The week goes by quickly. Saskia and Tommaso kiss at every turn, coming up for air only once a week, I am assuming. I finish the essay and Kiara stops nagging me about it. Valentino doesn't show up again. The last I heard from him he left a rose at my doorstep with a handwritten note that read "see you soon". But after a week of no show, I can only assume that he has lost interest. Veste and I haven't spoken since the incident at the bakery, we haven't even bumped into each other by mistake. I am guessing that he is actively ignoring me, and I am grateful for it. I apply another layer of mascara when a knock comes at the front door.
"You gonna get that?" Alessio asks, lifting his head from his IPhone when the person behind my front door delivers another knock.
"Give it a sec." Unfortunately the knocking continues. Whomever is on the other side of that door does not want to leave. I walk out of my room to open the door, hoping against all reason that Valentino is on the other side.
"Kiara?" She wears what could very well be a pajama with an obscenely angry expression plastered on her face. If this is about the essay, I am closing the door in her face.
"Where is Alessio?" She asks frustrated, tapping her foot where I would have shut the door in her face otherwise.
"Why do you ask?" I am not in the habit of giving out free information on my friends to almost strangers, no matter how angry they may seem or how many times they may ask.
"It's none of your business" She snaps crossing her arms over she chest.
"Since when do you have an attitude Ms. Clouds are Pink?" she ignores my title.
"Since always. Do you know where he is or not? He is not home and he is not at Saskia's" The shy girl long gone, I gear up.
"It's ten o'clock, why would he be at Saskia's?"
"She's having a party"
"And you assumed that a party would be the perfect place for a fight?" I laugh, eyeing her from head to toe with my nose up in the air. I don't care who she is, when a stranger shows up at my house demanding information on my best friends, I flash my canines.
"Kiara!" Alessio's voice echoes throughout the house before he comes rushing in.
"It's alright Ana, I got this" he places a gentle hand on my shoulder, motioning for me to reenter, which I do hesitantly. Once I am in my room, I open the window behind my bed to let some air in. I pick up the black heels parked neatly under my bed-stand and change into a pair of tight pink pants and a white V neckline t shirt, black heels on my feet. There is nothing about my outfit a mother, or Melina would approve of, but that's the whole point of tonight. In this outfit, no one I didn't want has touched me. In this outfit, I am pure, and fearless. Staring in the large mirror in front of my dresser I don't see a poor girl from the South. I see a girl from Florence or Milan. She lives in Monte Napoleone, right on top of Gucci or Armani.
In my room, staring at my new, make believe self, I am flooded by memories of the woman who raised me, Angelina Ancona. There was this one time my mom brought me to Milan. At the time I wasn't sure why, it all seemed so sudden. But I am no longer a child, and the answer to my question is plain as day. It was because of the Locals.
"Today is about us, le donne" she had said to my fourteen year old self as we sat in a small café waiting for our drinks to arrive. A spritz for her and a hot chocolate for me. Her light brown hair was held behind her head with a blue bandana that showed every other woman in the Galleria di Vittorio Emanuele II that we weren't from Milan. Her long, colourful skirt, my unkempt hair and cheap brown sandals, screamed "contadino". But she didn't care what people thought of her. She never did, and secretly that's what I most admired about her. When our drinks arrived, they came with an acquaintance.
"Adelaide?" At the time, her sweet face reminded me only of a classroom. Now, it reminds me of the beginning of the end. She was one of their first victims.
"Mrs. Pati?" My physics teacher smiled, making me blush, and wish I could hide or run all the way back to the South, with my hot chocolate. I was brainstorming excuses when my mother stood and invited her to sit with us.
"Joanne, isn't it?" Mrs. Pati shook my mom's hand and took a seat.
"What brings you to Milan?" My mom asked her, offering to buy her a drink, which my teacher politely refused
"I thought a little vacation with my son might be nice, considering the circumstances, I see you did the same" as soon as I finish this incredible hot chocolate, my mom and I are off, no more school teachers, just us two and the city.
"Yes, my husband had to stay to make sure the house wouldn't be... harmed" She looked down at me wearily. I could tell something was bothering her, but I couldn't imagine what. Offering me a weary smile, she patt the top of my head lovingly. "Honey, why don't you take a walk around the shops while I talk to Ms. Pati?" I did as asked and walked away with an easy shrug to look at the shops. Her uneasiness bothered me, but what was I to do, or believe? When your mom tells you everything is fine, you believe her.
