Ciel sat on the train, thin legs crossed as he flipped the pages of some Italian novel he had never heard of. He had asked the train attendant for something to read during the ride, and she had given him all she was able to find stowed away. The book, from the little he could decipher, told about the wonders of Italy (particularly in the summer season) and all of its gourmet restaurants and landmarks.
…why should he care? He was not going to Italy, it was not summertime, and sure as hell he was not eating anything even close to elegant. All he had by his side was a pack of saltine crackers and a water bottle someone had given him as a gift. The man next to him had passed out nearly a half hour ago after rambling on his cell phone to an unknown individual about his wife's failure to work three jobs, and he smelled heavily of sweat and liquor – but Ciel did not care all too much. He was far too used to all of this.
His father was a truly disgusting alcoholic, and that's why Ciel was here. That was why he had been racing from city to city for two years nonstop. That was why he led the life no one wanted to live.
It's just the usual now.
The blue-haired kid had been taught that this was the norm for families. Your parents get married, you are born, your father becomes a raging drunk, aaand you run away to get away from him the day you turn fourteen. Then you go to Las Vegas and work as a prostitute on the side of the streets until you are declared wanted by the cops but you're fourteen so what are you supposed to do? So you jump onto the first train you can find and spend the last of your money and here you are reading some Italian novel next to a drunken guy whose name you don't even know.
No, no. This can't be normal.
This just might be worse than Hell.