The Mafia Lord Won't Leave Me Alone

They killed him. He's dead.

This was just an illusion. He's not real. Camellia reminded herself as she watched her Father sing her a birthday song. Her cake was sitting on the table with the candles still lit.

“Happy birthday, my little angel,” her father ended with the biggest smile on his face. “Make a wish.”

Camellia couldn't help the tears rolling down her eyes. All she wanted to wish for was impossible. She wanted to wish for him to stay with her forever. To never leave her alone in this cruel world.

But it was impossible. They had already killed him.

“C'mon, darling. What are you waiting for? Make a wish.” Her father urged her, still wearing the biggest smile on his face.

“I wish you would never leave me, Father.” She finally said, crying her aching heart out. She wanted to hold on to him, but she was scared he'd vanish. Just seeing his face one last time was more than enough.

“But of course, darling. I'm always going to be here with you. Where would I go?” His smile was static now. Like he was put on pause. And soon his frame began vanishing slowly. Slowly.

“Father!” She cried out, trying to hold on to him. But he was already gone.

Her eyes flickered open, hitting the plain ceiling. She felt the tears that had been rolling down her eyes. She quickly looked around the room. It was empty.

The beeping machine made it obvious she was in a hospital. But how did she get here? Right. She must have fainted when she heard the news. Still, who brought her here?

She had no one. No friends. No acquaintances. No family. They already killed him. Left him to drown in the deepest part of a river. The police pulled out his corpse yesterday.

Her birthday was two days ago. As usual, she'd waited for her father to come spend the day with her. Her birthdays and Christmas were the only days she got to spend with her father ever since she was a kid.

Camellia didn't have the rosy, flowery childhood. She grew up in the most dysfunctional setting: a toxic, impoverished, high-crime-rate little town, an absent mother, a partially absent father, a grumpy grandma.

She didn't grow up experiencing the good stuff. But somehow she loved her life. She was eager, determined to make the most of it. And to God, she always looked forward to seeing her Father on her birthdays.

But this year's birthday was different. He didn't call. And he didn't show up. She waited all day in tears and almost began feeling resentful towards him for not coming.

She slept off waiting and woke up to the incessant buzzing phone. The call that literally just ruined her life.

She could still recall every word.

“We found your father's body…”

Camellia lost consciousness on the spot. Opening her eyes now in a hospital was both confusing and unsettling.

Who brought me here? The question stayed in her mind.

The door opened, and a nurse walked in. “Oh, hello, dear.”

“Hello.” Camellia was still filled with confusion. “What am I doing here?”

“You were brought here because you fainted.” She explained, checking my vitals. “I noticed you were running low on sugar. And you've been very stressed lately. Other than that, you're good.”

Camellia wasn't listening. Her mind was running wild. She needed to settle the questions bugging her.

“Who brought me here?”

“Oh, some men. They're waiting outside.”

“Some men?” Camellia's confusion increased. “Who are they?”

“Uh, they said they were friends of your father.”

Friends of her father? Her father never told her he had any friends.

“Can I see them?”

“Sure. I'll send them right in. Also, you're recovered enough to be discharged. Your bills have already been cleared. So feel free to leave anytime.”

“Who cleared my bills?”

“The men.” She replied, gave another professional smile before leaving the room.

Within a minute, the door opened, and a group of men walked in. Camellia sat up straight, watching all four men as they approached her with a certain nervousness.

She could read their body language. But then it didn't make sense. Why did they seem so nervous around her? Perhaps, did they have something to do with her father's death? Did they know something?

“You're friends of my father?” She asked in a careful tone.

“Yes. We were friends…” one of them said with shaky laughter. The other one nudged him immediately, and he went silent.

“Not exactly friends. Just acquaintances.” The second one corrected.

“Co-workers.” The third one added, and all of them nodded.

Camellia was more confused now than ever. Why were they acting this way? Were they close to her father or not? Did they know him or not?

And wait, did they say, co-workers?

“Where did my father work?” Because, believe it or not, she didn't know. Not that she didn't ask. But her father was a walking secret who never told her anything. Not even why he couldn't live with her as normal parents should.

“The Big T industries. We were all just underground workers. Nothing important.”

“The Big T? Isn't that the biggest textile company in the country?”

“Yes, it is.”

Camellia had a lot of questions but couldn't ask them. They were all over the place. She needed time to figure out what to ask and what not to ask.

But first, “Where's my father's body?”

“We already called the funeral home. He's being taken to the cemetery. We came here to get you.” One of them replied.

“We brought you an outfit. You should change.” Another one of them replied, placing the wrapped clothes on the bed.

“And we had your grandma taken to a special care home. You don't need to look after her anymore.”

Staring at the outfit, Camellia was back to bawling her eyes out. If someone had ever told her she'd be wearing a mourning outfit for her father days after her birthday, she wouldn't have believed it.

If someone had told her he'd leave like this, she'd have fought the hell out of the person for making such a bad joke.

But right now, it is happening. Her father was really gone. He really did leave her. She was really all alone now in this world.

“But I'm just 22…” Camellia burst into tears, facepalming herself. “I'm just 22. Why? What am I supposed to do alone?”