Dark Prince

Methodical rain pounds on the metal of the moving van outside, but I’m not ready to leave... at least not yet. First I must say goodbye to my place of shelter in this rented home of mine. Although some may call it more of a shack than a home- I call it paradise. Located on the outskirts of Paris, it is very much like Brooklyn is to Manhattan, with a few European exceptions. It is a sort of "poor" version of Paris. The streets are narrow, and in the place that I have spent the last three months there are many cryptic alleyways. Let's just say this is not the safest neighborhood to hang around at nighttime in, but during the day it is an old Parisian town come to life.

The people are friendly and most treat you like family. Whenever you meet a new person you are at risk of being invited to tea with delicious homemade pastries. I take a deep breath of the musty air. “I will truly miss you house. I am very grateful for your shelter. I hope to one day re-visit you!" As I walked towards the door in my hand-me-down, almost vintage cloak the floorboards creaked one last time- as if to say they'll miss me too...

"Hurry up Ava!" yelled my younger brother.
He has forever made it his lifetime mission to try and annoy me. Of course no matter how hard he tries I can never do anything to hurt his feelings.
" We don't have all day, and I need to sleep before going to my new school tomorrow! Do you WANT me to fail?"

I knew exactly what kind of retort he expected me to say. And while most wouldn't think twice about telling their siblings off, I just could never bring myself to saying rude remarks to my family. They are much too valuable to me.

"Sorry for the wait! And, I don't want you to fail Elliott."
Elliott smirked in the backseat of the van.
"Now guys, let's not fight before moving into our new home."
“You know that she's too scared to fight with me mom. She knows that I will always win anyways." my brother said proudly, puffing out his chest like a king. I sighed. Sometimes my brother can be impossible.

There was nothing else left to do but look out the window at the beautifully lit streets outside. The light bounces off of puddles, creating a circus of colours. The pavement is littered with trash, or "urban decay" as I like to call it, giving it the distressed an imperfect look that I love about cities. My mother has always told me that I was too optimistic for my own good, and that’s exactly how I felt like tonight. It's something so unexplainable to the outside world- Something that has taken me over ever since I was born. Happiness and joy have surrounded me all throughout my life. I have felt somehow different from everyone else in the world, as if the evils of the world never affected me at all, but maybe that’s just my imagination.

Being optimistic is very important in my job. I have always volunteered at hospitals wherever we’ve moved to. The only problem standing in my way of becoming a doctor is my lack of education. The constant relocating to suit my mother’s job left gaps in some of my knowledge. Plus, my parents could never afford to send me to college- let alone university. So there you have it; I’m forever an amazing nurse.

However, I’ve never blamed my parents for this. Poverty for me did not mean unhappiness. It is just another aspect of my life. It has taught me that true contentment has nothing to do with materialism. Riches and money only give you fake, hollow happiness. Something you’ll forget the instant your eyes see something new. An animalistic excitement to “shiny” new things. In this way I’m glad that I’m not from a privileged family. It has taught me to be optimistic, which really helps in being a great nurse, and maybe even a doctor in the distant future. But for now I should return to reality.

The rain had stopped by now and the sidewalks glistened with a fresh, revived look. It was past midnight by now and I had just woken up from a short sleep. Looking out at the streets, I can’t help but smile. The party-goers of the night are out laughing and enjoying their time. Their mood almost “transfers” into me. This is the rich part of town. Elite clubs and designer shops line the streets.
“Mom, how long are we still driving for?” I whisper because Elliott is fast asleep. I’m drowsy and knowing that my dad has already set up most of our furniture at our new house, I can’t wait to sleep in a place more comfortable than a car.
“In about two hours or so Ava.”
“O.K” I yawn, and continue admiring all the beautiful boutiques and open the window for some fresh post-rain air. With the damp air wafts in the sweet scent of bakeries. It’s a Saturday so some businesses are open late.

Suddenly the scent of alcohol and smoke burns my nose. This is definitely night-club country, I think to myself. Something strange happens next. I get an eerie feeling that something isn’t right. We approach a certain night-club, and as we turn the corner my eye is drawn to a stranger leaving from the back exit. The darkness disguises his identity, and only the red light of the exit sign shows me his contour.

A fear like no other comes over me and hits me like lightning. I have always been able to feel and relate to people through their feelings. I have even noticed that I can people happier just by sending them nice thoughts- but this, this was different. It was like I was trapped in the person’s emotional depths unable to escape- unable to breath. It was as if I saw a ghost. And the stranger’s feelings were those of sorrow, pain, and misery; unknown to me.

Within seconds we passed him, and I was able to recover from the horror I felt being around that stranger. I did not understand what had happened, but I did find out tonight that I couldn’t make everyone happy. As I looked back at the man who I now knew was in great turmoil, he seemed to not have noticed me at all. Who was that! I really hoped that one day someone would answer this question…