My story doesn't have a happy ending. Fuck, it doesn't have a happy beginning or even a contented middle. It's overall suckish and I hate the fact I feel powerless to stop it. It's like an out of control emotional rollercoaster that just refuses to end. Romeo and Juliet stories don't exist in real life. People from different classes can't actually survive together without one bringing the other down. Habits die hard and faith dies harder. I want you to know one thing. I want you to hate me by the end of this story. I want you to resent me and who I am, to rip me apart in your head and be glad that my ending wasn't great. Because I don't deserve a happy ending, I don't deserve the love and affection that occurs in other stories, because my story isn't like other stories.
As usual, this story begins with a crime scene. The difference, this crime scene is private and protected, there's no media to be found and only two police officers. A graying man stood before the two bodies in front of him, with a grim expression. He was slightly overweight, which starkly contrasted his fit and taller partner. "Well hell...what do we do Perry?" The overweight man stared at his partner. His partner set his lips into a thin line and shook his head. "I don't know White." The crime scene was a mirror image of two other that had occurred in the past month. Either one or two young people was found brutally murdered, signs of overkill evident by the post-mortem stab wounds and gun shots that were clearly fired at point blank range. They couldn't have been older than 20, but the most significant part of the entire description was a piece of information only the police knew. All of these victims had ties to the mob. Not directly involved, but these were all children of known mob members. "How do we handle this? Warn the very people we keep trying to bring down?" Perry was clearly upset at the obvious need to warn the mob of the violence against them. They'd spent years chasing them down and locking people up, and it all seemed futile to just try and protect them now. "Perry." His partner gave him a soft look. "Don't think of it that way. These are their children, the very people they've been trying to keep away from the mob. We can't let people loose children, I mean fuck Perry these kids aren't older than 17!" Perry flinched and nodded, his face paling a shade as he sighed. "The problem is that the mob has a lot of enemies." "But not enough that would be willing to slaughter their children." White had been on the force longer than Perry, and worked in a special division created specifically to go out and catch these fuckers at their best. They'd had a certain degree of success after activity died down when they busted in on a big drug raid. White scratched the back of his head and sighed. "We need to call the FBI. Three victims means this guy is now a serial killer. We have absolutely no leads, and these poor kids won't be able to walk the streets safely without this guy caught." Perry nodded and pulled out his phone, walking away from the scene and requesting the files.
White ran a hand over his face and finally allowed himself a few tears. These kids, he'd known some of them from the time they were small. Sure they had parents in bad places, but a lot of the men he'd met that were stuck in the mob wanted to get out, but couldn't because of their loyalties. They were good men at heart with bad jobs that would send them to hell, but a lot of them pushed their kids away and gave them dreams of better futures away from the influence of such a horrible group. He felt it was his job to protect these kids, and he'd help the FBI in any way he could. However, he glanced at his partner and knew there was one house stop he had to made. Nodding to Perry they both left as the call ended, leaving the crime scene in the hands of others more capable than them. Driving quietly through the dark streets they pulled up to a discreet blue house and got out. Knocking on the door they were answered with a half asleep young woman, messy brown hair hanging in her eyes and shadows underneath the blue orbs. "What?" She yawned and leaned on the door frame. "Where's your father Miri?" She squinted and held up a finger, vanishing into the dark house once more and returning a few minutes later with soft conversation in a singing language between herself and an older man. The older man fixed the police officer with a confused but on guard stare and stood in the doorway, hair a mess and clothed in a tee shirt and lounge pants. "Sì?" Officer Perry pulled the man aside as White stepped into the house and smiled at the young girl. "I haven't seen you in a while." Mirella glanced at the other officer curiously but kept her attention on White. "That's a good thing isn't it?" She smiled tiredly at him and leaned against the wall, one arm behind her head and the other arm wrapped around her waist. "I suppose your right about that, how old are you now?" She laughed, a pretty sound but quiet. "I'm 19 now Officer White, my birthday was last month." She raised her eyebrows with a playful smile. "You missed it!" With a look of mock devestation he pulled off his hat and shook his head. He nearly forgot it was June, and remembered suddenly they were due for a sweltering heat wave in only a few days. "My apologies, I was so busy I must have forgotten." An enraged cry distracted the two from their conversation, Miri's face settling into a troubled look with a deep frown. Her father was locked in furious conversation with the other man, hands dancing around in the air making gestures left and right.
"What's going on?" Her worried gaze turned to White who grimaced and sighed. "We have a serial killer who's murdering children of mob members." Miri's face paled and White gently took hold of her shoulders. "I want you to stay away from the streets, keep inside as much as you can while this is going on. Keep Matthew and Svetlana with you as much as possible." Miri nodded with large frightened eyes, White sighed and called to his partner. With a gesture of farewell to the mob boss and his daughter, he slid into the car and cast the two one last regretful glance. Miri waved at him weakly from the doorway, her father standing behind her with a grim look on his face and his hands clasping her shoulders tightly. As they pulled away the large man pulled his daughter into a hug, and held her as she wept for her fallen friends.