Welcome to Venice, Talia thought bitterly, the city of peeling paintings, creepy sculptures and fat pigeons that crap on you during flight.

The sixteen-year-old was sitting on a bench at the edge of a marketplace, banging her head against the ancient brick wall behind her. How long had she been sitting here for, with her long legs propped up on her large suitcase? She twisted a curly piece of her dark chocolate colored hair around her finger and pulled out of frustration; she kind of liked the tingling pain on her scalp. When her eyes started watering too much, she stopped and let go of her hair only to grab a folded letter out of her pocket. She had read it so many times she practically knew it off by heart, but she read it anyways.

Talia, it read,

You have no idea how much I'm going to miss you this summer. One month in Venice is way too long! But hey, it's Venice! I'm sure you'll have a fantastic time. It's supposed to be amazing there and I'm so jealous of all the adventures you'll probably have… even if you just staying with your grandma who you've never met. Are you sure she doesn't speak English? If so, I'm sure you'll have some funny stories to tell me when you get home. Take loads of pictures and send them to me. Stay positive and you'll fall in love with the city just like everyone else does.

Love you loads,

Jillian

The letter made Talia smile – Jillian was like the sister she never had. They were complete opposites but had been close ever since the second grade. Jillian was short and curvy with blonde hair and soft features. She was probably one of the kindest, most positive people Talia had ever met, which made it even stranger that they were so close because Talia definitely had a wicked side to her.

Talia herself was tall and skinny with pale skin and freckles across her nose. Her dark hair was large and curly and sometimes made her look like a poodle. Then her almond-shaped eyes, which were so dark you could hardly see the pupil, were coated with thick, brown eyelashes that always made it look like she was wearing too much mascara.

She desperately wanted to call Jillian and tell her that she may as well go home because her grandma had yet to show up, but of course, her cell didn't work in Venice. Letting out a tiny groan as she stuffed her cell back into her purse, Talia looked up to see a tiny woman walking towards her. She was taking impossibly small steps, but Talia didn't bother to get up.

The woman's face was shriveled by wrinkles and her breasts practically sagged to her waist. She grunted as she approached Talia. Ever so slowly, the woman lifted her hand and pointed at Talia's face.

"Talia?" she snapped loudly for her size and age.

"Er… yes." She then nodded, remember that the woman probably didn't speak English.

The woman than pointed at herself and muttered, "Grandma. Come."

Talia jumped to her feet and realized that her grandma hardly reached her shoulder she was so small. She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and began dragging it behind her as she followed the withered woman. The only sounds were the wheels noisily bouncing on the cobblestone streets and Grandma muttering to herself in Italian.

Talia rolled her dark eyes. This was even worse than she thought it would be.

"So is she nice?"

Talia was unpacking in her new room while talking to Jillian over the phone, which was wedged between her ear and shoulder as to leave her hands free to fold.

"Well she speaks even less English than I thought she would," she told Jillian, "I mean it took twenty minutes just to ask if I could use her phone, but no, she's not nice at all. She's a wrinkled prune who doesn't want me here as much as I don't want to be here."

"Oh Talia…" Jillian replied softly, "I'm sure things will improve. It's just your first day."

"I don't even want to be here!" Talia suddenly snapped. She hated whining, but she couldn't help it. "It's just so unfair for my parents to ship me off for a month without even letting me have a say. They want me to miss out on my valuable summer so I can do nothing in Venice? I just… I just hate it!"

"Have you talked to your parents since you arrived?" asked Jillian. Her smooth voice instantly calmed Talia down, but she couldn't help let out a sharp laugh.

"Of course I haven't called them. They're the last people I want to talk to right now. Maybe I won't call them for a whole week, and they'll be so worried and angry when I do call that they'll make me come home."

Jillian gasped. "Don't do that! You wouldn't really do that to them, would you Tal?"

Talia shook her head and chuckled to herself. "No Jillian, I won't really do that. I'll call them tomorrow."

There was a pause and Talia would hear Jillian yawning on the other end. "Hey what time is it in Venice anyways?"

