Chapter Text
I like to think that the events that lead to where I am today is life's way of saying ''Fuck you.'', which is exactly what happen. I have received life's ''Fuck you.'' loud and crystal clear.
Never did I think that at age nineteen, I would be where I am today. A few ,prior, years ago I would have thought I would be somewhere much more pleasing, somewhere much more superior than where I am today. Where I thought I would be, would be in a chair, in front of elaborate desk, in a much unneeded vast room, one of the many I thought I would have obtained, in the manor I should be in. I thought I would have a hand full of servants, who followed my orders on command, no questions needed to asked, nor would there be questions asked.
But, that was not life's plan for me. Not in the slightest. Instead of a manor, I currently live in an apartment complex. Instead of the superior position I should've had, I'm employed to what would be considered childhood obesity's worst nightmare, Mcdonald's. Instead of the servants that should be working for me, I simply take orders as a servant by the manager of this disgrace called a fast food chain restaurant, Mr.Lou.
The life I live is what people call reality, which I've grown accustomed to. The event that left me to a gloom reality; my parent's inescapable deaths.
Exactly ten years ago, when I was the age nine, my parents arrived at death's open doors. Their deaths are ones that can be commonly fount in fictional novels, or horror stories, they were burned alive. Not even their corpses remain, they were burnt to ashes, leaving their ashy remains on the ruins of once what I called Home.
My father was of high authority with the underground world, while his false position was well known as a lawyer. My father was a lawyer, but that was a cover up, to fool the common people of society of becoming aware of his true occupation. An assassin.
He swept away the worries of many by one way only, to permanently eliminate the worries. To dispatch each one with one way to do so, murder them, without a hint of hesitation. Which is what happen to him, along with his beloved.
He may have been exceptionally well at his job, but that doesn't mean others aren't as well. If anything, he knew there were others that made him look like the dirt at the bottom of their shoes, it is something he accepted. Something he shouldn't have accepted.
The ones that wore the shoes with my father underneath, seeked revenge on him.
I, myself, escaped with what little chance of surviving I had. In novels I would be known as the coward of the story. Abandoning my parents to burn to ash, I saved myself and hid in the woods of the manor, watching as the flames consume the dreams I had, the family I had.
Not only was my parents burned to ashes, so was the little happiness I obtained. Both burned to the ground, with nothing more of cheerful memories that can never continue, for how can you continue such things when the people you shared them with are no longer?
''Hey, eye patch boy, you going to hand me my food?'' A brute woman asks.
''Yes, my apologies.'' I reply, keeping my ''The costumer is always right.'' act maintained.
I hand the woman her bag of food, containing three double cheeseburgers, a single large fry, with a large sweet tea. I know all the following items are in the bag, but the woman must think other wise, because she opens the bag to check if they are inside the bag.
Once she notices that everything is in the bag, she tosses the bag the passenger seat and turns to face me, with an awful facial expression.
''I didn't know little boys who enjoyed dressing up as pirates were allowed to work.'' She grunts, referring to my eye patch.
''Ah, I suppose you didn't hear on the local news this morning. As of today, little boys who enjoy dressing up as pirates are now allowed to serve swines such as yourself garbage for minimum wage.'' I retort back, as she gasps in surprise.
At that moment, a familiar sight of blonde hair passes through my vision and jumps in between the lady and I.
''I'm terribly sorry, ma'am! He takes his jokes a little far, a joker he is!'' My coworker covers for me, Alois.
''Well, next time I don't want to hear terrible jokes.'' The woman says, driving past the window and out of the property of McDonald's.
Alois let's a sigh of relief escape his mouth and he turns to me. Obvious irritation plastered on his face, with a slight of his usual gleeful expression. He lifts his pointer finger up, right in front of my face and waves it back and fourth.
''Ciel,Ciel,Ciel. What did I say about customer service with a smile?'' He says.
''Honestly, you expected me to treat that woman a smile?'' I ask, already knowing the answer.
''Yes! You need to learn to smile, Ciel. It's essential when working with people. You have such a short temper when it comes with people, and it doesn't help your case with your stern facial expressions. We sell happy meals, look at the boxes for some help.'' He says, pointing to a nearby happy meal box that has a yellow smile on the front.
''I'm going on my lunch break early.''I say, disregarding his speech, once again.
I walk out of the fast food restaurant and walk along the tan sidewalks. Walking along, I shove my hand into my front pocket and dig out my wallet. Looking through it, I have five singles, and a single ten dollar bill. I suppose today's lunch will be the same as yesterday's, a Red bull and a packaged sandwich from the convenient store.
