To Whom it May Concern,

If you are reading this letter I am sorry that you have had the unfortunate privilege to know me and what my family has done. I now know the horrors of the life my father lives many believe that I am the shied away and innocent girl who didn't know of her 'Daddy’s' sins, which are all lies.

I know. I know of the deep running lies, the hard core druggies and the barbaric murders. How could I not know, people don't pay attention to the silent ones. I know my brothers are in the 'family business' as enforcers, I had even fallen in love with one for their friends. Stupid, of course, falling for the quiet bad boy who has committed more crimes than I've read romance novels.

His tanned skin that was covered in ink graffiti, beautiful artwork that added a harsh edge to the smooth skin. A fit, tall body that held a head that focused on very few things, a simplistically complicated mind that is understood by few and feared by many. I can remember his large hands playing with the strands of my red dyed hair, a rough touch that was only gentle when he was with me, hands that had committed many sins in his twenty years of life. His eyes shined a chocolaty brown, a warm color that could turn into a sharp knife when pissed off. A Brazilian born body that was overfilled with secrets and confusion that even I could not completely unfold. Matthews was his name, a man that was born in a harsh life with a violent past that gave him the opportunity to work for my father, protecting his assets and enforcing payments from the people of the drug ridden town, but if anyone read this all this knowledge is already there, so no need to explain the basics of Canton.

You may know how the crime city runs, but not many know of the events that lead to Matt's 'termination'. My father, Marco Ambrosino, is a man of power, one who lives off of peoples fear and addictions. He has no respect for anyone, not even my late mother or his own children. He is a control freak that believes that you should shoot first and ask questions later. One who locks his only daughter in a tower as if some precious princess who has so much innocence and nativity that she thinks of him as some hero, a king to a mighty kingdom.

So to find out his innocent girl was hitting her rebelling age made him watch her closer, even though all the rebelling that he could have seen was my bright dyed hair, a red that worked with my tanned skin, bright brown eyes that are experienced in the art of camouflage, I mean no one saw the sadness, or they just didn't care enough to worry about me. I lived in a house with heavy Italian accents, immigrants from my home land, the place I was born. A strict household where there are eyes always watching you, but me and Matt would escaped the glares to secret places that no one would ever find.

But, when people go looking even the most hidden places can be found, disrupting the happy peace we had built over the month, shattering our happiness as we were pulled apart and dragged to the cold place I had the unfortunate luxury of calling home. The tall mansion is a cream and has a grand building, resembling the white house in America. But it seemed cold and distant as I was carried by enforcers, the strong men immune to the thrashing I was inflicting on them in my desperate attempt to escape. I screamed at them, my voice carried into the silent air, a rough voice calling my name. I went silent though as I roughly hit the pavement in front of the majestic stairs, little pieces of gravel digging into my skin, a grunt leaving me at the quick drop.

My father stood there, his thick body dressed in a silk suit, a face with wrinkles and reducing hairline, but what had gotten to me was his eyes, eyes that had always shined a warm hazel to me are now a cold black, anger was coursing through him and there was no way for him to calm down right now. And I knew the consequences would bring pain, just not the way I originally thought.

I stupidly believed that he would send Matt away or keep a tighter lock on me, he would not just let go one of his best enforcers. But I was wrong, a gun was in his hand, the sun glinting off of it, how I had only noticed it when he raised it surprises me, I should have looked, I should have stopped him.

But no, the gun was raised and pointed at Matt, my eyes wide as I flashed my head to the side, catching Matt looking over at me as the gun boomed. And I cried, the bullet piercing his forehead, knocking his head back.

I sat there, watching the light leave the eyes of the one man I had ever loved. The man who has had a rough life and deserved something more. And then I sat and watched him slump to the ground like a cold sack of rocks, leaving the world for being with the woman he loved.

And he was gone then, by the man who was suppose to accept me and my decisions, to love me unconditionally. Yet, he took me from the scene and locked me away from the outside, leaving me to my self deteriorating thoughts.

So this is my decision, to leave the world and join Matt in the after life. To live and love without restrictions, the one place my father cannot reach me. And now you know my decision for death, a decision for peace as there is no escape. And now, I leave you to ignore or mourn my death, though to mourn a life that never truly lived is pointless. So move on and forget me, live on and if you can, escape.

Escape the drug wars and the violence if you can, believe me it never ends happily.

Goodbye Forever,

Rozalia Ambrosino