Betrayal (The Informers)
You broke the code and you expect us to forgive you? You knew that what happens in the Mafia stays in the Mafia. But you fucked up by sharing our secrets with other collectives and we’ve found you Maureen and now there’s nowhere to hide.
I have many questions, but I can’t forgive your transgressions. You are a snitch, a coward who can’t face consequences. So, there are only two ways out of it: Either you let us cut your tongue out brutally, or you humble yourself by accepting all the penances we impose, even if it means stripping yourself naked, and parading yourself in a show of utter self-loathing. So, it’s your choice Maureen.
You betrayed the Mafia and we don’t take such things lightly. Maybe in your self-deluded world you sit on a throne and give into frivolous pursuits. But that’s delusion and I hope you’ve understood by now. We know where you are Maureen and apologies won’t suffice. It’s your choice to prostrate and beg for forgiveness which you may or may not receive or to act haughtily until we come for you.
See, we’re not here to fuck around. Shit’s about to get real, Maureen. You mess with one of us, you get the whole family involved. And we are. You can run, you can start a new page, but we’ve found you anyway. You knew the rules: once you join the Mafia, you’re always a part of us… and then to go running off to some other collective? No. That’s not how this works. I hope you’re ready for some pain, my dear. Because we found you.
The mafia is family, you knew that coming into this. Maybe you forgot, but that’s okay, we’ll remind you to the point where you remember every second that you walk this Earth. Even in the afterlife you’ll remember what the mafia does to those who betray them. Because that’s what family does, they take care of each other, one way or another. Ink and secrets are stronger than blood. You should remember that, in case I have the unfortunate pleasure of draining some of it from you body. Maybe forgiveness is freely given where you come from, discipline comes in the form of a time out and being forced to write apology letters. But that’s not how the real world works.
That’s okay, we’ll give you the gift of teaching you what happens when you misbehave. That’s what family does, dear Maureen, it’s how you know they care. See, we don’t want to kill you or even maim you in a way that really matters. That’s mercy, darling, and we’re giving it to you because we love you. You get to live after this, live and make better decisions, the ones that come from union, not selfishness, not whatever the other fucking collectives offered you. Deliver your penance and we’ll take you back into our loving arms and watch after you in turns with such devotion you’ll feel our gaze deep in your bones until your dying breath.
Reparation (The Enforcers)
How did we find out? Is that what you really want to ask, as pain and embarrassment seep from the corners of your eyes? We found you at your laptop, Maureen, out in the open. We tapped into your conversation, found those hidden phrases that meant nothing and everything as you revealed every last one of our secrets to your new ‘family’ without regard for our feelings. We’ll show you feelings. We’ll demonstrate in the most transparent of ways how deep those feelings for family run as we pull your words, a litany of apology, one by one, from your trembling lips. Yes, our boss may be reluctant to bring the pain. Not us. The Enforcers revel in it–each cry of mercy is music to our unforgiving ears. We will take what is ours and inter it with your oeuvre. We’ll make sure that it feeds our muses. And we will grow that dark verse and prose in your memory.
And so we begin. A question for a question, an excuse for an excuse. Each word counts, darling, make sure you stay within the limit. What did you reveal? Our secret language, the verbs and adjectives that bound us together. What will we extract beyond your words? Slow down, sweetheart. You’ll get to the good part too soon, and we like to draw it out. Perhaps it’s pertinent to play along. We’ll let you know when we’re good and ready, and like the Venetian merchant, make the extraction swiftly and exactly.
You tell us you felt alone with us–that excuse falls on deaf ears. For in our family, we are never alone–that is our bond. You claim momentary lapse in judgement, multiple counts–that is just what we want to hear. Tallies are our totems, we stack them high and mighty. Each word counts, did you hear us? We swallow them whole like succubae, then regurgitate them to forge something new and shiny, cuttingly compelling. All we want are your words, and when we bleed you dry of them, when you are cleansed of betrayal, we will gather you into our familial embrace, and all will be forgiven.
Assimilation (The Boss)
I see you now, upset and crying, you’ve been grilled just about enough. I tried to tell them all to see reason, give you a break, set you free, but they want me to be some ruthless boss, that crushes bones, says things calmly, so calmly that shivers run down your spine, and you become afraid of the next few moments, where fate would decide what became of you, but I knew you before all of this. I know sometimes you run away, hide and isolate, seek other friends cause you’re scared of commitment, being in one collective only, I get it; I really do, but I feel the pressure to stand for the values created through time and effort, blood sweat and tears.
If I detract from our oaths and codes, what does that make me look like? Sure, rules can be bent and broken, but not in a family where ink in is ink out, and I can’t stress enough that you leaving devastated all of us, now anger and rage is taking over. Not only are you in another collective, you told them our business, our family affairs, you told them our deepest and darkest secrets, and that is a crime that I can’t forgive.
And now I’m more and more convinced, to show you how wrong you have been, but seeing you here, forlorn and sad, I want just one hug, cause that’s just the type of person I am.
©️ The Literati Mafia – 2018