Erika's Great Idea

Erika has an idea...or so she thinks.

Erika pucked up her spoon and hungrily slurped up the Ramen, the warm, brothy soup warming up her insides more than the fire. Also, the Kyri girl was looking at her like she was mental, but that was nothing. The girl was wearing an Abercrombie & Fitch jacket and what looked to be American Eagle shorts- nothing that would last on the streets. Erika set her bowl down and stared at Kyri. "So tell me about yourself," she asked, trying to keep her voice below the level she used when talking to her neighbors- the other hobos.

Kryi stood up and walkled to a window, staring out silently at the traffic and the gloomy sky.

"Are you going to talk? I mean, eh, if you wanna live on the streets, you've gotta know how to talk, whom to talk with, when to talk, and more importantly, when to shut up. Otherwise," Erika chuckled, the memories of the time she served with the Mafia coming back. "You're dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yeah, love, dinner.  I learned that the hard way. Nearly being killed by the PM does that to you."

"The PM?" Erika could clearly see that the girl was becoming more confused by the moment.

She laughed. "The Pittsburgh Mafia. Trust me, you don't want to mess with them. I barely walked out of there alive. Bunch of sex-crazed Italians, they are."

Erika could now see the girl's eyes enlarge and pop out of her head. "You escaped the mafia?"

She smirked, remembering the feeling of the great escape she had made a few years ago with her mother. It had been the only time she could remember her mother being truely happy. "Yes, kid. I escaped them. It was bloody hardm as hell, too."

The Kyri girl closed her eyes and whispered something that Erika could barely pick up. Astonished, Erika looked at Kyri ever more intently and indeed discovered that her features closely matched that of Marion Vittali, the PM's head. Erika couldn't believe it. All her life she and her mother had been running from the mafia, but now, the mafia had come to her. The b******s! Only they would know that she would run to the Salvation Army on a rainy day. Erika slipped her hand into her jean pocket, where there was an Italian pocket knife, bloodthirsty and waiting for a kill. "You wouldn't happen to be one of Marion's daughters...?"

Kyri's eyes flew open and tears welled up in the girl's eyes. "I'm his grandaughter. And I hate that man." Venom dripped through her voice.

Erika couldn't believe it. "You're the granddaughter of the most filthy, f*****g stinking rich of all the gangsters in Pittsburgh, and you hate him? Please, love, please. Spare me the pleasure of knowing the kids of Marion hate him just as much as I do."

"He tried to get me married. To a drug lord. In CLEAVELAND!" Her eyes now looked wild, and Erika could sense that something terrible had happened to the girl.

"You can't be serious, right? Eh, mum knew Marion well, and even he wouldn't stoop that low. Who was the drug lord? Carver? Jamison? Alvertez?"

"Alvertez." she wispered, breaking down into tears.

Reviews

[Vannah]

wow....creepy...