One day in Brooklyn

Chapter 20

Adrian’s POV

I yank open the door to my small brownstone house. I sniffle and try to hold in the tears that weren't supposed to be there. As I peek in the door I see my Mom eating something from a bowl while watching Ripley's believe it or not! On the television. I walk into the safety of home and slam the door closed. My Mother turns to scowl at me.

"Adrian! I told you not to slam doors!" She scolds warranting an eye roll from me. I go into the kitchen and pull open the refrigerator's door. Inside I see a small container of chicken and rice. I pull it out and just for the fun of it slam the refrigerator door making all of the condiments and everything wiggle around and bump against each other. "Adrian for god's sake!" My mother yells turning to look at me sternly.

"For god's sake, what?" I mouth off and then regret it, mother has been in a mood lately since Father and she started fighting again.

"I swear on the holy bible if you don't shut your sassy trap I will." She threatens and I roll my eyes again. I pull out a fork and push the drawer in roughly causing the silverware to clang around and make a bunch of loud noise.

I run up the stairs making sure to keep the rice from falling out of the small bucket like container. As I reach upstairs I see Jo's door is open. She usually keeps it closed. I turn and see the familiar hallway that holds my room. I go down to the very end and pull open my door. I look at my blue and red quilt that covers my mattress. There is a small dresser against the back wall and a mirror hangs above it. I walk to the small chair in the corner and sit in it. I squish myself into it and try to relax as I pig out on my dinner. When I am done I gently lay the bucket on the ground and change into some silky pajamas. When I am done I am so tired I could pass out right here. I trudge over to my bed and collapse under the warm quilt.

I toss and turn all night with an inability to stay asleep without having a horrible nightmare. They all consist of Vito dying. I can't stay away today. What was I thinking? It is early in the morning, maybe four thirty, when I decide to get up and face the day. I get dressed in a pair of tan trousers and a flowered brown blouse. I quietly ease myself down the stairs, careful not to wake Frank, or my parents in that case.

I creep out of the house barely making a sound as I gently shut the door. I walk as fast as I can while looking normal to the few people out before dawn. Vito's apartment is on the other side of town and it takes forever to get there. I pull my fingers through my tangled curls and wish I had brushed my massive hair.

Soon I am pulling open the rickety door and inhaling the musty smell of the apartment complex. I walk up the stairs and I miss a step and fall to my face. A couple pebbles of concrete fall to the ground at the base of the steps. I push myself back up and straighten out before going back up to Vito's.

I feel a slight burning in my cheek and I hesitantly bring my hand to touch the place where the pain is originating. I bring my hand back down and gaze at the red liquid on my hand. I sigh to myself. I am at Vito's door now. I reach into my pocket and shove the key into the small perfectly carved hole. I twist and hear the small click of the lock letting go of its guarding position.

I walk quietly into the kitchen and begin to dab at my wound hoping that it is getting better because I can't see it. I push the handle and wet a small rag. I use my stealth to sneak through the room where Vito is sleeping and into the bathroom. Sometime I had smeared the crimson liquid across my face. I begin to wipe away the crusty blood from my cheek.

The gash isn't as big as some others I have had. When I am done making myself look decent I sit on the toilet lid and huff "Why does this happen to me?"

"Because you're clumsy, Adrian," Vito's voice says right next to my ear. I jump in surprise and cause us both to fall onto the floor.

"Vito, again you made me scared." I say in between my laughing.

"I thought you promised." Vito says all playfulness gone from his face.

"I did but I decided that I didn't want to spend a day away from you." I admit sheepishly. Vito gives a small hint of a smile and I see that his tumors aren't looking any better. They are looking worse they seem to be bubbling like blisters but also like rotting flesh.

I then notice that Vito's normally healthy pale skin is a sick pale the difference may be minor but it is still there. I know that my eyes register concern and anguish as I look into his deep dark eyes that seem to be losing their light.

"What?" he asks quietly looking at me sheepishly.

"Nothing," I murmur quietly adverting my gaze. I don't want to worry him any more than he already is.

"Okay?" he says in a questioning tone but shakes it off.

I walk into the kitchen and pull out the new bottle of Ibuprophen. I shake two out and pour a glass of water. I shuffle over to Vito in my sock feet and hand him the cup and medicine. He downs it and lies on the couch.

Slowly as the day goes on I notice a slight glimmer to his skin as his body is coated in a layer of sweat. That isn't good, is it? I walk to the kitchen and pull out a hand towel.

When I get back to his side I slowly dab away the sweat but just as soon as I do it comes back. I know that isn’t normal. It may be part of the symptoms but I don’t know.

Vito has only slept today. He needs his rest so I don’t wake him up. I just dab at the sweat and soothe him as his head lies in my lap. He had woken up from a nightmare so I came over to help him.

He is just so sick. My mind can barely comprehend it. Eventually I decide to go home and gently move from under his head. I get out of the door and wince at the creek of rusty hinges.

A man is standing against the wall smoking a cigarette. I glance at him and pick up my pace down the hall. I look back over my shoulder and he is casually following me.

When I reach the middle of the hallway I realize I forgot my keys at Vito's. I slump forward and against my own will I go to get the keys. The man is right behind me now and I practically run into his chest.

"Excuse me." I say politely and try to go around him.

"No can do, ma'am. See, I think you are very pretty." He slurs and I can smell the vodka on his breath.

I pull in a deep, scared breath and say "Well I am flattered but I need to go." I say trying again to pull from his iron grip.

"Young lady, I like your attitude." He draws out the 'u' sound.

He pushes me against the wall and moves toward me. I shriek for help of any kind, just as his lips smash roughly into mine and the taste of cigarettes and vodka fill my mouth Vito staggers around the corner waving my keys in the air. He sees me.

"Let her go!!!!" he roars angrily wobbling to me and using his little strength to attempt to pull than off of me. When that doesn’t work he just says "Man, let her go, rape someone your own age." The man seems struck by this.

"H-how old are you?" he asks

"Thirteen." I say casually but confused. Why does he need to know my age?

"Oh god." he says murmuring an apology and walking away.

Vito collapses and I try to drag his tired body into his apartment. I barely make it but he says that he can get to the couch himself.

The walk back home is lonely but uneventful which is amazing. When I get home I get changed and fall asleep.