World-Wolf - (ENGLISH)

Chapter 7

That night went by as well. Russovski Oilman didn't make his appearance again. Boys, I thought it was really him on that Mountain Bike.

Anyway, after the falling's account - Francis had been laughing for a half hour, I'm not joking - I came back at home. There was nobody in. I started pulling over on Internet. I didn't use it often, just sometimes. I mean when I didn't have nothing better to do.

You may think that I have never something to do, but this time I gotta correct you. You know, my mind is pretty creative to made up nonsense. Internet helped me a lot in doing it. It usually gives me a few inspirations. That night I was pulling over and I found myself on Wikipedia. There was this teacher that bothered a lot about Wikipedia. She told us that it wasn't trustworthy and bullshits like that. Half of that is true, but is also true that it is the first link which comes up and so the first you click. I don't know about you, but I'm really bored to keep scrolling.

Anyway, I was on the Russia page. I have never studied Europe capitals in my entire life, but I knew all of them. I don't know how my mind stored this information. I gotta congratulate with her. CONGRATULATION MIND!

So, from Russia Wikipedia page I jumped in another one where flights were as cheap as one of those melon green chewing gum - dentist marketing and all. Internet is a kind of joke; you can find some useful information, though.

The fact is I put in the basket this flight for Russia. It was something like one hundred fifty bucks. The goal was persuaded grandma. I had already got fifty chickens. I needed only another one hundred. Inspired by my reasoning, I went to the porch and grabbed a suitcase. Boys, it looked like the suitcase was coming from a war. Thirty Years' War or something, I swear. A wheel had contracted multiple sclerosis; another one was gone for a trip. A wheel that goes for a trip; me and grandma, both, have the mind pretty fucked. Her genetic makeup is safe with me.

I put random clothes in the suitcase. I have never learned how to make a t-shirt tidy. Believe me when I say it is a complicated thing to do.

"What a fuck are you doing?" Cesare told me as he was on the doorstep. Christ, that was scaring as shit. Boys, I hadn't even noticed him. Cesare did a crazy laughing because he had got me. He was laughing because of enjoyment, that rhino. He was like a three doors armchair.

"What the fuck does your mind suggest you?" I said pretty animalized. Boys, I was angry.

"Can I know what the fuck are you doing? Is it a suitcase?"

People who ask you what is an object when is clear what is it depress me a lot. Cesare was one of them.

"That one ya're talking 'bout? It's a Mercedes Benz made in 2002, 330 horsepower and a turbo engine. A truly German puppy."

"Why are you always asshole? Shitty dummy."

Cesare liked call me dummy, asshole or whatever. But I had never minded about his words.

We don't look like brother and brother. For me Cesare was a talkative cesspool. Boys, I am not a psycho. He had always been a sadist bastard towards me. Sometimes he reminded me Putin. His bastard level was as same as of that dictator, there.

Insane! Every damn Saturday, he did everything to let me out from the Crew. Once he had left me into a drugs square. I hadn't shown concern at all: I had just started walking, hands in my pockets while the police was arresting some drug dealers.

"Why don't you, prick, do your fucking business?" I asked. Even his name is on my balls. Mom told me once that she was enchanting by Roman mythology. That is why Cesare got the name Cesare. By the way, the name is shitty.

"I'm going to fuck while you remain at home doing bullshits. Huh, if you gotta go abroad, take this. It could be useful."

Boys, I remembered just a few instants of those minutes thereafter. I'm going to explain you: the asshole threw a coin on me, but he did that with contempt. So in my mind there's a mice trap; when something or someone pass by the firing trap line, the spring turns on. In that moment the spring turned on. I picked up the coin and threw it on Cesare's forehead. Boys, he was a devil, now. I clenched my fist and I tried to hit him, but he blocked me. Two seconds after that, I got a smack on my cheek and stretched down on the floor while Cesare's knee was pushing on my back. I couldn't breathe, but he didn't care too much.

"If ya don't stop moving like a snake, I punch ya straight on the face. I can do it, I really can. Just say yes and I show ya how your snotty face becomes red." He treated me with his lousy, dual voice.

I had never surrendered in front of Golia, but that time I was literally dying.

"Are you going to stop it?" He cried out. Then, he moved away his knee from my back. Boys, that was a humanity gesture. Before that moment, I didn't know Cesare owned it. Humanity treat, I mean.

"Fucking asshole! Just because you're an ogre with lianas in your nose, you think you're allowed to be a bully." Boys, how much coughing I did.

"Don't show that to mom. You got a bleeding lips. Christ, you have a lousy body. Do some box or something else!" He was regretful. I could get that.

"Screw you. Rather, go fuck Betty Lee." I had a desire to spit on his face, but I didn't.

"Good trip." He greeted at me picking up a condom from his night table. That ogre had a condom factory. Once he was different. After the 13 years-old finish line, he bastardized. I don't know what turned on the mechanism. Anyway, he was a bastard enrolled at the Hall of Bastards Around the World.

As Cesare went away, I kept doing my suitcase. At some point, though, I realised that I didn't have a bathrobe. Boys, I had been finding it in every damn holes. The bathrobe had decided to go in lethargy.

You gotta know about this account. Alert: I'm not going to make a detailed explanation of it. I do that for respect of my woman. Before there was Gabe as well, my older brother. But he and mom had had a dispute which had been going on like a sort of hours. Now he is in a tropical country with a handsome girlfriend. Her skin is a little bit tanned and all and her shapes are promising. Gabe presented her to me through a webcam. I don't know what a hell of business he opened there. I just know that he is bloody rich now.

Gabe topic was forbidden at home. I gotta confess that we had a good relationship. Above all, he wasn't a bastard with me. Actually, when I was younger - Gabe is ten years old older than me - we had lots of fun. We used to do a sort of game: when he walked through the doorway, I played to have a massive heart attack. Back at that time, Gabe was studying medicine; now he is a badass doctor.

Focusing on bathrobe's matter: it didn't get out. So, I decided that I would have finished the suitcase when mom would have come back at home. That night, though, mom didn't come back. Actually, she wouldn't have walked anymore on that house's floor.

Russovski Oilman grasped her towards his lousy trip, leaving me alone like a mutt. Because I felt like that. Lonely. in the lost world.

AUTHOR's SPACE

The notorious suitcase

Luca 💙