I continue my short journey to the convenient store and take the moment to recap this week's schedule. Today is Monday, so tomorrow I have classes, I also have classes on Friday. I work tomorrow and Thursday. So, my only day off is Wednesday. Maybe I'll take that day to head to the used book store down the street from my apartment. I haven't visited there in some time.
I walk into the convenient store and pass through the aisles of junk food and stationary supplies. Opening the door to the energy drinks, I grab a red bull and quickly close the door, allowing the cold air to disappear. I walk to the area where you can purchase packaged lunches and grab the one sand which that was just a simple peanut butter and jelly, with no crusts.
Once I started college, my eating habits took a turn to the worst. My meals mostly contain what is in my hands, or ordered pizza, with bread sticks. A typical college diet.
The cashier checks out my items and hands me my purchased items, giving me a fake smile and words of having a nice day.
I walk out of the store and head to a nearby bench, that is placed in front of the store, away from the doors of coarse. I sit down and open up my package and take petite bites into the cheap sandwich and wash down the peanut butter with the Red bull.
After finishing my meal fit for a king, I bring out a box of cigarettes and a bright green lighter. I bring the lighter to the cigarette and light it up, instantly bringing the object to my mouth in inhaling. Letting the poison inside my lungs, and then exhaling, allowing some of the poison to escape.
I balance the cigarette between two fingers and stand up from the bench. I should start heading back to work.
I allow myself to take a few more hits of the cigarette before I get back to work, but stomping it on the concrete once I get close to the facility.
When I walk through the doors, I'm met with Bard, one of the cook boys at work. His face says everything. His face is a mixture of shame and embarrassment, but what really stands out, is the new layer of dark and burnt skin on his face. The strands of his hair is black and burnt, along with what is left of his eyebrows.
''Ye can go home, ya hear, Champ? There was an accident in the kitchen, so the big man is allowing everyone to go home early with paid.'' Bard says.
''You started the fire I assume?'' I ask, plainly.
He looks down at his shoes, utterly ashamed of himself. I take that as a yes.
Bard doesn't always burn down the kitchen, so I savor each moment I get to go home early with pay. I basically race myself to my apartment complex, racing up the stairs, and quickly unlock the wooden door, revealing my apartment.
My apartment has a bathroom, bedroom, and the kitchen and lounging area is connected. The kitchen has a white fridge, beside an oven and stove. A microwave sits upon the marble counter tops, next to a worn out coffee maker. There is a small island in the middle of the kitchen, with three wooden stools next to is.
The living room has grey carpeting, a single black couch, with two dark blue couch pillows on each side. Beside the couch, is a small table, with a lamp sitting atop it. Near the couch is a wooden coffee table, with a few novels neatly set upon it. Across the couch, is a television stand, holding a small television. One wall of the living room's is a sliding door, that leads to a balcony.
My bedroom has navy blue walls, with the same carpet as the living room's. A wooden bed stand holds a compact mattress, that fits my small figure perfectly. There is a bed stand next to the bed, that has an electric alarm clock on it, and a ash tray. There is a dresser, filled with clothes, and a desk, covered in my studies.
The bathroom is a small room, with tiled flooring, and dull decor. The only thing that decorates it in any way, is the beige rugs that lay next to the tub and the toilet.
I walk into my bedroom and change out of my uniform attire. I dress myself in a navy green t-shirt, accompanied by a pair of grey skinny jeans. I cloak myself with cologne, to get rid of the fast food smell off of me.
I walk into the living room and grab the book I'm currently reading, Stormbreaker, a book by Anthony Horowitz. I grab a pack of cigarettes off the coffee table and a lighter and walk out to the balcony. I sit down on one of beach chairs that are on the balcony and sit back. Opening the book, I start to read, holding the book in one hand and putting a cigarette in my mouth and lighting it with the other.
Reading the content of the pages, I quickly indulge myself with the book, completely forgetting all reality. Right now, I'm not Ciel Phantomhive, I'm Alex Rider, a fourteen year old boy, who lives a life as a spy. A spy who's trying to find his uncle's killer.
That may be why I'm so fond of books. I always rapidly find myself deluding myself with these books,allowing all of reality escape from my mind. For those moments when I'm reading, I finally get the images of Mother and Father be gone. The images of their burning bodies, as I stare them in the eye, then running. The images of the burned down house, the burned down family, the burned down happiness, they're all forgotten. They're no long existing, for those moments.
Books are just my escape from all of reality.