Picturesque

The world is nothing but a cold, dark place and we are all just victims of an illusion. I finished my cigarette and stepped on the hard, stiff, concrete ground. I was leaning on the corner of a dark alley. That is right, wandering the streets at night especially in this town is a careless act but nobody can mess with me. They all know that, but I am far different from them. I reached out from my back pocket and gazed at a very old picture of a beautiful girl. She had gloriously long mahogany wavy hair and her eyes – those pitched, black almond eyes that can make me stare at her forever. Who is she? I have no idea.

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1. Chapter 1

The world is nothing but a cold, dark place and we are all just victims of an illusion. I finished my cigarette and stepped on the hard, stiff, concrete ground. I was leaning on the corner of a dark alley. That is right, wandering the streets at night especially in this town is a careless act but nobody can mess with me. They all know that, but I am far different from them. I reached out from my back pocket and gazed at a very old picture of a beautiful girl. She had gloriously long mahogany wavy hair and her eyes – those pitched, black almond eyes that can make me stare at her forever.

 

Who is she? I have no idea.

 

I lazily made my way out of this God forsaken town on foot. I glanced at my watch, the dial reads 11 pm. No wonder my phone keeps vibrating, my driver is looking for me. Oh yeah my parents are filthy, stinking rich and we live in a prominent area along the west coast. If you are wondering why I still live with my parents, well the fact of the matter is, I am still in high school.

 

“Young master, sir and madam are waiting for you in the study”, I was greeted by our long time butler, Jenkins.

 

“Thanks” I coped to mutter and dragged myself through the long hallway before reaching the study.

 

“Where have you been??!” My father exclaimed as he was seated on his desk.

 

“This arrogant attitude of yours has got to stop!” he banged his fists on the table while he shot me menacing looks and I know any second he would get off his chair and strike me a hard blow. I glanced at my mother at the opposite side of the hall, I can tell by the lines on her forehead how tired she was of all this. No, how tired she was of me.

 

“I just went out for a walk” was all I managed to say.

 

“You ungrateful piece of shit!!” my father spat at me and he punched me straight at the jaw. I knew it, he always manages to try and hit me in the face.

 

“Fred, stop it! I’m tired of this!!” my mother finally spoke and restrained my father as he stormed out of the study.

 

I spat the blood forming from my busted lips and smirked. The only legacy I can attest from this family was my perfect face and he always has to ruin it for me.

 

“Damien, please stop it. I cannot stand this anymore” I can tell my mother was crying because her voice started to shake. I was staring at the marbled floor of my room as she carefully nursed my busted lip. I could not bear to look at her face knowing it was my fault my mother was hurting.

 

I did not say anything; pain was an emotion I completely removed out of my system. I no longer carried that sensation with me. I simply hugged her and kiss her on the forehead.

 

“Don’t worry, mom. I am fine”

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