Mikey is forced back into a life he once despised. Takes place in 1930's.
Donna Way was fast asleep when she heard someone banging feverishly on the front door. She glanced over at her husband, Donald, who was still sound asleep. Donna shook her head hoping that the knocking would stop, that they’d just go away but the knocking only grew louder and louder. She knew that this would happen eventually; they lived to dangerous of a life for it not to.
Donna shook Donald’s shoulder saying, “Donald, Donald wake up.”
Donald grunted, “What do you want?”
“Donald there’s someone at the door.” Donna whispered.
Donald sat straight up and listened to the thunderous knocks on the door. He got out of his bed and threw on a robe over his nightgown. “Stay here, no matter what you hear do not come down stairs.” Donald hissed before leaving the room. He grabbed one of his many guns from the cupboard and walked up to the front door.
Donald blindly reached for the doorknob and opened the door. He could not see who the two shadowy figures standing in his doorway were, but a male with a thick Spanish accent said, “Merry Christmas Donald.”
Donald felt a fist collide with his face, and he fell to the floor. The gun that he had been holding slid across the wooden floor. The unknown intruder grabbed Donald by his hair and forced him to his knees. Donald heard the click of a gun.
“Just please let my wife live. She doesn’t need to die. Please.” Donald’s voice was shaky.
“Not one person in your family deserves to live; too much blood is on your families hands.” The man growled and pulled the trigger.
Young Mikey Way stretched his tired arms as he yawned. He locked the front door of the small bookshop that he owned. This year had been tough on him; of course it had been tough on everyone. Mikey was lucky enough to still have a job. Many stores had closed down these past couple years, but not his book store, strangely he was able to rent each month and he hadn’t fallen behind. He’d come close a couple times but was always able to scrape by.
The gas street lights dimly lit the stone sidewalk. He could barely see his own feet. The bitter winter air cut through Mikey like a knife, he rubbed his two hands together and blew into them, trying to keep them warm. His breath was visible and he felt a chill run down his spine. “I really need a new coat” Mikey thought to himself. As much as he loved the one he had, it had patched up holes on the elbows and one of the pockets was ripped off.
Finally he made it to his small one bedroom house, it wasn’t much but it was what Mikey called home. He hung his coat on the rack by the door, and went into the kitchen to make something for dinner. Mikey heard the soft sound of carolers down the street; he had completely forgotten that it was Christmas Eve. Mikey remembered when he was young him and his older brother, Gerard, would try to wait up for Santa Clause, but would always fall asleep before he’d come. Their parent always gave them two dollars to buy whatever they wanted; and “Santa” would bring them each a new toy.
Mikey shook his head, he hadn’t spoke to or seen any of his family for close to four years. Not since they had thrown him out of the house for not joining the family business. Mikey wanted nothing to do with it, he didn’t believe in it in the slightest. His father had been so upset when Mikey said he didn’t want to follow his footsteps, he’d never forget the words Donald had said to him.“You are no son of mine! You are nothing but an ignorant child! Get out of my house and never come back!”
He never did come back, despite the numerous pleads from his brother or mother. Mikey doubted he’d ever be able to forgive his father, and he knew his father would never love him again. Mikey grunted, and started the stove to make some soup for dinner. He flipped through the newspaper as he waited for the water to boil.
Mikey heard numerous taps on the door; he furrowed his brows and set down the paper. He got up and slowly walked over to the door. He opened it slowly and someone quickly rushed past him and into his home.
“Mikey…Mikey have the police contacted you yet?” Mikey knew the voice very well. Gerard.
“No, why…what happened?” Mikey asked, severely confused.
“It’s our parent’s…they’re…they’re gone.” Gerard reported solemnly.
Mikey stumbled into the closest chair with sudden distress. He didn’t know what to feel, one side of him hated his father, however, on the other hand they were his parents; they raised him, cared for him, and no matter the differences between them he still loved them. Mikey tried to form words, to say anything, but nothing escaped his lips.
“I know this will come to as a shock to you but there’s something I need to talk to you about” Gerard stated. Mikey looked up at his older brother. He’d expected tears, weeping; anything to show some compassion, but there was nothing.