My father told me never to go out at night alone, especially after midnight around our city. He told me the reason why he said this was because he didn’t want to hear me crying to him that something horrendous happened to me since there are people who like to come out at night and prey on young, teenaged girls like myself. There are all kinds of criminals here in Gotham that there is bound to be a few sick men who like to have their way with young girls. He also told me this because he simply did not want to hear me if this happened because he could care less. And if that ever did happen, I’m not so sure if they would want to attack or rape the daughter of a powerful mob boss.1
Would anyone dare to touch the daughter of a mob boss that was once very powerful who could kill them for it? But my father wouldn’t do a thing like it because he could care less about me and what happened to me. I’m sort of the daughter that he never wanted. Sometimes, he would have complete disgust towards me. He never looked at me the same way he looked at my older sister Julianni. She was always pampered and never had to lift a finger because she was showered in love by our father. I envied her for these reasons but it was still the same when she moved out. He loved her even when she was killed. I would be constantly compared to her and sometimes he would roughly slap my butt, saying to me, 2
“Come on, Angie, why don’t you be more like Julianni? She’s a great influence on you and a great daughter. She earned everything I gave her so try to be more like her.” He would give me another slap before either he or I walked away. It was hard living under the shadow of my older sister. She was beautiful and smart and always had the guys after her. She had been a hard worker and never disobeyed. Always, Father smothered her in love while I never truly understood what love was. I tried hard to strive to be more like her but I was still pushed away. Because of all of this, I hated her with more than a passion. 3
The murder of my sister was not because of me. I was no where near involved with it nor was I responsible for any part of it. One night about three years ago, she had been shot and killed. Part of me was happy that she was dead. My father, who was devastated by the loss of his beloved daughter, accused me of doing the deed and claimed that I hired someone to kill her. Honestly, I denied his accusions but he refused to believe that what I told was the truth. To him, I killed Julianni so he punished me for it that night. Now, I have a scar on my neck and it hasn’t even started to fade away. At least it doesn’t hurt anymore. I can still remember how bad it felt as the blade cut my skin and dug through it. Blood had been pouring out and I nearly died that night. And if I had died, I guarantee you that my corpse would still be lying in my bedroom. Not even Batman would have come to save me. 4
It was late that night, about 12:47 am. I had just got done seeing a movie at the local movie theater and I was tired but I didn’t have a ride home. My father didn’t allow his men to drive me around and I had no money to take a cab so I had to walk home. I was used to it but what made me uneasy about it was walking past the alley ways. That was where the criminals liked to hide. It was dark which was perfect for them so they could attack you. They liked to wait in the darkness for you. But I haven’t seen that much lately since this district attorney named Harvey Dent began to clean up the city. Perhaps I should thank him for it? 5
I shouldn’t really say that since my father is in the mob. I’m a bit grateful though that he’s doing this because he’s trying to make a difference and to make this city a little better and safer. And besides, I sort of have a small crush on him and I’m nothing like my father or how Julianni was. He planned for me to join his mob. For a man who hates his only, living daughter, he sure does have plans for me. Many times, I said I wanted to spend time with him and he told me that this would be the way but I’m not interested in joining him. Living a life of crime is not how I want to spend my life. 6
I start to pick up the pace as I come across an alley way. This was the same exact spot where my sister was killed. If the person who killed her for being the daughter of Salvatore Maroni then I could be next. Although it’s been three years, I still get a bit paranoid. As I’m half-way past it, someone grabs onto my arm won’t let go as I struggle. Violently, I’m yanked into the alley way. 7
From the light on the light post, I can see that the person is a man dressed in dark clothing. Out of his pocket, he pulls out a sharp, silver switchblade knife. I backed away from him and hit the brick wall. With the knife in hand, he pushes his body up against mine and presses the blade of the knife onto my left cheek. A small flash of pain spreads through my face and I can feel blood gushing out. 8
I used my hands to pound his chest and used my legs to try to kick him. I failed several times because this only provoked him. He was turned on by it. I let out a scream as loud as I can before he clamps a hand over my mouth. 9
“No screaming, little girl. You don’t want someone to hear us having fun, do you?” He snickered as he grabs me as throws me down to the hard ground. He takes off his jacket. Fear takes over me as I think about what he’s going to do to me. He’s going to rape me and then kill me. 10
“Please don’t do this! Just let me go! I promise I won’t tell anyone!” I fearfully cry to him as he jumped on top of me, straddling my legs. The more I cried and screamed out, the angrier he became. He raised his hand to me and backhanded me across the face. 11
“No screaming!” He yelled, reaching for the bottom of my short dress. I kicked him in the groin before he could stick his hands up my dress. Furious, he takes the knife and stabs me in the right shoulder blade and pulls out the knife. I scream out in pain. 12
All of a sudden, a man comes running over to us from the dark end of the alley. He stops short and has lost his breath. “Angie Maroni!” He shouts. 13
The guy on top of me looks confused. “Who?” 14
“She’s Angie Maroni, Sal Maroni’s daughter!” The panting guy exclaimed. The guy on top of me looks down at me and devilishly smiled. 15
“So you’re Sal Maroni’s girl, eh? Even better. Maybe this’ll teach him from ripping me off.” Just as he starts to lift up my dress, a mysterious dark figure came flying in and slammed the guy right off me. I looked carefully as I stood up and saw that this figure had a mask and a cape. It was Batman. I watched as he landed punch after punch into the guy’s face. Relief watched over me as I thought I was saved. I was wrong. 16
The other guy came up from behind me, grabbed me, and stabbed me with a knife. A white hot pain racked throughout my body and as my legs and body went weak, I came crashing down to the ground and darkness consumed me…17
Adding your comment:
