15-year-old Josephine Parker just wanted to seek shelter in the old warehouse. Instead, she unwillingly overheard something she shouldn't have and therefore crosses the path of the Marini family. A family known for making people 'gone' and whose b...
I used to like autumn. I loved playing with the colorful leaves, I loved drinking hot chocolate and I loved the sunset with its colors. But now autumn had a completely new meaning for me: it meant bad weather, short days and, above all, cold nights. This was bad for me on many levels because the bad weather meant everything was always wet and people were in a worse mood. Besides, it wasn't easy to find a suitable place to sleep before, but now it was even harder.This would be my third winter on the road if I survived that long. The first winter was okay because it stayed warm for a long time and Crazy Carl was with me. The second winter was harsh, there was very little food other than the food at St. Benedict Church and this one seemed to be getting cold again.
"Your sleeping place should do four things: 1. It must be safe. 2. It must offer you a place where you cannot be easily found. 3. You must be able to escape at any time. 4. It must protect you from the weather." Those were Carls' rules. Well, at least some of them, because he had a lot of rules. Many many. But so far they had protected me so I didn't question them. It had already started to freeze the last few nights and the best places for us homeless people were already occupied. A shelter wasn't an option because: as soon as they realised my actual age they would have to inform CPS. It wouldn't take them long to find out who I was and I would never go back to that hell. I would rather die. Which is what I'll do if I don't find a safe place to sleep soon.
Dark thoughts tried to creep into my mind and it annoyed me that I even let them. I shook my head angrily. It was just after 8 p.m. and the clook started ticking. The streets slowly became empty. All that remained were the shadows of the city (that's how Crazy Carl called us homeless people) and those who didn't had to be afraid of the dark. However, I was certainly afraid of them so I made my way to one of the old warehouses south of our town. The former industrial area had been abandoned for decades and, apart from a few stupid teenagers, rarely anyone of a sane mind would go there. Not without reason: there happend to be some "incidents" from time to time. Incidents where a lot of blood was found but no one who owned it and we all knew who to blame. Yet, we were smart enough to not say it out loud.
But even so it was still safer than a bridge or the park at this time of year. My backpack still felt wet from the recent rain and my sleeping bag would certainly be too. But in the backpack were the remains of a discarded sandwich that I had found today; it was basically just waiting to be eaten. Just the thought of it made my stomach rumble. It was the first time since three days that I had found something to eat and still after two and a half years I hadn't get used to this constant feeling of hunger. On the other hand, the rain meant there was enough drinking water. I guess I should be thankful for that.
There was a specific warehouse in my mind; one which had many corridors and small niches. There were plenty of opportunities to hide and also to quickly disappear if necessary. Assuming of course you knew your way around there which I luckily did. It took me half an hour to get there and when I arrived it started to rain again. Maybe the last few days were trying to send me a sign and I was just too blind to see it. Maybe fate just wanted to mess me up a bit. Or maybe I was just unlucky. However, if I had known what was going to happen I would have gladly accepted any rain or frost and turned back. Unfortunately things in life didn't work that way.
It was maybe an hour later, I was still hanging up my few belongings to dry, when I first heard a sound other than the rain. It sounded too distant to make out what it was, but definitely close enough to make my heart skip a beat. I waited motionless for a whole minute but I couldn't hear anything else. I tiredly rubbed my eyes and started emptying my backpack again.
Bang.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Someone screamed in pain for help and I hastily hid in the shadows of the wall. Shit, what should I be doing? "Just mind your own business.", Carl had said and considering that there was someone there with a gun clearly ready to shoot someone else, that should have been reason enough. There was no way I was going to help that man.
Another, angrier, scream sounded but stopped midways during another shot.
"You better stop your fucking screaming and start telling me what I need to know. Nobody but me will be able to help anyway and right now I'm feeling extremely unhelpful," said a male voice that sounded far too relaxed considering the fact that he had already killed at least one person and was in the process of killing a second one to kill. My heart started racing again and my breathing became faster and faster. Shit, shit, shit. My first instinct was to run away, but then I would definitely be seen and I would have to leave everything behind. The risk was far too high. Another noise sounded and the injured man cried out in even more pain than before. Whatever the other person just had done, it definitely wasn't intended to help the other person.
"Please, I-I-I told you I didn't know n-n-things about this. Really!" I could hear his fear and I totally understand that because the panic inside me was growing with every second. 'Please let it be over quickly.', I thought as my hand gripped the patron saint tightly on my chain, 'Please holy Labre, please don't let this be my last day!' I had a troubled relationship with religion but in my desperation I was willing to believe in anything in order to protect myself.
"If you don't know anything, why should I help you? It would be so much easier for me to let you lay here and watch you die slowly and yet so easily. I wouldn't have to do anything but stand here." said the man coldly and almost as if he was bored. "But I'm not a bad person. I just want to help you help us."
"Please Mr- Mr. Marini, I know- AHHHH!" My body reacted faster than my head. Before I really understood what the name meant, my hands had let go of the chain and pressed firmly against my mouth. Everything in me wanted to scream, only pure instinct prevented me from actually doing so. 'I am so done.' I pressed myself against the wall so hard, hoping to disappear into it. It wasn't said for nothing that one could escape death twice but not the Marini family. I didn't knew much about the family, except that the eldest, Vito Marini, ran the business and the second eldest, Domenico Marini, was known to love work like this. Rumors say that there were three other brothers but that could just be a horror story.
"Well, that's really unfortunate, but then there's nothing you can do." Domenico Marini appeared to be walking across the hall. "Maybe I made a mistake and confused Mrs. with Mr.." He sounded so convincingly concerned that for a brief moment I hoped it was all just a misunderstanding and completely missed the threat in his words. Bute the other man didn't.
"No, not Amira, she-she's pregnant! She's innocent! She doesn't know anything!" he howled. "You can't hurt her!"
Mr. Marini sighed loudly. "I shouldn't do a lot of things and yet we're both standing here tonight. Although, in your case, lying. We'll make a deal: you tell me what I want to know and I'll tell my people that Amira won't have her baby cut out today and can eat the paella in peace that she cooked especially for your anniversary today. Does that sound fair?" The man no longer had a chance to answer because in the corridor that led to my hiding place, a stone or something similar fell from the ceiling and hit the floor loudly. Then all went quiet for a moment.
"Watch him," Mr. Marini ordered and I could hear him slowly coming towards me. If he found me here, I would be dead the moment he saw me. There were to be no witnesses. If I ran away he would find me and I would be dead too. Either way, it would end. I couldn't think clearly and yet my head was suddenly empty. So empty that my instinct to flee could kicked in and I started to ran without consciously controlling it.
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