When we returned home, to the South, Ms. Pati's house had been robbed and set on fire with her husband inside. He was burnt alive, and she was left with nothing. That had been eight years ago when the Locals first started expanding. The message had been heard loud and clear. The Locals will own anything they want, at any price, and at the cost of countless human lives. Four years later, they offered us a reminder.
"Ana? Are you alright?" Alessio asks, leaning against the frame of the open door, watching me.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking about when the Locals burnt down Ms. Pati's house." I admit, dazed by the clarity of the memory which had taken over my mind. Distressed I look away from the mirror, opening and closing my palms to calm myself.
"I remember. I remember my mom telling me not to leave the house that day" Alessio surprises me by saying. "I wish I could have done something" He shakes his head, but we were kids, what did we know about burning houses and burning people? Powerless, children. But then again, everyone in Trani seems absolutely powerless.
"Maybe we couldn't do anything then, but some day..." For a second I let my mind wonder beyond the confinements of my bedroom. What would I give to take the Locals to the grave.
"Let's get to the party before you commit murder, shall we?" He holds his elbow up for me to enterwine my arm around. Together we walked out of the door and suddenly I am reminded of the girl which knocked on my door, hysterical, only moments ago.
"What did Kiara want?" He looks away from me long enough that I ask again. When I look down at his shirt I see that it is spotted with water. Her tears. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, looking at him with pity. If he doesn't feel like telling me, there is nothing I can do about it. If there is someone in this world who understands secrets, its me.
"It's nothing. I was just a prick to her, that's all. Really." He makes eye contact with me, speaking with conviction in an attempt to convince me. "We went out and things were great but then I started looking at other girls and now she is... anyways. She said she'd give me another chance" Alessio runs a hand through his hair, torn by the events that took place in my doorway.
"Why do you say that like you're getting evicted?" He sighs loudly and furrows his eyebrows at the analogy.
"Because, even though I like her and want a second chance, she doesn't trust me. And there is nothing worse than having a girlfriend that doesn't trust you."
Outside the building, we cross the courtyard and stop next to the lampost where both our bicycles are tied. I take out the keys to the chain of my bicycle and begin undoing the lock. He does the same on the other side of the pole.
"Trust needs to be earned. You've got to earn her trust, show her you're better than..." I stop mid-sentence when I see a man staring right at me from across the street. I can't see his eyes because its too dark but I know he is looking at me. His feet are parted and his face isn't covered, telling me that he isn't afraid to be seen. In fact, he wants me to know he is watching. The scariest part is, it's not Valentino.
"I was" Alessio's voice rings in the middle of the deathly silence.
"What?" I ask, having lost all train of thought. My heart is pounding so loudly I wonder if the man knows how much his presence is affecting me. He is still there. Why is he still there? I want to ask him who he is, what he wants, but I am immobile. I want to run, I need to feel in control because I am not. I look away, and back to Alessio who has his back to the man.
"I said, I need to show her that I am better than the man I was. What are you looking at?" Alessio turns around, but the man is gone, replaced by a black van driving over the speed limit, past us and into the darkness from which it came. How did I miss him entering the car? Someone doesn't stare right at you, in front of your house, alone at night, to ask if you want coffee and sugar. They do it to warn you that if you don't stop doing whatever it was you are doing, they'll kill you. They do it to show you who is boss. But the question is, what exactly have I done? Besides, of course, killing four men.
"There was a man behind you. He was staring right at me, it was weird" A look of fear crosses his face, but he swallows it. I can see the wheels turning in his head but whatever he is thinking, he keeps it to himself.
The man's posture was relaxed, not military, but still composed. He had a ride, which means he isn't working alone. The Locals always travel in groups, like wolves. Do the Locals want revenge?
"Let's get you out of here" Alessio and I get on our bikes and ride them to Saskia's house. Riding a bike in heels isn't easy, but it beats the hell out of walking. Still, I really wish I could just get into a bullet proof car.
The Dark is never with or against you, even though it feels like it sometimes. It's a lot like Time in that way; it offers the opportunity to do both good and evil, but is impassive to the outcome. Darkness is potential energy turned kinetic once a body acts upon it, and within it. Love and cruelty flourish in the dark, like fear or laughter in a movie theatre. Tonight is neither heartless nor kind; it is only the creation of people. For me, this darkness is a man hiding in the shadows of lamppost, and the promise of death looming in the near future. Whoever he was, he knew to strike fear. But why me? Why now? There is only one person who knows what this labyrinth of my world conceals. Because somehow, he is the key.