prolouge
Money... Money was the center of the universe since coins were invented. Money has power weather it’s the unlimited power to make or the unlucky power to destroy.
In my family money destroyed. It destroyed everything in its path but that’s only my opinion or at least a part of it. The lack of money in my family killed my mother and drove away my father which left my siblings and I striving for ourselves as young mortals taking comfort in ditches when we found them or rather lucky enough to find them.
My elder brother worked while my eldest sister cared for my other sister and I. “il potere è un distruttore del mondo” My mother used to say. “Italian for power is the destroyer of worlds.” My father called her crazy when ever she said this but I ended up laughing when he lost all of our money over the addiction of gambling. My father was the destroyer my mother talked about I’ve seen it since i was seven and my dad left.
He just left without anything as simple as a goodbye or a hint that we would have to fend for ourselves for the rest of our lives “gli addii sono per i deboli” means ”goodbyes are for the weak.” I read it in a book when i was eleven. I always thought it was useless to me but my brother; Luca; the oldest of my siblings and I said it would explain a bit to us. Disclaimer it didn’t. It just made me wonder more about why he left.
My eldest sister; Chiara was our light as her name says until she started dating John Huso Marais when I was 14. The man who killed many and was almost killed by most. Gangster king aka the don of the Sicily Mafia. My brother made sure we never met but i know more then they think. The man saved my life but i made him promise not to mention the moment to my siblings.
My other elder sister the third in line; Bella was my protector. She and i were the closest until i turned 16 and she left. She was beautiful as she also lived up to her name. She was the only one of my older siblings to go to college,graduate and retrieve success.
She was determined and she loved me more than anyone I remember. My mother died when I was five so I hardly remember her and what I do remember was her as sick as a person could get always asleep or hooked on the shit pills my dad gave her. I knew or, at least now know they wear not for her sickness they were to make her look crazy, like she was sick but in reality my father druging her for 3 years straight was what killed her in the end.
I only realized it years after she died and it almost killed me on the inside even though I knew my family was already broken. I just hadn’t realized how broken. I’ve always been the smarter one in my family or at least I think so.
I remember stuff at weird times. Like when I had my first kiss I remembered my father picking up my brothers 10 year old ass and slamming him against the wall. Yelling at him about losing a fight at school but the funny thing to me was that I was only two at the time, so how did I remember it.
My sister Chiara said that I had Hyperthymesia, she never explained what it was but I believed her enough to search it. Hyperthymesia is a condition that leads people to be able to remember an abnormally large number of their life experiences in vivid detail. Unbelievable I know but its in the facts. Its either that or i’m just hallucinating which would probably make me crazy.
