Just his luck.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 - 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.

The cold hard rain shattered on his back like bullets as he ploughed through the thunder and lightning.

His feet dragged against the wet concrete, and his hair was drenched, sticking to his forehead as water dripped off his nose and chin, soaking his clothes.

His eyes were heavy, and his neck ached. His shoulders were tense yet he stepped through anyway. He wasn't going to give up ; he couldn't. He wasn't going to lose it all now, not now. Not ever.

(This, is the story of Andez.)

And so he continues to limp through the heavy downpour.

Slowly, but surely, he would soon enough make it home.

Halfway there.

Only 1/4 left to go.

Just a couple more steps,

Now a few,

And now only one left.

And he grasps his hand weakly onto the doorknob, before limply turning it, and uses all his strength left to slam it open.

There was a loud crash of clutter, and a few boxes tumbled over. He steps in, cautiously, and shakes his head rapidly to get the water off of him. He quietly shuts the door behind him.

He felt a small shock in his hands, feet and nose as he adjusted from the freezing cold, to the warmth of the living room.

There was a gasp and a man tumbled over, knocking the table upside down, and landing at Andez's feet with a crash.

Andez looks down, confused, and the man quickly scurries to his feet, after wrecking half the house.

The two stare at each other awkwardly, before Andez quickly builds up the courage to ask,

"What the fuck are you doing in my house-?!"

The other man pauses.

The silence was dreading, and Andez wished for the love of god that the man would just say something.

After awkward silence, The Man slowly says: "Hi! I'm Marco!"

Andez seems mortified.

"BUT WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE????"

Marco pauses a moment, placing a finger to his chin to think.

"Hmmm- I don't know!" He says enthusiastically.

"Uh.." Andez begins. "Wow.. that's- uh- very helpful.."

Andez seemed to be confused by the man's response. I mean, have you ever heard a man randomly act all cutesy after destroying your entire fucking house?

The two have a sort of prolonged eye contact, and refrain from talking, until Andez snaps out of it.

"You- You still haven't told me why you're even here-?!"

Marco shrugs.

Andez groans and drags his feet across the floor. It was only then, that he noticed Marco fiddling with something in his hands, almost as if determined to open the thing.

It looked like a jar.. of some sort? Or was it a bottle? Or a box? Or .. maybe even a can?

He no longer had the ability to tell.

"Well, 'Marco', what is that in your hands?" He adds sarcastically.

"Me?" Marco asks, pointing to himself.

"Well no, who else?" He adds back, annoyed, and clearly impatient.

"it's, a jar."

Marco holds up an opaque jar, Andez couldn't see what was inside.

Andez sighs, and steps up the creaky stairs, leaving marco downstairs. His socks still soaking wet from the outside trek.

Soon enough, he makes it to the upstairs hallway.

slowly creaking open his bedroom door, he gazes around at the intricate interior, and decor.

His eyes wander from side to side,

"Strange.. there usually was a painting on this wall.. That er, knock off caricature of 'Boner lisa' or something."

He then pauses.

"Hey! You! Marco.. or.. whatever your name is. Where. Is. My. Painting.."

Theres a nervous laugh, and a shatter of glass down the stairs.

Andez hears the ear screeching shatter, and winces. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Not a very pretty sound.

"What have you done now..."

Andez sighs, stepping down the stairs, on his guard in case another screeching shatter was heard.

Marco was gone and so was his painting, and dusty old glass jar. The window was shattered and tarnished, presumably where he ran into the window to escape.