Sitting in his comfortable oak desk, Alonzo began losing his concentration. There was still many-a-things to do. However, Alonzo found that he was losing focus. He opened the ancient-wooden window to let some air in... and a funky smell out. Alonzo chuckled and got the keys out of his breast pocket for the small drawer beneath the main desk which had a padlock connected to the keyhole. Within, the drawer was all of Alonzo's dearest and closest things within from which he has encountered and overcome in his life. Pictures of his mother, father, brothers and sisters. Aswell as his father and grand-father's journals going further and further which had been passed on for years and years. Generations to generations. All the way to the start of his bloodline. Which surpassed the beginning era of the different mafioso organisations... now known as families. He gently opened the drawer and peered inside. At the far corner of the dusty drawer was a book. Ofcourse, there were many books inside the drawer. However, something made this book stand out. Was it the angle it was resting at different to the others, not really. Was the book shaped in anyway different to the othes, not particularly. It was this set of questions which triggered Alonzo to pick up the book and hold it within his firm hands. He looked at the title and it read .. Alfonsiosi de franchisco. In neat yet elegant italic writing. There was a small pattern coming off the name and Alonzo immediately began to get interested in this book. Alonzo, had read almost all the journals of his former ancestors and learnt from their mistakes to get to where he is now. He gently opened the delicate book and turned to the first page.

Living in a tough neighbourhood it isn't easy and wasn't easy. Shooting's were happening so frequently the police weren't bothered anymore and no-one paid anymore attention to what was happening. Surely the shooter had a reason. It was either for drug money, dis-honesty or a sloppy mistake. It was the Irish mafia that ran this part of town, extorting all of the businesses and those that didn't kick-up their dues were, well.. you know. Taken for a drive around the park. My father owned one of these businesses yet he paid his dues on time, everyweek to the same person. In return he was given protection. No-one that had an extorted business was to be touched if they paid their dues. Business was getting difficult and people began going to the new shop across the road. Not many people came to Joey de franchisco's grocery store anymore. Then one day, my little brother Joetino get extremely ill. We took him to the hospital and he passed away on the hospital bed 11:21 pm. I'll never forget that moment. Mum was crying so hard her eyes began to get red swollen. You can tell my father wanted to release his emotions yet he wanted to keep his manly figure at bay. He wanted to keep us strong. He crouched down and looked into my eyes. His deep-blue eyes, looked lost. There was no sense of location within them. Mum, wanted to have a proper funeral for Joetino and a proper funeral meant money. A lot of it. My father went over to the local bank and withdrew all he had saved up to pay the funeral fees. He paid the coroner to take care of the rest.

 A few days later a screech of cars at the middle of the night woke me up. It was then followed with a loud BANG of the door and heard it collapse to the floor. Voices of men drowned the hallways, footsteps of their leather d the loafers echoed around the house. I jumped out of bed, holding a metal baseball bat. I was wearing nothing but a vest and boxers but that didn't matter at the moment. I peered through the door and counted three of them holding handguns. There was probably more down-stairs. One of them was walking towards my room. I hid behind my door and waited for him to come in. As soon as he did I slammed the door shut holding the bat in the air and smashed down as hard as I could. The sound of a crushed skull vibrated along my bat all the way to my fingertips. Blood splattered around the room redocrating my walls. Blood went on me but I didn't care. I continued hitting him with my bat until I could no longer bare the sight. I was surprised how the rest of the other men didn't hear what happened. I dropped the bat and picked up the man's gun. I held it at my side, just like father taught me with my index finger resting on the trigger and my thumb ready to pull on the safety. I slowly opened the door again and saw that the men were beginning to enter my parent's room. What these men didn't know was that my father had a shotgun and a tommy gun in his room for an emergency. This was more than an emergency. As soon as they opened the door I heard a ripple of shots fired. A DOOM! DOOM! DOOM! from the shotgun. And Fi-Ti-Ti-Ti-Ti-Ti-Ti from the tommy-gun. Two of them dropped but one of them had super-human reflexes and dove for cover against the wall. This was my chance. I levelled the gun at the man's head, pulled the safety and fired. SPLAT! The man dropped to the floor and I saw my father check that they were all gone. He sprinted towards me and I sprinted towards him. I wanted to tell him everything. Then I saw my mother lying on the floor. He saw that I saw and he told me to ignore it for now. I wasn't listening. I wanted to run towards her. I wanted to save her. I wanted to do something. All of a sudden my eyes blurred and tears began to roll down my eyes. One by one. Then gradually increasing in-tone with my heartbeat. My father picked me up with one arm and flung me on to his shoulder. My eyes still fixated on my mother's dead . He ran down the stairs holding me in one hand and his tommy-gun in the other. He then put me down at the bottom of the steps. And grabbed me by the shoulders. He looked at me in eyes again yet I didn't see anything. I was still in shock. My father lifted his left hand in the air and swooshed down which sent the force from his hand colliding on to my cheek and sending my head flying in the other direction. Whatever,  was in my dad's hand worked. I was back to being alert. My father smiled and stood back up and quietly told me to follow him. I followed his instructions and did as he said. He carried on walking to the kitchen which led to the garden and I figured that that was our next destination. I ran infront of my father and opened the door. He wanted to shout at me but a bunch of hand-signals was all he could produce. I opened the door for him but he told me to go ahead. That was when I heard the sound of a gunshot. The sound of .44 magnum snub nose. I turned around and saw my father drop to the floor with a man behind him. The man had a scar on his face which ran along from the tip of his right eye to the tip of his bottom lip. He also had a green glove and green handkerchief which was the family's colour. The Irish Bobby Zee's family. These were the bastards that took my parent's life. And for what? He began walking towards me and I tried firing but nothing was happening. I threw the gun at him but he caught it and threw it away like it was child's play.
"Your father should have paid on time. He knew the consequences. Come back to me when your older. I might have something lined up for you. Haha"
I looked at him with disgust and swore on my family's life that i'll be back when i'm older.

Irish mafia baby!!! XD

Magneto laughs to himself...