Rage

♠ELEVEN♠

I could swear the clock took an extra hour to tick, its bored too, of this house, half of the time Sal is busy with whatever. Yesterday i didnt see him after my coffee and run, he was somewhere ofcourse but the way he's always busy with something. Makes me wonder what kind of mafia business he's involved in. he's always making calls and yelling at someone or speaking in italian.

Whatever Sal says in italian is clueless to me, its either he saying them so i wouldn't peak in to his conversations or he's saying them because his friends or business colleagues dont speak english. Something tells me the first option has more possibilities because New york seems foreign, its a big city with big business people, entrepreneurs and translator.

Sal is rich, his friends or business partners should be too, if one of them doesnt speak fluent english, they can easily get a translator.

Im tired of staring at objects and imagining, im tired of acting like im fine with living here, and God im even more tired of Dior and her questions.

"Did he look older?" Her voice snaps me back to sad, boring reality. Her eyebrows are arched up and her red lipstick and gloss seems to be dried out, her hair thin laying perfectly above her shoulders.

She's too young to suffer, to live with Sal everyday. "Who?" Her eyes go wide and she's almost frowning. I wasnt listening to all the things she was saying, my brain is too shattered to even be focused on her or one thought.

"Mr Frayles" she says "weren't you listening?" Oh, she asked me where i had been yesterday, and i told her the whole story from the cafe, handsome boy to Lawrence, old lady and dog to Frayles ice cream.

"He's fine" i say, i cant break it to her that all she said was a complete waste of time, words and vocabulary.

She narrows her eyes at me, knowing i had ignored her question. "Thats not what i even asked" she said chopping an onion amd chewing some cut pieces. Chewing onions? Raw onions?

"He definitely could be older, i dont know him too well" i dont know what else to say, i didnt even know the man behind the trunk was the 'Frayles' she nods her head, and pops a slice in her mouth.

"How are you chewing raw onions?" I ask. "Its good for eyesight, havent you heard" im looking at her strangely. Ive heard that thousand of time in school and from my mum but still, not raw.

"Yes, but not raw and you see perfectly... Dont you?" I ask. She looks like she sees perfectly and im starting to think that there's so many things i dont know about Dior. She nods and before she can make a statement the sound of clean shoes on hard tile comes into the background, i turn my head only to see an old platinum blonde man, above his mouth, a mustache and beneath a beard, every hair covered on his face is platinum, does he bleach himself? Or is this a natural hair colour.

He's looking at me, confused too. Like he seen a ghost or a walking-dead Zombie, is he surprised im tall, or he's suprised im in this mansion.

Dior clears her throat, the man snaps his head to her. "Ma the building is flawless, you should notify Mr Camara whenever he seems present" he says looking around the house. "and do as well to inform him that ill definitely be able to be at duty daily now" he says.

"Im happy your in good shape Sir" Dior flashes him a soft smile. "Thank you, you seem perfect as usual"

"The door was already open, im sorry to get you two ladies off guard, i had started work much earlier. I hope i seem of no problem" he adds, glazing from Dior to me.