Pyro

A walk through the town. Grey building after grey building.
Another layer of snow from last night was added to the ground.

I was inhaling my third cigarette of the day – I should slow down, but it feels good to hold the smoke in my lungs.

Right now, I really need that feeling.

“No! Mommy! I’m sorry!”

I turned to see the woman and the boy from the day before – the boy was shoved into the snow, being beat mercilessly by the woman.

No one else was around to witness or to stop the violence.

She moved away and spat on him.

“Trying to hide from me again! Going out to play without my permission! You can stay out here for today and tonight, you ungrateful little shit!”
She slurred the words, and then she was inside the house.

I tossed my cigarette to the ground and snuffed it out before walking over to the boy.
He sat up, wiping tears and blood from his face before he noticed me.

I knelt down in front of him and grabbed the end of my scarf, using it to wipe the blood from his nose.
Bruised cheeks and a busted lip.

He looked up at me with sad, tired eyes – too young to already have dark circles under them.

I bit down on my lip and looked away from his stare.

“What’s wrong…?”
“You remind me too much of myself.”

I heard footsteps and turned to see two other kids coming towards us.

“What happened, Leo? Are you okay?”
Leo – the boy – stood up and nodded.

“I’m fine. I just tripped and fell, that’s all.”
He put on a smile and went to his friends, walking off with them.

They thought nothing of it.
Then again, they were about eight years old at the most.

They couldn’t have known better.

I stood up from the ground, making my way towards the café.

“Good morning, Pyro.”
I nodded towards Giov, ordered a mocha, and took a seat near the window.

Halfway through my drink, Marco entered.

He kept a wary eye on me, missing Giov’s greeting towards him.

“Have you gotten over your illness, Marco?”
He nodded and ordered a coffee, barely taking his eyes off me.

I took out another cigarette along with my box of matches.

Marco’s eyes widened, mouth agape, as I lit my cigarette with a match.
I slowly grinned towards him, causing him to choke a little on his drink and to quickly turn away.

He doesn’t learn well from his past mistakes, does he?

I finished my drink and threw the cup away before I walked over to Marco, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I hope you don’t get sick again, Marco. Things have become very unpredictable lately.”

My smile only grew wider as I felt him tense up.
I let him go and said goodbye to Giov before I walked out.

//πυρ//

“I’m home, Mother.”

I closed the door behind me and locked it, walking into the living room.

“Sorry I didn’t say anything this morning. I needed some fresh air.”

No response.

I sighed and walked into my bathroom, filling the bathtub with warm water and stripping down before stepping in.

I couldn’t help but stare at the marks on my arms and my thighs.
I brushed a finger against the scar near my collarbone, remembering how Alessandro kissed it.

His soft, auburn hair. His flawless, pale skin. His pink lips.
The way he moans my name and scratches my back in pleasure.

What I would give to have him here right now.

I leant back into the water and ran a hand through my hair.

I can’t think like this. Not when I’m away from him.

I started to trace more of the scars on my torso, closing my eyes tightly.

The pain.
The screams of horror and agony.
The bruises and the betrayal.

I opened my eyes to find myself underwater, tightly gripping the edge of the bathtub.
I came back up, shaking my head slightly as I massaged my temples.

“F-Fuck…”

I decided to finally get out, drying myself off with a towel and wrapping it around my waist.
I stood in front of the mirror, frowning at the image – dark circles under hazel eyes, scars and burn marks that littered my skin.

Then I smiled, remembering that they’re a reminder.

I shut the light off and walked into my bedroom, pulling out a pair of boxers and pulling them on.
I dried my hair with the towel and threw it into the laundry room before making my way back to the living room.

I knelt down in front of the chair Mother was placed in.

“I saw Marco again, today. He was surprised to see that I had my matchbox again. Probably set the recent house on fire to try and frame me.”

I moved some of her singed black hair out of her face, placing a hand on her cold, grey, sunken-in cheek.

“But guess what? I have such a loving boyfriend that he stole my matchbox from the crime scene. Isn’t he wonderful?” I smiled at such a thought.

I placed my other hand on top of hers, gently tracing her bony fingers.

“Don’t worry, Mother. I won’t let Marco hurt anyone again. I’ll be sure of that. I just have other things to take care of first.”
I bit down on my lip and moved my hands away.

“I just wish I could tell Alessandro, but he won’t understand, Mother. He won’t understand and he’ll stop loving me. Just like you did.”

I sat onto the floor, tears falling down as my body shook.

“I don’t want to be alone again…”