He coughed lying on his cot and gulped the saliva that came up his cancerous throat.

“Dad...” Michael whimpered holding his father’s nervy brittle hand that he once knew could break down bricks of steel with a single blow.

The old man spoke coarsely.

"The most raw purpose of life, Michael… is to protect the ones you love."

"As head of this family, it falls upon you to do that. Anything that your heart might desire should be for their betterment. Power, Money, Respect... Everything.”

Michael nodded solemnly with his head bent. Tears flowed down his perfectly sculpted cheeks, which he didn’t want to wipe off by letting go of his father’s hand.

"You want to move up in the world ? You do it with your family around you. Harsh winters and hellfire will always await us on this path we’ve chosen, Michael. Guide your family through it. Be their strength and make them your strength. Remember, It takes gods to defeat a family bound by love…" he paused and shot a worried glance at the shadows that were lurking outside the glass door before continuing with a dying whisper “...and a family that is bound by money or power rather than love... is no family at all”

#Mafia

A little speck of light illuminated the dark woods I was lost in, calling my name out in the most sweetest of voices. “Follow me, I will guide you home”, it said. Scared of the sudden hope, like a fool, I concealed myself further into the ominous blackness that engulfed me, contemplating the light’s nature. After what seemed like eternity, when I mustered up enough courage to stretch my hand out to the silver light, it scattered away in search of a more worthy trusting hand, as I stood in the darkness, clueless if another speck of light would ever show up again calling name, to guide me home.