A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 1 - The Beginning of a New Life

Sorry, this chapter is a bit long because it has a lot of essential information that you'd need to know to understand any future twists and turns. The suspense and drama kicks off next chapter ;)

Life wasn't always easy for me growing up as a young child living on the streets of Moscow. The more I aged, the harder it became to survive through the circumstances of severe poverty. There was a short time when I would pray for the luxurious necessities other children would openly flaunt at my expense – not that I associated myself with anyone.

People casually passed by and wouldn't so much as give me a glance. I was a street rat after all. Frequently, I would escape reality and be consumed by a perfect world my mind had created as an effective coping method. A world in which numbed the pain, limited the suffering to something more bearable and made a lot of sense compared to the cruel reality I was expose to on a daily basis. Everything was imagined to its utmost detail, such as the wind lightly brushing my hair as I roamed the clean streets without fear.

The fact I would be free to enter a café without being stared at in disgust or immediately kicked out for supposed loitering. I would be able to taste waffles as a first and have a hot chocolate with three marshmallows. If I were granted such fortune, I would leave a huge tip for the café's pleasant services and then walk to a nearby shopping centre.

Constantly scavenging the streets for leftover scraps had often led me to wonder what it would have been like to have a large sum of money. Reflecting on that slim probability, I doubt I'd know what to do with it or where and how to spend it.

However, a very long time ago I had come to the harsh realisation that money did make the world go round. And the truth of the matter was I had none, nor would I be fortunate enough to ever have any. At least that's what I thought. From my perspective I was a street rat with no family, friends or someone who cared about me – well, not anymore. I was alone, deserted and at the brink of death due to starvation. This was the brutal price I paid for being born. Something had to have been wrong with me, otherwise my parents wouldn't have abandoned me at birth.

So here I am at the prime age of eighteen. Lost, hopeless and absolutely pathetic. This was exactly where I belonged. It was what I deserved for existing in a world which did not welcome my kind.

There were no stars shining that night. But the moon stayed bright, emitting light onto the busy roads, lanes and sidewalks. I laid my head onto a worn-out blanket as my grubby fingers clung to it for life. A flash of light illuminated the sky before it erupted in loud thunder.

Not long after, it began raining heavily. People ran for shelter or shared umbrellas as they walked home. Some hailed a taxi, whereas I embraced the wet icy drops which drenched my dirty clothes. My stomach growled ferociously, not haven eaten a proper meal in four weeks. I vividly counted the days it would take until my misery would end and I entered the afterlife – hopefully, a better one than my current.

Amidst my overtired thoughts, I caught sight of a tall figure peering at my face. That was when I met him. His eyebrows furrowed as if he were analysing my features. There wasn't really much he could admire. I was covered in dirt. My fawn, wavy hair knotted like a bird's nest. My caramel tanned skin was rough and darker than what it had been. Everything about me screamed 'contaminated' or 'touch at your own risk'. With taupe coloured eyes, I stared at him with confusion. He looked foreign, not Russian in the least. He had fair skin covered in freckles, thick arched eyebrows and a chiselled square face. His eyes were a striking emerald green. He had his grey hair slicked back in a very clean but modern style. He wore, what appeared to be, a very expensive suit. It made him look important and a professional business man.