In this area, the lights never come on, there are no visitors, and it's always dead silent. The houses stand empty without residents, and no one wants to buy a home here.
Twelve-year-old Luke Campbell suffers from loneliness - he has no friends, an...
"How did you know that I would be here?" Luke looked astonished.
Aliya was beyond angry — she was like a simmering volcano on the verge of eruption. Her normally cheerful demeanor had vanished faster than ice cream on a hot summer day. Even her normally sweet voice took on a sharp edge, capable of slicing through the air like a ninja's sword. It was clear that Aliya's wrath was not just a passing storm — it was a full-blown hurricane.
"No, Luke, wait! I'm not going to ask what the hell you're doing out here at this late hour. Because regardless of your answer, I'm about to explode with anger."
"Listen, it wasn't my choice..."
"I don't care, I DON'T CARE, do you hear me?" She had never shouted so loudly before. It seemed like her voice could be heard even in the neighboring towns. "You're twelve years old, at your age you should be sound asleep, not roaming the streets looking for who knows what!"
"And what about you? You're also twelve and you're also roaming the streets looking for who knows what, aren't you?" The boy didn't have the courage to shout back, so he simply asked calmly.
"Luke, you can't go through this passageway - it's very dangerous!"
"But why? Why don't you ever explain anything?"
Anyone who would dare cross her path would definitely feel the heat radiating off her like a blazing bonfire. She clenched her fists so tightly that they might have crushed diamonds. Her face turned a bright shade of red.
"What the hell were you doing there?" Aliya asked angrily.
"I was running wherever my eyes could see."
"From whom or from what?"
"It's a long story, it all started a few days ago..."
"Come to my house," Aliya interrupted him, "It's definitely warmer there than outside."
***
In the living room, the fireplace was burning, adding even more coziness. Luke couldn't figure out where the girl got the firewood from—hardly would such a delicate creature venture into the forest on dark evenings to chop down sturdy trees with an axe. But he didn't dare ask about the details. After all, everything related to his new girlfriend raised too many questions.
This place was significantly warmer than the orphanage basement. The walls were decirated with faded and sepia-toned photographs in ornate frames. It seemed like they literally spoke of lives lived and stories whispered in hushed tones. A well-tended hearth nestled in the corner crackled softly and its dancing flames were casting gentle flickers of light and shadow across the room. Books lined the shelves, their spines adorned with titles both familiar and obscure.
Aliya quickly brought two cups of delicious green tea with rose petals, mint, honey, and seemingly all the best ingredients in the world. They comfortably settled into soft armchairs by the fireplace, listening to the crackling of logs.
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"So, tell me everything from the very beginning."
"Only after I learn something about you."
"You know my name, my age, my lovely house. Isn't that enough for friendship?"
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Listen, I have a right to have my secrets, just like you have yours."
The air carried a faint aroma of aged wood and books, mingling with the comforting scent of freshly brewed tea. A perfect atmosphere to discuss long forgotten secrets.
"So, eventually, there are some things I am not allowed to be aware of?"
"Exactly. And if these terms don't suit you, then you can just go away. I won't judge you."
The boy just now noticed that Aliya was stirring her tea not with a spoon, but oddly, with a paintbrush. He had attended art school for a while when he was younger, and since then, a paintbrush had always been associated with painting for him. But it seemed Aliya had found a different use for it. The girl was quite like she was from another planet.
"Okay," Luke began. "The whole weird adventure started because of those idiots."
"Which idiots exactly?"
"The ones you already know about. Aliya, have you forgotten?"
"There are too many fools around you, so I had to clarify which ones you meant."
Luke found himself in that peculiar state where exhaustion was knocking on the door, yet his mind buzzed with an electric energy that refused to dim. It was well past midnight and the world outside his window had settled into a serene hush. But Luke couldn't bring himself to return home and surrender to the embrace of sleep. Just not now.
"Well, recently they persuaded me to steal some gilded cigarette box from the basement of that old building. I don't know how my classmates knew it was there and why they needed it at all. Probably to sell for a lot of money because it's supposedly a very old and valuable item. That same building on Blackwell Road Street... In short, it used to be an orphanage long ago, but now it's just a warehouse. There's always a security guard on duty there, and just when I was in the basement..."
"You don't have to continue - I already understand that you got caught."
"Not quite! I heard the man approaching and then I quickly hid in the basement closet. The guard came in, saw nobody was there, and I was hoping he'd leave soon, but he just sat down in a corner and started reading a newspaper. I realized he was stuck there for a while, so I accidentally discovered a passage in the back of the closet, which I entered and ended up in the courtyard by chance. I didn't even know where I was heading to."
Aliya was sitting quietly in her comfortable armchair, cradling her cup of tea between her hands. Her gaze drifted off, lost in thought as wisps of steam curled upwards from the hot beverage. It seemed as if the world outside her thoughts had momentarily ceased to exist, the girl was so immersed in her mind. Aliya obviously judged the boy but decided not to express the opinion directly.
"Luke, promise me that no matter what happens, you will never end up in the basement of that orphanage again. Don't ask why. Just listen."
And she stirred her tea for the last time with the paintbrush before finishing it.
