1 Jinx Blackwell

My name is Jinx Blackwell, a normal 16 year old boy. Well almost normal. I was secretly a mafia prince, heir to the Abyss mafia. In addition, I had a reputation in this town as a bad boy.

I had midnight black hair and I had 3 piercings on my left ear and 1 on right. I had a tattoo on my back which read, 'Abyss' in fancy lettering.

Today I was wearing a black leather jacket and fingerless gloves.

Currently, I was tapping my pen on my desk, bored as fuck.

How the hell do people pay attention in class?

Listening to Mr. Ken's annoying ass voice talking about something called the quadratic formula, I soon got a major headache. Great.

I sighed and got up from my seat and walked right out of the class, my two best friends following behind me. The teacher did not stop us as he already knew trying to stop us was futile.

"So what are we doing Jinx?" Cameron asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders.

"Hey, let's go to Midnight Flare." Tyson suggested.

I smirked.

"Let's do it. Are you in Ty?" I asked.

Tyson laughed.

"You know it."

We walked out of the school and made our way to the parking lot.

I got on my dark red motorcycle while Tyson and Cameron also got onto theirs. Midnight Flare was a night club located about 15 minutes away from our high school. After arriving, we entered the night club.

The music was turned on to the max and bodies were dancing and some were even grinding on each other.

"Hey Donatello!" I yelled, waving at a tall and handsome man.

Donatello was the owner of the night club. He was 29 years old and had reddish hair that curled at the ends. He smiled at me.

"Hey Jinx!" He replied.

I scowled but we both knew I didn't mean it.

Donatello was the one to save me from Bobby. Bobby was my real dad and he was abusive. He always beat me, telling me it was my fault that my mother died. My mother had died giving birth to me.

Bobby had abused me until I was about 13 years old. At that point in time, I had decided to run away. I was heavily injured that day from the beating that Bobby inflicted on me. I remember passing out due to the pain. I had woken up to see Donatello. He had treated my injuries himself as he had a feeling that I did not want to go to the hospital to have my wounds treated by the medical staff.

I stayed with him for about two weeks before he convinced me to go into the foster care system. A month later I was adopted by an old man named Dylan Blackwell.

Dylan Blackwell was 70 years old and had no living relatives. He was a kind old man and I have grown to view him as my father. We had a great relationship. He understood why I always got myself into trouble and fights. I never started a fight myself. If people were to leave me alone, I wouldn't even get into trouble. However, people always try to mess with me.

I met Donatello a year later when I got into some deep shit with some drug lord. Donatello saved me and I found out that Donatello was the Don of the most feared mafia, the Abyss mafia.

Donatello was the owner of the Midnight Flare, a night club as cover up. I ended up joining Abyss at 14 years old and Donatello chose me as his heir because he did not have any relatives or children just like my adoptive father.

Tyson and Cameron were also part of the mafia long before I had even joined. They soon became my best friends and they were chosen to serve me as my right hand men. It just worked out somehow. Maybe it was due to the fact that we were all the same age and had the same mindset despite the difference in personality and attitudes.

"We have some business to do," I tell Donatello, pointing towards the top floor. Donatello nodded at us.

Tyson, Cameron and I took the elevator to the 5th floor.

I sat down on the royal blue couch and crossed my leg over the other. I grabbed some red wine from a waitress, Tyson and Cameron's falling suit. I leaned back on the couch and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cameron lighting a cigarette from Tyson.

I put down my wine glass and snatched the now lit cigarette from Tyson.

"No more smoking, it is bad for your health." I said.

Tyson grinned sheepishly.

"You promised me." I added.

"Okay, okay, fine, you hypocrite!" Tyson exclaimed.

"Drinking is also bad for your health Jinx!" Cameron exclaimed.

I raised my eyebrow.

"Fine, just one cigarette then." I said as I handed Tyson's cigarette back.

"You are no fun at all Jinx!" Tyson replied.

I shook my head at their antics.

After waiting for 2 minutes, I heard frantic footsteps make their way towards me.

I grinned.

"Now then, let's get started boys."

Our personal guards came up with a fat man in their grasp.

The man was old and greasy and was gasping for air.

"So," I began, "Where did you hide my money?"

The man stared up at me with a frightened expression.

"I don't have it, I swear!"

My eyes darkened.

I pulled out my pistol and pointed it towards the man.

"Please don't shoot! I will tell you right now! Please!"

I smirked.

"Then get talking then." I said as I played with the pistol in my hand.

