How it started

Chapter 2

KAMARI
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May two flames part at the seem but ignite once they've been seen
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I stare aimlessly into the dark colored distance as words and instruments clash together into soothing sounds for one's ears to hear, cherish and go in through one of my ears and then the other.

When I was little I would climb out of my window with a book in hand and would always sit on top of the roof. Sometimes I would read and other times I would just take in my surroundings.

There was this one house in particular that no one would ever buy because of the neglect it had received, in my eyes it had always been beautiful.
It had quickly become my favorite spot to sneak into, since legally I was breaking and entering into a property. But it wasn't as if someone had actually lived there so morally I was doing nothing wrong, not that I had cared either.

The house and I had something in common: we both had been neglected, abused, and used in so many ways. So instead of finding comfort in an object I found it in a property, one that shall forever be engraved as mine.

Both me and this house will flourish into something as beautiful as the steady lazy River that you can hear at night if you listen closely enough, or the pale moon that even itself has its own flaws.

I wasn't the only one who found comfort in the house, the nosy kid I had called my best friend had found comfort in it after following me on one fateful night.

But that connection had long been lost, so now it is just me the house holds a connection to.
Or more like the house is the only connection I hold that is close to comfort.

"Get the fuck up and make food you bitch, I have to even wake you up to remind you." Screams Roger into my door half drunk and half dead waking up the other alcoholic zombie in the house.

I haven't slept in 48 hours, my body has been functioning with splotches of bruises of all sorts of colors for 48 hours.

I sigh out a deep breath as I close my eyes trying to infiltrate as much air as I can into my lungs before exhaling it all feeling a rush of second satisfaction taking over just to be gone just as quick.

I walk back into my disoriented room and remind myself to lock all my emotions away. It pisses the two raging alcoholics off and then come the beatings, I just want to survive, but doesn't everyone?

I was already dressed in what seems to be an oversized stripped comfy sweater with combat green loose pants that flared out at the bottom and my beaten basic black and white converse, since the fall around this town seems to be making its presence known. I grab my bag stuffing my things in it and then head towards my tattered closet reaching for the box I keep my books in and reach for one to bring along with stashing any left over money I have in another book.

I stuff it in my bag and take in a deep breath exhaling it and then finally opening up the door exiting out of my comfort zone and stepping out into a mini destructive world the house around me holds. I walk downstairs avoiding the broken steps and holes the stairs carry, when I finally reach down the stairs I avoid the creaky planks of wood on the floor heading into the kitchen and throwing away the left over bottles in a bag. I open the fridge taking out 2 eggs and then a stale bread.

I cook the food leaving it out on the counter and I realize it's dead quiet around the house. Which means one of two things, either it's the calm before the storm, or he went to go stock up on more beer.