Fugitive Angel

Chapter One

I've always wanted to experience that feeling with a person that shows you that they are the one for you. You know, you look into their coloured eyes and then you immediately know that they are the person you should stick by until your dying day. It gives you those butterflies in your stomach, and it makes your heart want to melt away into nothing. I want to have that feeling. I want to know what it is like to be totally in love with someone, to be able to hold their hand and kiss their lips whenever you so desire. To me, that was the best feeling in the world for a person. Although, I had never felt it strong enough to pose as a viable source for that information, but I knew that it must feel amazing. The rush of it all, the excitement, showing your alive and well. I wanted it.

Coffee spills on my kitchen table when I reach for the Italian dictionary behind it and tip the mug over. I sigh in frustration and get up to get a paper towel. The coffee has made its way onto the tiled floor and I find myself being glad for it not being carpet. That would have been a bitch to clean up. I drag the paper towel across the table and floor, letting the hot coffee stain my hands as I cleaned. I threw the towels in the garbage as my uncle makes his way out of his bedroom, adjusting his clerical collar as he walked out. He looks at his aged face in the mirror and smiles at me kindly through the glass. I smile back and pour him a cup of coffee, placing it on the table for him when he is ready to sit down. He thanks me and sees the dictionary that is newly stained on the table, he rolls his eyes and chuckles.

"Those dictionaries will do you no good, my Dear. I will teach you Italian while you are here." He says. I smiled at him but shook my head to say no. I had been staying with him in Rome for the school year so I could take a course in religious studies at the Vatican. It was an absolute honor to be able to take a class there, and I was ecstatic when he said I could stay with him for the year. The only problem was that I didn't know a word of Italian. I had been reading that dictionary for three hours a day for the two weeks that I had been here. I knew enough to not look like an idiot, but not enough to thrive here for an entire year. It was hilariously ironic that I come from an all Italian family but I barely understand the language. I wasn't born here, I was raised in upstate New York with my mother and father, along with my older sister.

"No, you are too busy at the Vatican to bother yourself with teaching me. I can do it on my own, I have progressed substantially since I first arrived here. If I can't get most of it by the end of this month I will ask for your assistance." I replied. I give him his plate of breakfast containing bacon, eggs, and toast. He thanks me for the meal and this is my que to get dressed and ready for class. My uncle wasn't teaching me for the class, it was a different man there named Father Ferruccio Bandini. He was an equally as kind man as my uncle Umberto Fiorenzo, but I knew him much less.

"Speaking of such, I must go. I will see you there, Auralia. Do not be late, my child, I know of your lack of punctuality." He says as he grabs his jacket, but doesn't put it on, and kisses the top of my head before stepping out the door. He is right, I need to leave before I'm late again. Father Ferruccio was usually pretty lenient when it came to my poor attendence, but that didn't mean I should take it for granted and come on my own time. So, I sit myself down comfortably on my Vespa and make my way to the Vatican half an hour away. I listen to music with my headphones on the way there, listening to Shiver by Coldplay as I drive. Not many people know I listen to Coldplay, and the ones who do tease me for it. I don't know why, I quite like them. I suppose I'll never know. I change the song when I stop to The Paris Swingbox and continue to drive. I let the warm, fall air make its way through my long, blonde hair and I smile at the euphoric feeling it gives me. I love smiling, and I try to do it as much as I can. Smiling was the number one way to keep yourself happy, so why not do it as much as possible?

I park the Vespa in the lot and grab my bag before running through the many halls to the classroom. Some that knew who I was said hi to me as I sprinted to find myself a good seat in the classroom where I could hear. I had five minutes before the class started. I really need to start getting up a little earlier. Some of the nuns greeted me as I ran past, looking unimpressed that I was late again. All I could do was smile at them as a sign of apology. I finally reached the classroom with two minutes to spare before the class started. I found a seat and noticed Father Ferruccio was looking at me form his desk way down below in the classroom.