Pyro

Ka-chik! Ka-chik!

“You taking pictures again, ‘Sandro?

I nodded as I adjusted my camera.

“What is it this time?”
“Weren’t you supposed to be in school today, Davide?”

He kicked a stone down the road.

“Bella covered for me. She told the teachers that I was sick.”

I shook my head and chuckled.

“Your sister is too nice.”
“Yeah…Do you have any siblings, ‘Sandro?”

I shook my head.

“You and Bella are the closest things I have to siblings.”

“Oh…okay. Are you coming over tonight? Dad is making his homemade lasagna for dinner.”
“Sorry, not tonight.”

He rested a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you sure? You know how we all worry about you being alone.”

I bit down on my lip.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
I looked at my watch to check the time – 6:32 P.M.

“You should get home. Your parents and Bella are probably waiting for you.”
He nodded in agreement.

“Bye, ‘Sandro. Get home safe!”
I watched him dash down the steep road, heading towards the direction of his house.

I didn’t want to go home. Not yet.

I wandered the city, hoping to clear my mind – it doesn’t fully work.

Eleven months, yet it still doesn’t fully work.

Walk past the coffee shop – a greeting towards Adriana.
Play guitar on the street with Jacob, an American transfer student, for a few minutes.

Both done with fake smiles.

A child giving an old homeless man a pastry.

Ka-chik!

Lie on the roof of the closed-down art studio and stare up at the sky – the various colors of the sunset; not a cloud in sight.

Take time to think. To reflect.

Eleven months. No contact. No sign of life or existence.
The scarf had lost its scent of cigarette fumes and cinnamon long ago.

Even when I’m surrounded by a new life, by new people, I’m still alone.

I’m still alone without him.

The stars come out as I make my way back home – I’m tired, drained, empty.

I gave up.

I looked up to see my bedroom window open – someone climbed the balcony and broke in.
I quietly entered the house, placing my camera on the kitchen table and slowly making my way upstairs.

I don’t want to fight. I can’t fight.

Hug the wall. Continue towards the room.

I stop for a moment.

What if he has a weapon?
What if he wants something more from me?

I shivered in disgust as I remembered when I was taken.

I shook away the thought as I made it to the door, placing a shaky hand onto the doorknob.

1…
2…
3…!

I barged in and prepared for the worst, but stopped when I caught sight of the red scarf in his hands.

The strong scent of cigarette fumes and cinnamon after its long absence.

He turned to look at me, a wide smile making its way onto his lips.
Tears quickly formed in my eyes as I propped myself against the door.

“‘No matter how long I’m gone’, remember? I told you that I would always come back, Alessandro.”