my hand. Usually, my places of choice are twisted. The hells of my mind, finally leaving its confines. This one is different. There is no murder, death, betrayal, or heartache in this project. This beauty is not about the darkness that lingers in my head but by the mind's ability to keep it at bay. Magic Magic is potent, and all that I desire shall come true. In this painting, a happy ending can come in the form of what I decide. I am the creator now, and I am free to create the end I choose. I have a choice as I paint my creation into life. If only my reality bore similarities to this art piece. 'Why do you spend so much time here? It is so dusty. Icky. Have you thought about painting in the garden like a normal painter?" The female voice whines from the chair in front of me as I dip my brush in the yellow and brown pallet wobbling on the old wooden stool next to my board. 'Why do you insist on following me when I want to be left alone?" She's like a pesticide that won't go away. 'I have my reasons. I saw your sister last week. She was in Seattle, what's her name? She isn't very friendly." I press my lips together as I focus on the trees I am currently filling. I know all about my sisters not so friendly demeanor. And it has nothing to do with the brown-haired Barbie sitting in the old wooden chair in the center of the attic, disturbing my peace. 'Guilia." She is quiet after I answer, and I get to lose myself in my work, finishing the forest. I start with the eyes of the wolves. My attention to detail is not where I want it to be. Mrs. Lana said it will come in time. Now I am just finding my style. The colors I have used are dark, and the yellow from the leaves is a bit too light. I am going to have to change it once I am done with the wolves. 'You don't talk very often, do you?" I jump at the sound of her voice right behind me, and my paintbrush goes across the canvas ruining the lake. I've spent a week perfecting. 'What the hell is your problem, Elisa? Why are you even here? Your house is next door, not here. I don't even like you. I would think considering the excellent grades you are constantly bragging about, you'd have figured it out by now," I snap at her. Those big light brown eyes of hers widen at my outburst. I usually keep my temper in check. But this girl is making it really hard since she came home last week. My school is closing only on Friday, and ordinarily, like her, I returned home before the last day, but Ren and Gabriel have a big game tomorrow, and I want to stay. Why she thought to follow me up here in an antic filled with junk and dust, I have no idea. I stare at her when she remains standing there, looking at me. Her hair is brown and curly, she is gorgeous and a pure Italian princess. We are so different, I don't understand her desire to spend time with me. I like my space, she craves attention. 'My cousins aren't very nice to you, are they?" I frown at the question that isn't really a question. It is a fact. The Russo boys weren't exactly familiar with the word ‘nice.' Turning to my ruined canvas, I say nothing as I survey the damage, seeing it isn't as bad as I thought. It will take me a few hours to fix but nothing major. 'Sorry, I frightened you." There it is again, she is so nice, and it makes me seem like a horrible person because I am not 'nice.' I am my father's daughter, there is nothing warm about me besides the blood in my veins. Even my hands remain cold throughout the year. 'It's okay." I should apologize, but I will never say sorry to a Russo, no matter how big her smile is. She nods her head as if understanding something I have no clue about and walks back to her chair, sitting down. Her light perfume hits my nose for a hundred time since she decided to cramp my style. She is the only clean ‘piece' in the room. I wonder again the reason she is choosing to sit with me here. I know it isn't for my chirpy personality. I have zero to none. I've been saving my happy go lucky charm for the days I'd have to start ‘Adulting'. Papa says smiling is a chore at times, and I understand what he means. The attic is filled with boxes. I am confident there are rats in here as well as other living creatures. I've seen and heard a few on a number of occasions. Elisa Russo does not strike me for the tomboy rat chasing kind. She's the more dolls and dress-up type of girl who goes to the toy store on weekends to purchase new Barbie clothes. Not saying I am the rat chasing type, or the doll type either. The attic, however, doesn't faze me, nor do the creatures living in it. The spider's webs and the dusty furniture and boxes made the place creepy at night, but nothing about it has sent me running out of here. It's the one place I found in this house where I could paint and not worry about being disturbed. Well, ‘didn't' worry being the operative word as now I've been troubled by a living Barbie doll. The door opens, and I glare at another intruder. Sheesh, can't a girl get a break? 'Have a bath Yana, we going on a little trip. You might want to carry a jacket with you, it's going to be a long night." Ren rushes in, dictating without looking away from his phone and his moving fingers. 