I placed my emerald green suitcase on the ground of the train station. I liked that suitcase. I always had, ever since my uncle had given it to me, at least it had an actual purpose, a usefulness, unlike the pearl necklaces and diamond rings my mother used to shower me with. Sure, they were beautiful, but oh were they uselessly expensive. I shivered as a gust of wind buffeted my thin body. I quickly searched the pockets of my black coat and found what I was looking for: a map of New York City.
I had never been here. I was a California girl, through and through. My parents were wealthy entrepreneurs whom had made a fortune during the World War II, creating uniforms and equipment for our brave soldiers.
I found where I was heading to on the map and called a cab. My new house wasn't very far, but I was tired from the long train ride and I wasn't in the mood to meet new people. As soon as I got inside the car, I heard the driver gasp. I sighed internally, people always had that reaction after seeing me for the first time. As if I was a freak. I glared at him with the object of his surprise. I had pale eyes, one blue and one green.
It always worked. The driver cleared his throat, getting out of his trance, and asked me where I was heading to.
I coldly thanked the cabbie once we arrived and rapidly went to unlock the front door of my newly acquired home. It smelled like dust and ancient wood. I pondered on how long it had been for sale for a moment, but then shrugged the thought away. Who cared anyway? The important thing was that it was mine now. I placed my belongings in the green room upstairs and looked out the window. The sky was becoming darker with every tick of the clock and since I wasn't feeling hungry, I decided to go to sleep.
The next morning, I was feeling fresh and awake. I explored my new surroundings, but seeing my house was rather small it was done in the snap of a finger. My stomach grumbled and since I had yet to shop for food I decided to go eat breakfast a local cafe across the street.
I put on my favourite pink swing skirt with a soft blouse the same color and circled my platine hair up in a pony tail with a scarlett chiffon scarf. I applied my Elvis lipstick, in the Cruel Red shade, thank you very much, grabbed my gloves and I was ready to go.
I got in the cafe, ordered some pancakes and a black coffee and sat alone at a booth. The place was almost empty. The only sound that could be heard was the clattering of the ustensils of the three other clients on the ceramic plates. I was relieved no one really seemed to pay attention to me.
That did not last long though. Two minutes after I received my plate, a young man walked in. He was tall and possessed striking ginger hair in a jelly roll. His face was speckled with freckles.
"The usual." He interjected
The waitress winked at him. I rolled my eyes.
The man looked my way. I could feel his gaze scorching me. He took a few steps in my direction and sat down in front of me.
I stubbornly kept my eyes locked into the darkness of my drink.
