Status: Finished.

Ebony and Irony

Irony has a certain way of coming back round on me again, like some twisted boomerang with a GPS system installed.

From the age of six, when my parents had pulled me from my kindergarten class in safe little Washington and thrown me cross country to New York, things had never been quite right. I'd had a... gift some had said, of dealing with irony in the worst situations. Such as my eleventh birthday, when my parents and grandmother had died within the same hour and I was thrown across the street to live with my neighbors, the Sanchez's.

I had to pull my box of things up two flights of stairs and knock on their door, explanation note in hand from the officer who'd told me. He'd been too busy, he said, to help me with my things. A teenage boy wearing glasses and a party hat opened the door with a displeased look. I asked for his parents in a quiet voice, and handed them the note, unexpectedly ruining their son's thirteenth birthday.

I was taken in that night, and roomed with the boy, who's name just so happened to be Claudio.

Disclaimer:
To my immense displeasure and regret, I do not own any famous occurrences in this tale, especially a Mr. Claudio Sanchez. All other characters are figments of my wild imagination, and I would thank people kindly to enjoy them, but not to plagiarize.
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