'Also, have you spoken to that Christy girl? Mero won't stop nagging." I clear my throat. My face, hands, clothes, and shoes are colored in paint. My hair is on top of my head with a paintbrush stuck in the center, holding the thick mass up. I look like a mess. Also, I am not in the mood to clean up and go out. Nor am I in the mood to talk to the female version of Hitler, Christy Perkins. I ignore the last part as I have already explained to Mero that I will not be hooking him up with our school's most irritant girl. Not only was she a staunch Catholic, but Mero is also an Atheist and a Made-Man. He already got made, and like the rest of us stuck in this City that kept us as a Prisoner, his hands were filled with blood. He was a sinner, and the ring on his finger proved it. 'Why don't you go without me? I need to finish my painting, and I still have an assignment to get done. It's Math." Now he chooses to look up, his face is still red from the skin peel he had yesterday. I spent three hours with him while he was getting it done. My Papa's orders. His grey, brownish eyes are heavy from lack of sleep. His thin body drowning in the jeans he insists needs to be a size bigger than his waistline and the XL white Levi tee that hangs just above his knees. Ren has no fashion sense. Elisa giggles when she glances at him, probably thinking the same thing I am. 'Hello, Russo." That is all the time he will give her because she is a Russo. If she believes I am mean, she is yet to find out the meaning of it when she meets Michel. 'Hi, Lorenzo. I am going to ah, leave you two alone. Thanks for letting me sit with you, Aliyana." She gets up and walks herself out the door. Her bright floral dress and the pink belt around her waist is a girly piece of clothing. Something Guilia would wear. Something I would never even think about putting close to my body. See, the opposite. 'Fraternizing with the enemy now, Yana? I leave you alone for three hours, and you decide to bring a Russo to your secret place?" His voice is cracking; therefore, his snipe doesn't sound as threatening as it once did. I roll my eyes as I grab a small brush from the plastic cup of water. My attention goes back to my canvas as I dip the brush into the blue palette. 'Not that it is any of your business, but she found it on her own. She's a nuisance but harmless," I inform him as he shuts the door and shuffles closer. 'None of them are harmless, Yana. Elisa might be living with one of us but doesn't make her family." 'It also doesn't make her an enemy. Sometimes it is nice having a girl to talk to." This is all lies. I don't like Elisa, and we hardly speak. She's the one who does most of the talking. I am the one who usually listens and answers when she asks a simple and sometimes stupid question. But Ren thinks he is the boss of me, and I am in no mood to be bossed around today, hence why I tell him jack shit. He is a Catelli, I am a Capello, our family is both powerful. 'We should go," He says, and I look up at him as he examines the rusty attic with mild distaste. 'I don't wanna go." 'Really, Yana? So, you don't want to find out where your sister is?" He stands right behind my painting, his eyes wide and face red as he waits patiently for my answer with that arrogance a Catelli is known for. If I was able to freeze into one spot and completely blow up from disbelief, I would have been frozen or scattered in bits and pieces on the floor by now. My smile is slow and hesitant. 'How?" I ask him as the brush remains in my hand, painting air as I look at him disbelieving. 'Well, that is what we need to find out. Gabriel was the one who made the call to a guy named Sal, and Sal knew someone who does things like that. Mr. Kent was the name given. His son is attending our school part-time for extra cred, guys' name is Dexter. Michel said guy seemed cool when he asked him to ask his dad to meet us." My smile is huge, as I put my brush into the water. Ren shakes his head and rolls his eyes to the ceiling. '30 minutes Yana." He leaves me in the room as I stare at my impression of a midsummer dream. The painting needs a lot more work if I am going to graduate from my first year of art class, but I know I can get it done. Seeing my sister, finding her, and just spending time with her is something I won't get another chance to do this year. I am thirteen, I know the laws we are breaking by doing this. My sister is a member of the Bratva, an enemy. Papa said that an enemy is an enemy. The Famiglia and the Bratva are just that, sworn enemies. A few months ago, Michel, Gabriel, Ren, Mero, and I were at the park not too far from here. Gabriel asked me what I wanted to do once I got older, seeing as he was writing an essay about ambition, I felt obliged to answer. I could have said a lot of things. A painter was one of the many but really, I just wanted to find my sister. I wanted to know if she's alive. She is the other one like me. A half-blood. It was silly at the time to confess it, and I left it at that, but Gabriel obviously didn't. He is the eldest by 7 months and the broodiest amongst the 5 of us. He is also the rightful leader amongst the lot of us. But telling Ren as such won't be the smartest thing to do. We've been stuck together for the last year and a half. I had school most of the days, and it was far from the boy's high school, which meant I didn't spend much time with them. Next year that will change.