Disclamer:I do not owe these characters, only the story
Red old door
"Lenalee! Lenalee!"
Seeing that door, who brought her so many memories, that door that red old door, whose paint was now falling trough the floor, whose had been new only ten years ago, when she moved in. Moved into a castle, into a fairy tail, a tail of blood, death and loss, many would dream of it but not want it. She did neither. She was forced into that world, although she was already eighteen, no one would let her leave. The girl was forced in for a reason; reason this she didn't knew it was somewhere deep in her being, her soul. No one would have the time or the will to try to explain what it was, she herself wouldn't be too much curious, to much of curiosity would drive people to dark paths. But she was old enough now to face those paths, if no one there would explain her to herself, she would look for explanations somewhere else, although she was still in high school, a young life, she was determinated to find the truth, but not only, she was an ambitious girl she wanted to find freedom, freedom to dream and after dreaming, to walk, yes, to walk. That was the reason she was now facing that red door, the same door that would reunite many and many records; pieces, very small pieces of her young existence. The door that saw her first kiss, her first real smile of joy, her daily face, all of her disasters when she would run away from them into the yard, that door saw her cries, of joy, but also of deep sadness. But all that was about to be forgotten; not the feelings, but the door. She kicked it hard with intent of opening it, and a door, like an old friend opened gently, but with no excitation, and she would walk away never looking back.
Like she did
A Walker walks
"Allen! Allen ya' bastard!"
Mentor was not a father far from it. The boy dreamed for long that it could be the kind of relation that is built with time, quality time spent together with is mentor. Maybe it was, he could never discover, tough of the fact that they would never spent quality time together, the only time they would spend together was when either is mentor was drunk or was kicking him so he would pay his enormous debts. His mentor loved women, booze, and game, all of them would drive him to the same road, huge debts; debts we wouldn't pay, and would order to be pay by his "slave". The boy would daily face some of those people, and the poor teen would have to pay them, by working, gambling or being kicked or punched, the client owes always the reason. The boy grew strong he was now eighteen well feed by work years, he knew this life for ten years now, not a happy life, not a joyful life, not even near. He was by now sick of it. The boy was now trying to have dinner, a failed attempt tough, he had his mentor by his side, he was drunk, very drunk, and the boy was starting the be annoyed, so he grabbed his Timcampy tight between his two hands and decided to leave, not to only leave the room, but also to leave his mentor forever, it could seem cruel, but no it was freeing for the boy. It wasn't a last minute decision he had planed it for a long time, he wouldn't go alone; he had seen a girl, the girl looked trapped into a life she didn't love, like him, the difference; she was surrounded by friends, people that might love her or not, but either ways she wasn't happy and it was painful to watch someone you love suffer, tough he never really talked to her he knew who she was, a kind, creative, sensitive, kind of rebel beautiful girl, the girl. The same he wanted to share his life with, although he was still a high school student he was very determinate and focused boy in his ideals, not an easy quitter. That was why he was now facing the empty street, only with a bag pack on, his hoodie and jacket, and his only friend Timcampy. Ready to walk to that red door. Where the girl lived to go get her, convince her of his love and dream with her, not of her.
And so he walked