Anthony Donati's young life was doomed from the start. He grew up in an Italian mafia family and was used to seeing death by the age of 10. He was the black sheep of the family. His sister Molly was the favorite, and his older brother Archie bullied him. His father beat him senseless, and his mother wasn't there half of the time.
His family called him horrible, horrible things. The only one who was nice to him was his sister, Molly. Anthony believed that his sister was a heaven-sent angel in their family of demons, there to protect him when things got too hard to handle by himself.
Anthony's father Henry called him names ever since he caught his son trying on one of his sister's dresses when he thought he was alone.
Anthony looked at himself in the mirror in a pink fluffy dress and thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He thought he looked a lot like his sister. He loved his sister. He thought she'd appreciate having someone to play dress up with now. But as soon as his father saw him through the doorway, his fun was over.
"Anthony!" Henry screamed. Anthony flinched at the sound of his father's booming voice. "What the hell are you doing? Is that your sister's dress?"
"Yes." Anthony's voice was so soft it sounded like a whisper.
"Why the fuck are you wearing your sister's dress? You're a boy! You're not supposed to be wearing dresses!" Henry stomped towards his shaking son. "I knew there was something wrong with you! I swear, I'm fucking disowning you!" He gripped the dress in his hands and shook Anthony out of it. He threw it across the room. He got closer his whimpering son on the floor. "If I catch you doing anything like this again, you're out of this house, you understand?"
Anthony nodded, tears in his eyes. His frowning father turned and left the room.
Anthony's sister, Molly walked into the room as soon as their father left. "Hi, Tony!" That was a nickname his sister called him. She walked towards the bed that Anthony was sitting on. "Is everything okay? Dad looks pretty upset. Did something happen?" Molly sat on the bed next to her brother.
"No... No, nothing happened," Anthony lied.
"Are you sure? I heard yelling-"
"I said I'm okay!" Anthony yelled.
"Okay... jeez... you don't have to tell me." The two were silent for a while. Then Molly noticed something out of the corner of her eye. "Wait." She got up and picked up the dress her father threw on the floor. "Is this my dress? What is it doing on the floor?"
Anthony buried his face in his knees.
"Wait, Tony... were you... wearing my dress?" Molly asked.
"Yes, okay? I was. And dad saw and got mad at me for it."
"Oh..."
They sat in silence for a few seconds.
"Well, I bet you were pretty!" Molly said. "I bet it looked better on you than it ever did on me. And I always wanted someone to play dress up with! Our brother is a butt. He never wants to play with me." Anthony laughed at that.
"Come here," Molly gestured for her brother to follow her to the mirror. When he was in front of her mirror, she put her dress over his head. "Pretty!" she said. "But something's missing." She looked around her room then spotted some pink heels that would go with the dress. "Perfect!" She grabbed the shoes and gave them to her brother. He put them on and grabbed her shoulder to steady himself. "You look perfect!" Molly said. Anthony looked at himself in the mirror and actually liked what he saw.