Luciano

Chapter 1

My house wasn't anything special. If anything, it resembled a cabin with the surrounded wooden walls.

I lived with my mother. It was just the two of us and the household was always quiet and steady. Everyday she'd leave early in the morning for work at the local gas station then head over to the single grocery store there was for her night shift.

She'd then come home late, when I was asleep. So really, we didn't interact much.

I wasn't too heartless. I went to every store there was present in town to question whether there was a vacancy or not, after all, I too was living under this roof.

As for her husband? I didn't know where that man was. Never met him. Although I was given a single tattered photograph of an unfamiliar stranger holding me in their arms, a soft smile placed on their lips.

Not that I found it touching or anything.

My room too wasn't anything special. It was dark. I preferred the curtains shut tight and the absence of things like posters or accessories. Nothing like a normal female teenagers room.

But I wasn't fussed, I didn't mind that we couldn't afford a lot of fancy stuff. Because sooner or later, we were going to die. So why have an expensive lifestyle if it was temporary?

I sighed. Despite us humans waiting around for death to come, it didn't mean boredom wouldn't strike.

Although in these cases I went to see the only person I regularly spoke to.

Luciano D'Angelo.

With that single thought in mind, I lifted my body up from the tiny bed I slept on and grabbed a fur coat.

I paused by the full length mirror nailed to my grey wall and glanced at myself. I looked down, zipping up the coat to my neck, boots already on.

As I left, I noticed a single bowl wrapped up on the otherwise vacant bench.

Just like every other night, my mother would prepare a single dish as my dinner. I once again paused, considering eating before I left.

However I grabbed the torch by the door instead and pulled open the creaking wooden door, softly closing it behind me hearing the unstable 'click' that was supposed to reassure me it was locked.

I followed the graveled path out onto what was supposed to be the road, my boots crunching with every step. Digging my hands into my pockets, I began the usual route.

I looked up, letting my eyes waver.

Our house was very quiet. So was our neighborhood. There was probably a sum of eight houses only throughout this block, a large distance between each.

To be quite honest, I wasn't even familiar with the people who lived near us. The only person within the neighborhood I had spoken to once or twice was Ms Martha.

She was a retired widow, a fairly old lady, who I'd come across here and there when she forced her orange over sized cat, Gretel, into a dog leash, demanding it to walk.

Other than that, the area was like a ghost town.

Sometimes I'd watch people, especially the groups of teenagers who'd meet up at the park close by to the cemetery with some cheap beer or fireworks.

It was the only thing that was apparently close to remotely fun that they could think of.

Of course not for the few who'd go out of their way to drive out of town and see all sorts of sights and wonders that were seemingly available.