Love's Dark Legacy

|2.0

The air felt different on this side of town—thicker, heavier. The glinting skyscrapers and sleek roads of Alvaynia's advanced core had given way to old, worn streets where poverty lurked at every corner. Herculeana's mother had warned her before they left, "It's not like home over there. Keep your guard up."

The buildings seemed to huddle together, close-knit and cramped, as if trying to keep out the futuristic progress that had swept through the rest of the city. The car drove slowly, being careful not to cause any havoc, herculeana was a bit pissed at the way her driver was driving, did he think some random shooter was about to pop out any minute.

She felt uncomfortable bringing anyone at this side of town even if it were her drivers, they always seemed to judge, and were always cautious, her mother's side of family lived here and she wondered if the drivers acted like this did they feel she was dangerous or a criminal as well?

One of the drivers told her a story

"You know, I always thought your mom was related to the Parkinson's" Mr. Williams said while looking through the rear view mirror. "They live in this small town your grandmother lives in"

He realized her silence and continued "there was this girl, by the name of Ellington Bullard Parkinson...yes we'd always call her Ellington Bullard, she was just two years older than me when I was eleven. You remind me so much of her Herculeana, the way she looked and the way she carried herself, even in the manner she speaks always using her hands... mhmmm"

Her father told her about Ellington Bullard before, but he said that she was a local hero, who died at the age of twenty two.

She never saw photos of her but she Ellington looked nothing like her, though the her driver was talking about persona.

glancing at the towering walls with their chipped paint and the crumbling sidewalks. The deeper they ventured, the more the contrast between her world and this one seemed like night and day.

They approached a rundown apartment complex, its façade stained with decades of neglect, and climbed the creaky steps to her grandmother's apartment. Herculeana could hear the familiar sounds of distant music, old tunes playing from someone's window, and the sharp chatter of voices echoing in the narrow corridors.

When her grandmother opened the door, a wide smile spread across her weathered face, the wrinkles deepening as she looked at her granddaughter. "Selena, baby! Look at you, all grown up." The old woman's voice was thick with an accent, her arms outstretched as she pulled Herculeana into a warm, if fragile, hug. Her grandmother's apartment was small, the walls adorned with faded family photos, but it carried the weight of generations. The scent of cooking spices lingered in the air, filling the tight space with a sense of comfort.

Herculeana's four cousins—two girls and two boys—were scattered around the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor or perched on the sagging couch. Her uncle sat in the corner, cradling his newborn baby in his arms, while a tall, pale woman hovered near him. Herculeana's cousin Zayna, tall and slim with a head full of curly hair, leaned over to her as they exchanged a side glance.

"Thought you forgot about us"

"You're... actually crazy I could never forgot about you guys" Herculeana said looking for some place to sit.

She waited to hear someone bring up something about money or her mother being stingy with it. That's one of the reasons she hardly visited her grandma's she's always complained about the money Herculeana's mother would give her. To Herculeana it was too much because nobody knows all the things her mother spends her money on, she also has to spend her money on other people and on her businesses and so much more.