Cosa Nostra (Eevee & Tweety)

In the past she might have hopped out of bed and ran straight to her mother's side. She might have leaped into her warm loving arms and thrown her skinny arms around her neck and pressed her cheek to her mother's. They might have sat down at her bedside and discussed their plans together while doing each other's hair and nails. In those days, they often woke up as much as two hours early for work and school, just so they had plenty of time together. Those days were long gone.

Carmela rolled over slowly and sat up. She hung her feet over the edge of the bed and sat there rubbing her eyes. She looked up groggily and wondered what mommy was doing now? She was usually gone before Carmela even woke up. Her lip started to quiver as she remembered all the hugs and kisses she would have gotten just a couple short years ago. She reached into the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out an old photo of her mother, before she had evolved. As soon as she laid eyes on her mother's smiling face she burst into tears. She dropped the photo back into the drawer and ran into her bathroom. She stood over the sink and breathed heavily until she was under control.

She brushed her teeth with her cool new Mewtwo shaped toothbrush. She ran a comb through her hair but did not bother to style it. She had very little interest in her looks lately. She walked out of her room, in no hurry to get anywhere. Slowly she made her way to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She stared at the food for a long time but eventually just grabbed a bottle of water and sat down at the table. She did not drink it. She just stared into it. She felt so...confused.

She strained her little mind, trying to remember what it was that she had done to make her mommy hate her so much. Maybe, it was because when those bad men had attacked and made mommy change, Carmela had just hid under the bed and cried the whole time. Mommy must think she is just a little coward. She was probably right. Now that she thought about it, this was all Carmela's fault.

She looked up at the clock on the microwave. Time to go to school. In fact she was already going to be late. She did not get up however. She simply stared into the unopened water bottle. Not moving. Not caring.

Annalisa
"Go for the kill. Don't hesitate."

"As you wish."

The woman played the tones, the words through her head again and again. She had no problems with a kill. She hadn't had problems with a kill. What her problem had become, was this growing incompleteness that settle in her stomach. Something had been wrong for many months and many nights. Her daughter was slowly become less of a disturbance and more of a curiosity. Perhaps she would be more useful if the mafia made her work. She would learn plenty of discipline in the future with such experience.

Carmela would be such a wonderful daughter if she could kill. Maybe all Lisa needed to do was encourage her to shed blood for her home, her family. Perhaps then she would grow into a powerful ninetales, readying to attack with psychic and fire moves.

A shiver went down Anna's spine. Her daughter could slaughter her mercilessly. The woman wasn't afraid though. The day Carmela becomes strong enough to kill her own mother will be the day she is most proud of the nuisance that she has to take care of.

The woman looked around, her gazed falling on her cozy little apartment like home as she walked, blood staining her white dress over the years. She glanced at her hands to see they, too, were stained with crimson. Beauty is an illusion. Just as death brings the truth of immortality. She thought as she opened the door to see her little girl sitting at the table with a blank expression.

She raised an eyebrow and said, "If you plan on gaining knowledge from the plastic, you are mistaken, Carmela." Annalisa patted her daughter on the back. "Get to school before you end up late." She commented as she pulled the white waist band tightly to secure it. Only "special" people ever had the pleasure of gazing upon her backside. Being special isn't always something one wants to achieve.