Living In North Italy: The Cost of Friendship (A Hetalia fanfic)

Bumped into Luigi.

 So, um. this is short so, yeah, gomen! I just wanted to leave it there for this chapter and start the rest next chapter. :) Bottom notes for more info!                                                                       

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So, I want to get some details and explaining out of the way before it interferes with explaining something at some point in time. I hate it when that happens.

My name is Sylvia Buttercup Berry. Yes, like the flower. And the Powerpuff girl.

I just moved from New York, New York to Venice, Italy with my family. We’re currently living in an apartment right on a canal in San Marco.

My birthday is November 1st and I’m 16 years old. I am going into Year 3 (Junior, 11th grade) at the Million School of Knowledge.

I speak fluent English and Italian and am going to be taking Greek.

My immediate family consists of my dad (Jacob Berry), my mom (Loreen Berry), and my younger sister (Abby Berry).

I have long, slightly curly dark brown hair, slightly lighter brown eyes, and olive skin. I’m 5’6.6”.

My sister has long, extremely curly bright blonde hair and sky blue eyes. She looks just like our mom.

My dad has light brown hair and grey eyes.                          

I look nothing like my parents.

Why?

Because genetics is a bitch.

You can figure everything else about me as we go along.

“Abby!” I yelled up the stairs at my sister who was probably still in bed. “Abby, wake up!”

I heard a loud thud and then I saw the door to her bedroom slam open. A crazed beast with wild blond hair stepped out and glared right at me as if I had committed the worst crime ever. “What?” My little sister, Abby, growled at me.

“I’m heading out to school, you better get ready also.” I explained in a commanding tone, raising my voice so that I could get my point across.

She rolled her sleepy eyes at me. “Yeah, whatever.” She said before slinking back into her room and slammed the door once again.

Letting out a sigh I shook my head before turning around and heading for the door. Flinging my backpack over my shoulder I stepped outside and started the walk to my new school. The streets in Venice are usually stone, not black cement like back in America. It was strange, so foreign. Well, I was in a foreign country so that would explain it. But it was still strange.

It was 7:30 and the streets I was navigating through were completely empty and void of life. Some of the cobble streets in Venice were packed with people; it really depended where you go. Since I was walking in the opposite direction of the Basilica di San Marcos the crowds of tourist would start to slim down. Also, I doubt many people came to visit Venice in September. When I first moved here I was shocked by how many Asian tourists there are. I have nothing against Asians, it just, they’re pretty much everywhere as tourists. Especially the Japanese. Well, then again, so are Americans.

As I turned a corner I ran into something solid. Well, it wasn’t completely solid since it fell over and landed on the ground. I stood there, not even shaken from the run in, staring down at that man that I had bumped into. My mind seemed to work slowly as I processed that he had fallen over because of me. Suddenly, my brain finally started functionally properly and I fumbled for words as I raced over to his side.