Change Is Good

I walked down the empty streets, scanning the area. I knew where I was going, hopefully. Snow unexpectly fell hard this morning and I felt like solid ice.

My eyes finally met the building I was looking for, a small smile tugged on my lips. I ran up the pathway, entering, the bell ringing as I did so.

"Welcome! How may- Zaviour? Zaviour! Its you!" A man in his late thirties, ran up to me, giving me a hug. I chuckled, patting his back.

"Nice to see you again too, Rico."

Rico was the owner of this hotel, its not the best on in the universe, but it was pretty decent for running for about twenty years. Rico grinned, but it disappeared as soon as it came.

"What happened, boy?" He asked me. Ever since I was nine years old, I would escape my house and stay with Rico, its only when she brought guys home or was getting high on drugs.

"Uh, I'll tell you later," My eyes scanned our surrondings, seeing everyone in the lobby starring.

"In a more quiet place." I finished. He nodded, understanding yet concerned. I would be too if I were him.

"Anyways! Come, come! I'll show you to your room!" He urgered me on, well, more like he couldn't wait any longer to hear my story on why I'm here. I followed him, ignoring the eyes that seemed to be boring into the back of my head.

"Here's your room!" I glanced around, before turning my attention back to Rico.

"Thanks Rico, how much do I owe you?" I offered, reaching into my back pocket, retrieving my wallet. Rico held his hand out, stopping me from taking anything out.

"No need." My eyes bugged.

"But, Rico-" He silenced me.

"Nope! Your like family, Zaviour, you stay here as long as you like, without paying anything!" I smiled.

"Thanks."

"No problem." He replied. He sat down on the medium sized couch, his expression turning serious.

"Now, can you tell me why your here this time?" I rubbed the back of my neck, nervous. I can't just tell him I ran away, he would send me back to that hell house.

"Uh, well, you see...uh." I couldn't find the right words, I was stuck, I just couldn't. I let my head hang, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Rico...I...I ran away." I admited. I could feel the tension in the air, it could be cut with a knife.

"Zaviour...why?" His voice sounded pained, but the wierd thing was, I didn't feel any sense of guilt, or even regret.

I'll never regret the fact that I ranaway.

"I just, I couldn't take it anymore! I almost got killed a few days ago! For just wanting to check if she was alright and she almost hit me in the head with a bottle! She's never gave a crap about me, why should she start now!?" I hissed. I honestly couldn't take it anymore.

"Zaviour, I-"

"No! Don't 'Zaviour' me! I went through hell! And I don't plan on turning back! All I was to my mom was trash that she would kick around! You know what?! I can't take it anymore! I'm sick of being unwanted, I'm sick of fearing every single bloody day, 'will she hit me?' 'will she kill me?' Those thoughts always crosses my mind, every day! Even when I was a kid!"

Rico took everything in, his head buried in his hands, not daring to look into mine.

"Zaviour, I'm sorry for what you went through, I'm sorry." And with that said, Rico hugged me with everything he had,

And I knew, that I needed it after this long of fighting.