Outcasts

Chapter 6: Luca

Luca Russo whistled quietly as he walked through the empty park. It was well past nine now, the area deserted and eerie.

Luca had stayed back at his friend Alex's place for dinner, after they'd worked on the group project. The boys had managed to finish the whole presentation in that afternoon, with the help of a few energy drinks to keep them going.

Now, Luca was walking home, the grass slightly damp on his sneakers. Usually he'd listen to music to accompany him, but at this time of night and in this part of town it was safe to be on high alert.

He passed a group of shady men blowing smoke rings from their mouths. Luca avoided eye contact, instead choosing to busy himself with his phone.

"Oi!" one of them called. Luca quickened his pace, enough that he didn't seem like he was running.

"Where you going mate, we just wanna talk," another yelled in Italian. Luca turned, the entire group herding him like sheep in a field.

He sprinted down the cobblestone street, feeling like a gazelle being chased by a pride of lions. The lamp lights whizzed by, his heart pounding in his ears.

His mouth began to become dry like sandpaper, his lungs an inferno. His sneakers slapped on the wet cobblestone, sweat dampening his forehead. Wind whipped at his face, drying his eyes.

Luca knew he couldn't get away. No matter how fast he was, there were more of them.

Suddenly, the world around Luca began to slow, like it was stuck in thick caramel. The street lights no longer whizzed by, the wind not a harsh explosion on his face anymore.

He looked down at his legs, marvelled at how they were still moving, faster than he had ever seen. He couldn't explain what he saw, instead focused on speeding home.

He arrived at his small townhouse in a matter of seconds, impossible considering it was at least a ten minute run away.

Luca burst through the door, his mother poking her head into the hallway.

"Luca?" she said, drying her hands on her apron. "What's wrong, tesoro?"

Luca opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as he started to become faint. He put a hand on the wall to steady himself, that being no use as he crumpled to the floor.

His mother rushed towards him, her hands on his face. Luca's breathing was shallow, his head light and airy like a balloon.

When he could no longer hold himself up, his body fell face first onto the old wood.