After questioning that poor man and making him tell us where he hid our money, we finally exited the Midnight Flare.

I bid them farewell.

I hopped on my motorcycle and made my way home.

I frowned when I saw my adoptive father's pull up truck in the driveway. He should be at work right now. I parked my motorcycle and walked towards my door. I unlocked the door and my frown deepened when I realized the lights were off.

Something was not right.

I wearily walked into my hose and my eyes widened in shock.

"Father?"

My father was laying face down in a pool of blood. His white shirt was dyed blood red. I rolled him over and gasped when I saw the knife wound. It looked like someone stabbed him about 5 times.

He was murdered.

My eyes darkened. Did a rival mafia kill him? Fuck.

Just when I was about to get up, I heard my front door slam open loudly.

Hurried footsteps approached me and I was met with two police officers, their guns drawn.

"Put your hands up!" One of the officers yelled.

"Why? What did I do?"

They did not answer me and instead locked the handcuffs around my wrists.

"Get in the car, you are in some serious trouble, young man." One of the police officers said.

20 minutes later, I was staring face to face with the investigator.

"Did you murder your adoptive father?"

"No."

"All the evidence points towards you though." The investigator pointed out.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Evidence?"

"A knife was found near the body and it had your DNA on it."

"What!?" I exclaimed.

"Plus you have no alibi."

Well fuck. I can't tell him that I was with Tyson and Cameron! If I do, he is going to question what we were doing and I know for certain we are going to get busted because Cameron can't lie for shit.

If I were to tell him that, I would be basically announcing to the world that I was the Mafia Prince.

I was thrown out of my thoughts by the investigator's voice.

"Listen here boy. Denying that you killed your father is just making things harder than it has to be. We all know you murder him."

My eyes darkened.

"I. Did. Not. Kill. Him." I said each word carefully, staring at his eyes.

"Sure you didn't." The investigator said sarcastically.

I clenched my fist.

"Have you ever heard of innocent until proven guilty?" I questioned.

He ignored me and got up from his seat.

"I'll be back soon."

I rubbed my forehead because I was beginning to get a headache.

That night I slept in the jail cell and the next day I made my appearance in court.

"20 years in prison for the murder of Dylan Blackwell." The judge stated.

Well shit. These motherfuckers.

"Or you have another choice. Doctor James if you would?" The judge said.

A man with light brown hair and light blue eyes came into the room. He looked to be about 27 years old and he had black glasses. The man was about 6 inches shorter than my staggering height of 6'2". He was wearing a long white doctor coat and he smiled kindly at me.

"Hello, I am Doctor James." He said as he reached his hand out for me to shake.

I left him hanging however he did not seem to mind.

"I have discussed this with the judge and I have an opportunity for you Jinx." Doctor James said.

I raised my eyebrow.

Doctor James reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a flyer. He then handed the flyer to me and I briefly skimmed over it.

"Instead of going to prison for 20 years, you will be given the choice to attend Ashwood Institute for Troubled Individuals instead." Doctor James said while lifting his black glasses that was beginning to slide down.

"Ashwood Institute for Troubled Individuals?" I questioned.

"Ashwood Institute is located in California and was founded 5 years ago. It admits boys and girls from the age of 14 to 22 years old. Each year the Institute admits around 200 new students. When parents or students choose to attend the school, the parents are signing off their custody to the school. The students can come visit their family during spring or summer break."

"Furthermore, The Institute is basically a specialized high school and university for troubled individuals who are deemed dangerous and unfit to be released into the public. Every student that is admitted to the Institute has committed some sort of crime and about 75 percent of the student body has some sort of psychological disorder. Regardless, everyone needs to see the therapist once a week and take their meds if need be." He said.

I frowned. The more he explained Ashwood Institute to me, the more I did not want to go.

Doctor James continued to speak.

"The high school and university are combined together into one huge campus. The students live on campus in their dorms by themselves. Most people don't have roommates unless they selected the apartment style dorm in which they would share the apartment style dorm with 8 other people of the same gender. The purpose of the Institute is to help troubled individuals and reintroduce them into society." Doctor James stated.

"I don't need help!" I yelled with a sharp glare towards Doctor James.

"I'm being blunt here, Jinx. It's either Ashwood or prison, you decide." He said with a resolved expression.

I bit my lip. He had a point there. 20 years in prison for a murder I did not commit or attend Ashwood for 6 years.

"Fine." I spat out bitterly. "I'll attend Ashwood."