Ruthless A Don's Story

Chapter 1 It was winter, the lakes were frozen, the air was thin, the roads were icy, and snow was everywhere, Ryon was known for its winter seasons, but this year it had it bad, very where was full of snow, the gutters were iced, the trees were frozen, but in the midst of all this. I sat on one of the long waiting benches, in my school. It was closing hours, and I was waiting for Bruno: my driver. He was late, but never this late, I wondered what must have kept him. The halls were silent, the closing hours were brutal like all life had been taken away, and the school had become lifeless. It was dead silent. It was just me and Micheal that were left, Michael was the security man. He was making his usual rounds, making sure that the classes were locked and that everything was in place, he would pass here any moment from now. But I didn't have time to dwell on that; the only thing on my mind right now was getting home and getting in my soft, warm, and cozy bed; the day had drained a lot of me. And I needed all the sleep I could get. I dipped my hand inside my bag and brought out my hoodie. The waiting area was usually warm, but today it was cold, and the heater must be spoilt; I put on the hoodie and started rubbing my palms together. And puffing my breath in it, In an attempt to get me warm, an attempt that seemed to work, I covered my head. I kept my bag pack on the bench and laid my head on it, it was uncomfortable but manageable. I closed my eyes, not to sleep but to get a bit of rest, the day had drained and finished me more than I thought, it was hellish, jumping from one place to another, But my rest was cut short when I heard footsteps coming towards my direction, I opened my eyes it was Micheal, he was whistling a tone. A quite catchy one at that, He moved like clockwork, always on time. “You're still here?” he said as he saw me. “Yeah, I guess so,” I said without looking at him. “That's a problem” “Why so?” “Hmm, he said and bit the top of his lips, “you know I have to close everything up. And I can't let you stay here alone, right?” “I know, but where else can I go? “ “ Where else can you go, all the classes are locked,” he said, tipping his security hat. He seemed to always be doing some kind of movement when talking; it was a habit I'd known him to do; Micheal and I go way back since kindergarten, and we became somewhat friends thanks to my usual lateness in going home. “How about the garden? “ "The garden, it was like a thousand degrees below zero out there, and you want me to go out there? Are you trying to get me killed?" I said with confusion in my Voice. “I can keep an eye on you from there”, can't I? And I don't think the security house would be a nice place to let you stay, it is warm, but I don't think you would like it" “Try the garden first, if it's too cold for you, then you can stay with me in the security house” “I think that would be better; see you in a few, "I said as I got up and packed my stuff. “You head on, I have got to do one more task” I lifted my head from the bag, and I made my way towards the garden; with snow everywhere, it wasn't easy getting there. I opened the small gate that led to it. Come to think of it, I hadn't been here in a long time. It was my favorite spot as a kid, anytime I getgotnely I visited it, the flowers always gave me joy. But that was then and this is now. The winter made the leafy greens tether away, the trees looked like little bits of needles pointing out points, it was way colder than the waiting area, the garden was colder, it saved me from the burning sun during the summer, the long palm trees, the dense flowers, the water that was always used to wet them and the thin lawn, I was able to look up at the sky because of the layers of trees protected me from being seriously burnt. But in the winter, it was an enemy; I sat down in my pink hoodie; the bench was uncomfortable and freezing. My legs were crunched together, another attempt to keep me warm, my bag pack was firm across my chest, and the hoodie was over my head. I was so cold, but I couldn't do anything about it, snow started falling. That's when I knew I had to run and meet Michael, I shook the snow off me and ran towards the security house, I met Michael at the entrance. “Phew. I wanted to start coming after you, glad that you are OK”. “The garden wasn't your best idea so far Michael” Let's get you inside before the cold kills us both" Micheal opened the door to the security house; it wasn't as bad as Michael said; it was a one-floor mini apartment with a nice little brown coffee table in the center and two black sofas facing each other. A Mini TV set on the right side of the wall as soon as you entered, and a plan ceiling made of p.o.p, it had two other doors covered by curtains. The walls had pictures of rappers like Jay-Z, Eminem, and XXXTentacion. Blue light curtains that moved with the wind. It was pretty Zen. “It ain't much. But it is better than sitting under falling snow” he said as he dusted off the snow from under his boots. “Thank you, Michael” “ It's fine" “I didn't know you were into rap music” “Been hearing it since I was a kid, am addicted to hip-hop” “That's nice” “What can I get for you, can I get you anything, or would like to take anything” “Nothing really” “Make yourself at home” I dusted off the snow and sat on one of the sofas; it fell inwards underneath my weight; Michael made his way inside and popped out later with a bowl of hot water for my feet. I kept my bag on the coffee table. And took off the hoodie. My shoes and socks were wet, I asked Michael if I could dry them off, and he agreed, I deepened my feet into the water, it was life to me, and though it stung me, it helped me, I gave it to him and took them inside, where he said he had a dryer, I left my long hair fall, it had been packed in a ponytail all day, and it was killing me, I did in every sense of the word made myself feel at home. I even went as far as taking off my uniform, it was, all I had o was my black top and the skirt of my uniform. Although Michael was inside drying off too, the security house was the warmth I needed right now because I didn't see Bruno coming anytime soon, I got up and peeped through the window, the snow was falling heavy now, “God, I hope I don't end up sleeping here,” I said to myself with a bit of anxiety. I heard laughs coming from Micheal's room. Short bursts of happiness. He must be watching a movie or something; I turned back and headed towards the sofa. I sat with my legs pressed together, my arm in between them, my head bowed. I thought of nothing, I looked up again and my eyes met the Jay-Z poster. On the small left corner of the poster, the word: Hip-hop for life was written on it. In black. I never really did like hip-hop; I was more of a jazz music fan and violin lover; Dad made me spend my summer vacation practicing the violin with one of the best teachers in violin, a grumpy old Mrs. Sarah. She was good, but she often complained about almost everything. She was always looking burnt out, her hair was always scattered, and her glasses were reckless. She looked like a nerd, but a burnt-out nerd. Her house was always full of cats, it was very difficult to get a step in. But under all this, she was the sweetest, and she made beautiful violin music, she died two weeks later after we finished our lesson. Pa and I went to the funeral, and it turned out she died from cancer breast PA gave a beautiful speech that day when he was invited to give a speech about the deceased. He made a speech about how the world lost a priceless gem in music; I, on the other hand, thought about her cats; who would feed them? Her husband died a few years ago, she got the cats to keep her company, and they became her family. She would always tell me and that if I paid close attention, I would hear them speak; I thought she was crazy; now her family was alone, a house full of cats. With no owner, but It was later learned that Animal control came and took them all away. Poor cats. I wonder if she would be happy in her grave without her cats. "Here you go,” Michael said and handed the now-dried clothes to me. “Thanks, I didn't even hear you come in” “You were so focused on the poster” “I guess I was” “Another lover of music I presume,” he said as he sat down on the other sofa. “Something like that” “Whose your favorite musician” “Beethoven” “Beethoven the dead guy?” he said, looking very surprised “Yea” “Ain't that sweet” “, I guess, am just different” “ It's nice to see that the world still has people who value old things" “Meaning? “ “It's good you ain't a lover of those I-pod shuffling d**k heads” “Haha” “ I'll leave you to change now, I got six more episodes of Chef's Feud to watch" “Thanks for everything” “Ya most welcome,” he said in a somewhat British accent and left. I heard the familiar sound of our car pulling up into the driveway, I peeped through the window, and I saw it. I told Michael and he helped me back my things. We headed out.