HOW FAR I CAN LET YOU SINK

There's no room in this Hell and there's no room in the next.

If you want, you can listen to the song i put on the right i know this one is in italian but it's beautiful so you could just listen lol . the title is "I'll take a picture of you" more or less, if someone wants to know the lyrics i will try to translate them, just for you lol ^^

A car was approaching and so were the shots. I could hear them higher and higher, every second nearer. The neighbors heard them too and as a matter of fact they started to step on their open front door, to take a look of what was going on. Their faces changed in few seconds and with a cold terror growing inside them, they went back to their warm, reliable and safe houses and probably called the police. Most of them did nothing though; too afraid to help. They preferred to stay silent, mind their own business, lower their heads and accept the situation.

Anthony and I froze. We could have run. They would have found us anyways but it was worth a try. Anthony grabbed a bag he had left minutes before on the kitchen counter and then my arm. I tried to free me from his tight grip and reach the photo I had left, the only memory that would have been possible for me to save because I knew we would have never be able to see that house again.

“C’mon Ian!” Anthony shouted trying to drag me towards the backyard. The photo was too far for me to reach it so I surrendered and gave a last look at the house; the only place we could call ours. I quickly closed my eyes to print the image in my brain, to put it in the archive of all the things I’ve lost but never forgotten, the same archive Anthony was in.

And suddenly I was afraid for Melanie. What if they found her and kidnapped her instead of me or Anthony? What if they tortured her to get information about where the money was? I couldn’t let them hurt her: she was my family, the woman I had to create a family with in a short time. My thoughts went back to Anthony. I couldn’t save both. If I went to Melanie I should have left my best friend, the man who had always been next to me, who I shared half of my life with.

The shots and the car stopped abruptly. I heard someone forcing the door and then only me and Anthony running away. We climbed over the fence that marked the border of our garden and the start of our neighbor’s one. We ran as fast as we could, as far as we could even if we knew we had nowhere to run to. And as I got out of breath I stopped and forced Anthony to stop as well. I wasn’t used to run anymore. When I was younger I participated to plenty of marathons and sometimes won but back in that not-really-cold October 2013 I had nothing of the young me. We agreed on that fact that we were far enough, and that they wouldn’t come till here:  the park we grew up in. We hid in the dark trying to be as far as possible from the streetlights so they could not detect us. From there we could see our little house and their big black car parked. Some of them were in the house and shouted a name I didn’t know: “Gavin”, followed by several insults. It was probably the name he gave in order not to be tracked. Sure, if he wanted to really be prudent he shouldn’t have given that address.

After a bit they started the car and shot the windows and then drove away. We stood still till we realized what was happening. The inside of the house was slightly lit and seemed like that orange light expanded to the entire house. A dark fume came out of the windows followed by bright flames which ate and consumed everything that was on their way and everything became fire. The flames fed themselves with what populated our house, growing more and more, an untamable lion with sharp nails that wears out everything. The once white house started to gradually blackening. Something was telling me to run towards it and recover all that I could, especially the picture but my feet seemed not to care about the orders my brain repetitively sent and so there I stood. My knees hit the ground and the pain I felt remembered me I wasn’t that strong anymore. I let my head rest on the wet grass and my hands grab it and tear it.  We lost everything even if that wasn’t our actual house. We lost the computers with the videos, the mail, the costumes and the only place we could be alone, together.