Lost (in Your Emerald Eyes)

New Field. A small town like so many others. Passing it without noticing would be incredibly easy if only the presence of a diner, Carl’s Diner, didn’t cause all the cars to pull over. The town with so many differences yet a bag full of similarities between the residents. With an excessive amount of coffee shops, exactly six parks (four small, two big), and a huge mall, it didn’t look much strange to anyone. If they had only known... The town’s two sides had been forced into a rivalry from the early generations. The civil war between the two had made the residents hate each other, even now, hundreds of years later. After the North of the town won the fight, it got divided in two: the Northside and the Southside. The development and the manner the citizens acted were greatly influenced by the side they lived on. The Northside was a place with the perfect white picket fence around every two-story family home that had a beautiful garden

Reading books was like an escape from the world for Ramsay. He could just lie on his pullout couch, ankles crossed, and get lost in somewhere else, with someone else, as somebody else. There wasn’t anything better than that.“Boy!” his father’s voice called. Ramsay jerked and sat up, pushing the book under his pillow and quickly lighting a cigarette next to him. BT walked into the trailer that exact moment and Ramsay took a deep breath, releasing the smoke afterward.“I told you not to do it in the trailer,” the man grumbled.Ramsay rolled his eyes and stood from the couch, wondering that if he already lit it for a show, he could just as well finish it. Bumping into his dad’s shoulder, he left the trailer, shutting the door behind him with a small thud, and sat on the few steps outside.Releasing another steam of smoke with a growl on his face, Ramsay looked at the homeless dog who was always wandering around the

Ramsay woke at two male voices shouting at each other somewhere in the distance. He blinked his eyes open, glaring at the dirty ceiling above him, and with a groan sat up on the pull-out couch. Understanding the voices were coming from the trailer park, outside somewhere, he stood tiredly and tugged sweatpants over his boxers, leaving them to loosely rest over his hips as he tiredly made his way to the front door. It was unlocked, signifying his father was gone already. Ramsay hoped it was for work and not to go to the Nest with other Vipers. With his eyes adjusting to the bright light outside, he thanked the Lord for school holidays and blinked twice more before his pupils focused on the two men screaming at one another, both wearing leather, about to knock each other’s heads open. “Jones,” Ani murmured, suddenly appearing next to his doorstep. “Do something before they kill each other.” And just like that, she walked back to her trailer where her grandfathe

Ramsay watched the blonde exiting the bathroom, and frowned to himself, seeing the way her nose and cheeks were pinkish, eyes glinting red in the light. She didn’t pay any attention to him or the other customers as she made her way back to the counter. Jessy briefly touched her shoulder, and Emmie managed a small smile for her before visibly sniffling and going back to work. The boy didn’t have much time left till his shift in the bar on the Southside, and as Ani had left while the girl was in the bathroom, he tried to stop himself from falling into conclusions or deep into his thoughts. Emmie’s mother had basically told her she was fat. And not only was that untrue, but it was also mean and stupid. Especially as a mother. The problem was that Ramsay wasn’t sure if it was the first time, or it had happened before. Maybe Emmie was just sensitive and that’s why she had cried? Or maybe, it happened often. He didn’t know. But he did know his shif

Ramsay woke up extremely early that Sunday. He took a full-body shower, brushed his teeth, and shaved. Before that, though, he had gone for a run on the river’s edge, hoping to see the blonde girl before their date in a few hours. That mission failed; Emmie hadn’t been there. Now, sitting on the small, crappy kitchen table, he was nervously chewing on an apple—his third. They never had much food at home, but when they did, it was usually bought by him, not his dad, and gone with a day. That’s why Ramsay preferred to eat at Carl’s; he had the freedom to eat all of it and pay a small amount of money. As Ramsay heard his father’s steps down the hall, he glanced at the clock on the wall and groaned, letting his head fall onto his nape. “Morning.” BT stopped on the small doorway, narrowing his eyes a bit. “Morning…” He made his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing the last three eggs and the few slices of bacon they still had left. Then, cracking