Chapter 1

    

AMARA'S POV

     "Thank you so much for buying the house" I smiled "You can come by Thursday, we just need two days to move out".

    Woah! That was a great lie!

    The look on this man's face wasn't encouraging at first and I thought he would want his refund immediately. Just kidding, I already gave him his forged receipt and document of the house.

     With a wide smile on my face, I watch the man walk away in happiness. Poor thing, I am about to ruin his surprise gift to his girlfriend that would not accept his proposal until he buys his house.

     "They will learn soon" I shrugged.

      This is the third person I am selling my late parents' house to today and I can't help but feel somehow excited. Call me a thief because it's my nature and I can't change it even if I want. Not when stealing has become my only hope of surviving since I was fifteen.

     Let's start from the beginning, the very beginning.

     My name is Amara Zino, I am an orphan who lives with my only relative Madame Flavia. I lost my parents at the age of fifteen when they went on a 'parents bonding trip' and never returned alive. Their valuables were all missing same as some useful parts of their bodies their fingers and a significant bullet wound in between their heads.

      They had lots of gun wounds on their chest, head, and neck, and one on my mother's left breast. Half of my father's head had been blown off and I puked on his body when I saw it. Funny enough, the picture of my father's brain and the hole in my mother's breast never left my head for once.

     Since then, My aunt moved in to take care of me but what was I except? She arrived with her always-drunk boyfriend, Massimo, and her extremely spoilt 12 years old son, Bruno. Living with them for nine and a half years was hell, especially when I had to share my room in the basement with rats.

     Did I forget to tell you that the best part of selling my late parents' house is because Madame Flavia still lives here with her family? 

      Yes, they still live here and I hope they will adapt to living on the street soon because, in two days, the three new landlords will come for their house. One will get it, the poor girl I gave the real documents to yesterday. I couldn't help but pity her because she is like me, 25, maltreated and homeless.

      Although she paid 50 Euro which I used in getting the cross bag I am having across my chest right now.

Walking into the house to take my laptop, I make sure not to make a sound at all.

      Getting into the basement, I put on my favorite sweater and very tight jeans trousers. Stuffing the laptop inside my stomach and waistband helped me sneak out of my only useful property until I got to the front door.

    "Sneaking out again?".

     Dang, it! 

   

    I had no idea Bruno has been around. What he is even doing her by the way with his...turning back to look at him, a deep frown spread across my face as I sight him wearing my stolen Jersey.

     Two weeks ago, I went to the market to price a new white wig which I actually stole too. The Jersey was something I couldn't miss so I asked for the price and didn't notice it ran out of the store with me stuffed in my jeans and trousers.

    The same blue ripped jeans I am wearing now.

      "And why are you looking so bloated like..." He moved closer to touch my stomach but I stepped back "Why is your stomach bloated?" Bruno flash me a toothy grin.

    Damn! He looks like a catfish about to be catfished. No matter how I feel that I shouldn't do it because don't want, teaching Bruno a little lesson became my next priority. With his phone glaring at me in his front pocket, I moved close to him and let a single tears drop down my left eye and that's it!

      The next thing is Bruno offering me 5 euros and then a small pat on my back. Little did he know that the latest iPhone he brought a month ago followed me to the door. Well, it didn't get to follow me so far because the last tone I noticed was when I exchanged it for a container of Pringles, two oversized shirts, and a small bag for my laptop.

     Don't ask me how I got the laptop too because I stole it three months ago on a bus. The user unlocked it in my presence and forgot it on the chair. As a good, Samaritan, I attempted to return it by running after her immediately after she left but no way! You can't trust a thief with a pink MacBook she can never afford.

      With the balance of 3000 euros, I am happy that I have booked a flight to America and my flight would leave in the next three minutes. I have planned about this for a whole year, all the process of making a student visa, renting a very small apartment, and someone to pick me up from the airport in Chicago where I will arrive.

     I will miss Italy, I will miss Calabria, and the market I enjoy stealing from.

     I heard America is a place of opportunities so I bet I will have to stop stealing thereof I must go to college and actually get a job for the first time in my life.

     No more sleeping in a dark basement with lots of Rodent friends and insects. I became so used to cockroaches and mosquitoes that I no longer feel them crawl over my body. What else do I expect I had to stay in that basement for eleven years since I was ten years old?

     A twenty-five years old orphan knows better than to still be scared of anything except death.

      Soon, I am seating on the plane with my heart in my palm. This is the first time I am entering a plane and I am terrified for my life. I can literally feel my head flying backward immediately after the plane left the ground and my heart now beating somewhere around the lower side of my stomach.

    

       If not for the nice fellow beside me, I am sure to pee on my pants.

      Such a gentleman to hold my hand till the plane leaves Italian soil. Sadly, he was putting on a beautiful ring when he held my hand but didn't leave the plane with it because I could not let such a good ring leave my sight.

        Stepping out of the plane with my small bag, I looked at the ring for the last time. It would be worth more than a thousand dollars if I sell it in America and that should hold me for rent and other things for the next three months.

      "Poor fella" I shrugged "I just hope this isn't your wedding ring".