The creaking of worn down stairs fills the air as I walk down the familiar stairs to the living room. As the floor of the room becomes visible, I can hear the glaring sound of the TV from my left. Since I already know the source, I look to my right, staring at the mirror in front of the door, looking at my glossy skin peaking through my long straight hair. Entering the garage to let in mom. Since she forgot her keys, she's been working more recently because my dad got fired a few days ago.
In her slightly raspy voice, sounding almost like a cry, I can hear her call out to me "Lika! What did Hugo make for dinner?"
With anxiety in my voice, I ask "Can we talk for a sec mom?"
My mother, hearing this, almost jumps back reflexively, as I haven't initiated talking with someone for years, it felt foreign to me too. With a gentle caution in her voice, she asked "can we talk about it over food? I haven't had any food since breakfast…" All I responded with was a light chuckle, but under it, you could definitely hear my heartbeat, though she wouldn't comment on it.
As we sit down on the small square table in the kitchen, across from the living room. As my dad, Hugo set down the plates of cheese filled gnocchi, covered with a deep marinara sauce, a dish we have almost every week. The deathly silence in the room is strangling me and my mother. But as my dad pulled up his chair, he bellowed "What's with this mood? You guys have a fight or sum?"
"No, it's just that Lika wanted to have a talk, so im waiting for him to speak" My mother said in a monotone voice, forcing me to start talking.
"It's… I wanna move to Italy. I'm 18 now, so I'm able to move, right?" I finally said it!
Both my parents looked bewildered, the first one to say something was my father. "Is this some sorta prank? Lucia, did you put him up to this?"
"No, I don't know where he got this idea. But I'm more confused that he wanted to ask us for permission" My mother spoke, in that same monotone pitch, though you could hear that she was a little taken aback
Before I even knew it, I was on my way to the airport. This was the first time in years I saw both my parents in the same car. Only then did reality set in, I finally did it! I've been planning this for years!
Once we got to the airport, we sat down as a family, and waited for my flight. The slow tick of time, the loud airport filled with the sound of laughter, crying, and many other emotions. As I sat there, listening to all that's around me, I began to reflect on the time I've spent in the U.S, my past.
July 9th, 2013. I just began to be able to talk, and ask questions. Whenever I encountered something unfamiliar, I asked my parents what it was and how it worked.. July of 2013 is when I began learning, and when I got addicted to that feeling. That feeling of when you learn something new, that feeling of knowing something you didn't before. I gained access to the internet around 2019, right when I began middle school. Instead of having to ask people how something works, I just would use google. But little did I know, this would lead to me becoming less adept with social interactions, though i want very mad with it, just observing others. But since some things aren't written as their common sense, I began adapting and learning things based off of others. Using what I would learn from people to shape my world view, I would soon realize what true scum was. It was those who didn't put in their full effort. Due to that, throughout my high school days, I didn't really interact much, you could count the people I interacted with on one hand, instead I would listen and absorb. Every sentence, every word, every letter.
As I zone back in, I can hear the boarding for my plane beginning, I can see the people from group 1 beginning to enter the plane. I look to my right, seeing my parents both in a daze, touching my dads shoulder, just as he did when I came home with the valedictorian spot for my high school. Just as I hear him mutter, in an almost cry-like whine "you're gonna be okay up there, right?"
"Yeah, Dad" As I engrave his face shape, and blemishes into my head, his rough hands and his kind yet experienced smile.
"Text us every once in a while, will ya?" my mom butted in, in a voice just as shaky as my dads.
"Of course I will, mom. You should come visit me every so often" Even though I was never a very emotional person, I felt like tears welling, but my parents beat me to it.
"Will group 9 now start boarding please" Played over the intercoms as all 3 of us looked over to the line. Only then did I realize just how little I interacted with my parents. It's true, you really only know how important a person is until they're gone.
The flight was overall quite normal, the usual flight experiences, or so I've heard from the research I did beforehand. The baby crying, the talkative next door neighbor, I got everything I wished for, the new experience was quite interesting.
Now in Italy, I began making my way to the land I bought with about 90% of the money I brought. As I creep around the bend of the road, I can see the perfect little warehouse. Around 800 square feet of open space, with a door right down the middle. And electricity that can support whatever I want to try! But that wasn't what excited me, it was the surrounding forest, with not one other house in sight, an area completely for me. I get to choose my interactions.
The only thing left by other people is the personal library of the previous owner, someone who was crazy about books. The only requirement he had to get the house was to not throw away, or donate the books, and to make the same agreement when I sell the house. I could respect this since it was genuine, not something that was imposed upon him by a previous generation, he was truly a man worthy of respect, unfortunately I only know his name, Rylrith the Frail. But other than that, I began making it my own. Starting by setting up my living area, a small corner beside the door, so if there was an intruder, I could react right away. Next I set up a workshop, so I could make this area tailored to me. Since I needed supplies, I went over to the nearest town and began shopping, but as I shopped, I decided to get a journal; so I'm forced to do something everyday.
Although it seemed fast, over a year passed at that point. Since I didn't plan on moving away, it felt like just the beginning. Instead of being in an office cubicle like most people my age, I was thriving. Everything I do is for myself, I have no restraints, so I just keep building.
January 15, 2027. The house has become much more cluttered, I'm gonna start building shelves and storage areas.
June 3, 2032. I moved the books from the old owner's pile onto shelves, it looks like he wrote a few of them himself! I gave them their own separate shelf.
November 20, 2038. My face is beginning to wrinkle, I wonder if this is what my mother felt like when she turned 30.
April 8, 2042. I've begun writing my own books, just so I don't forget what I learned in my teen years
August 1 2045. I'm starting to get pretty good at hunting! Though I'm still struggling on making my own tools… I'll get the hang of it eventually.
September 14, 2047. My parents' health has been on the decline; I'm thinking of going back to support them through it, but they keep saying they won't let me.
February 27, 2052. My mother died, I don't know what to do about it, I never really had friends so this is my first major loss.
July 19th, 2054. I finished the 5th book of my series. I've decided to publish it publicly to honor my mother.
December 5, 2062. My father passed, I truly only have myself now.
August 22, 2072. After going through my old books, I found this journal again. I've begun reading the books left by my last connection, Rylrith the Frail, what a beautiful name it truly is.
As I wake up in my usual spot on my imprinted bed, instead of going to my usual self made book stand, I first go to my rack, as I scrape the years of dust particles and dead skin cells laid upon the books. I find one rather strange, even though I haven't fully cleaned any of the books on the shelf, there was one still clean. It caught my eye, that's all it was' as i picked it up i noticed its unfamiliar scent, instead of smelling like the usual modern book goat leather, it smelled foreign. It even felt foreign, almost like it was written with a special ink, or a unique dye on the leather. As I flip through the pages I see barely any writing, for a book that is almost as thick as my calf, only about 3 pages are written; was it a journal? No, no the writing is to complete, the handwriting seems to be purposeful. What could be so important to waste so much paper? And why is the only book who uses this unique scent in this one? I've gone through almost every book that Rylrith owned! So why this one?