British-African, Damian Margo has been working as a henchmen for mafia leader, Louis Auclair for a year now. He moved from London to France to get a fresh start but ended up getting bullied by young French frat boys he attends college with. Due to t...
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"Damian! It's time for your train! Hurry before you miss it," exclaimed Mrs. Margo from the family's living room. "Alright. Give me a minute! Just tell dad to get the vehicle started!."
'Dear Diary, Today, October 20th, 1906, will be my first day and first step into a new life. I've been planning for this moment all my life. I even took French classes and tutors for this. I have no idea what awaits me on my arrival to Paris, France, the city of romance. Funny that I'm not going there for romance. As I've written previously, France will be my chance at a career of wine farming or making. Mother and father hate it when I say wine farming. Anyways, I'll be majoring in agriculture. I'm excited for my journey prying up ahead. I can't wait to write the many adventures and events that may unravel. Alright, time to go before father gives me an earful. Goodbye diary. Sincerely, Damian Margo
"Damian Margo. Land your feet on these steps at once and hop in the car. We paid too much for those train tickets! You absolutely will NOT miss it young man. Make haste!" Damian groaned as he heard his dad yell from downstairs. He understood the need to hurry and leave but he hated his father's lectures. Damian always felt them to be useless, long and boring. Deciding that he didn't want to hear anymore of his father's lecturing, the young boy maid his way down the stairs. He reached the bottom of the steps and looked in a mirror that resided by the last step.
He checked his brown eyebrows, soft curly brown hair and his outfit. Damian was currently wearing a pair of black trousers, matched with a white blouse. His white blouse was covered by a velvet green vest and a red tie, tucked under. Before leaving the mirror, Damian gave himself one last glance. He then dashed into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of toast. He hastily stuffed it in his mouth and ran out of the house. He saw his father waiting, leaning on the car impatiently. Damian knew this car ride was already going to be filled lectures and sighing.
"Hurry and get your arse in this car Damian." With a sigh, his father hopped into the driver's seat. The car's motor began. Damian hopped into the passenger's seat and threw his suitcase in the backseat. While buckling in, his mother could be seen at the front door. Her kitchen mittens still on as she waved with a soft smile.
Damian's mother was former slave. But you would never know from her light as can be skin. She was known as a passer. With her freckles and green eyes that complimented her extremely light and creamy yet brown skin. Her hair was dark brown but she dyed it to make it look blonde. Damian didn't like it. He preferred his mother's dark brown hair. It always brings him back to when she'd read night time stories and sing lullabies.
He knew why she dyed it and he hated the reason. Nonetheless, he keeps his mouth shut because he believes personal things as such should be left alone when it came to his parents.
After waving goodbye to his mother, his father Mr. Margo pulled the car out of their middle class sized drive way, leaving their middle class house behind.