"No idea," Talia replied, "but you sound tired. I'll let you go. I'll talk to you later, 'kay?"

"Okay. Love ya Tal."

"Love ya to, Jillian." And with that, Talia hung up the phone. She took a deep breath through her nose and let the air escape from her mouth. She glanced out the window to see the Venice sky had been replaced by a blanket of black. Talia really didn't have any idea what time it was, but she did know that she wasn't tired.

Hopping down stairs, Talia found Grandma sitting in the living room, watching some Italian soap opera. Feeling nervous around the old hag, she nervously knocked on the doorframe to get her attention. Grandma muttered in her language as she turned to face her granddaughter.

"I'm going for a walk," Talia said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully. She pointed to the door and then mimicked feet walking with her fingers. Grandma shrugged and yelled something loudly in Italian and waving her arms for Talia to go. This gave Talia the idea that she pretty much had the freedom to do whatever she wanted.

If only there was something she actually wanted to do…

It was impossible to lie to herself any longer. Venice truly was beautiful a beautiful city. Talia walked around aimlessly, crossing bridges over canals and walking down narrow, nameless streets. The buildings seemed to get older and older wherever she went, and it amazed her how they could still stand.

The lights that had been lighting up the sidewalk slowly vanished, and soon Talia was walking by the light of the moon. It didn't bother her that she was probably lost, because being lost in an unknown city was probably the most exciting thing that could happen to her. Besides, she had a pretty good memory. If she really tried she could probably remember her way back to Grandma's.

Eventually, Talia sat down at the edge of a canal, letting her long legs hang over the edge. It was a warm night, but an eerie feeling made her shudder. Nervously glancing over her shoulder, she reached into her pocket to pull out Jillian's letter once again. She hardly had a chance to open it though, because a shadow was appeared on top of her. As Talia turned around, the letter was suddenly snatched from her hands.

"Hey!" she yelled as she caught sight of a boy run away from her. In an instant, Talia was on her feet and chasing after him. "Hey!" she yelled again. That was her letter. She needed it if she was ever going to survive a place as old and boring as Venice; it was to remind her of home.

Talia's long legs were an advantage for her, and she was catching up to the boy pretty fast. The thief took a sharp turn and she followed him right into an alleyway. She stopped at the mouth of the alleyway, breathing hard. The boy had been swallowed by shadows, making it impossible to see him, but Talia knew she had him trapped.

"You have nowhere to go," she tried to sound fierce, but a tiny wave of nervousness escaped her mouth as well, "stop hiding already." She paused. Only silence responded. "What do you want with a letter anyways?"

There was moment of hesitation before a boy suddenly emerged from the dark. He stopped a few feet away from Talia and she sucked in her breath at his appearance. He couldn't have been older than twelve, with dirty blonde hair and dark circles below his large eyes. His cheeks were hollow and his tattered pants were just holding on to his bony hips. His dirty feet were shoeless and in his left hand was the letter. The boy might have been cute-looking in a twelve-year-old way if he weren't staring at Talia so harshly.

"I thought it was money or something." He said quietly.

Talia hesitated before asking, "Can I have it back please? It's kind of important to me and is really no use to you."

Taking a deep breath, the boy took a few more steps towards Talia and handed her back the letter. She could only whisper thanks as the boy dropped his eyes. For a terrifying moment, Talia thought he would burst into tears.

"What does the letter say?" he finally asked, "I could only read some of it?"

Talia nodded slowly as she glanced down at the letter and read it aloud. She probably could have read it off by heart, but she needed an excuse to look away from the boy. When she was done, Talia folded the letter slowly into her pocket.

Another long silence followed, and Talia couldn't help but wonder why the boy didn't run off. She was wondering if maybe it had to do with the fact that she was standing at the mouth of the alleyway, and he was waiting for her to move aside. If this was the case, Talia decided she didn't want to move.

"I'm Talia," she finally said, "what's your name?"

"Bo." He kept his eyes to the ground as he spoke.

"Bo…" she repeated his name slowly, "Where do you live, Bo?"

At this, Bo lifted his head up to look at Talia. His face seemed to lighten slightly, as if being struck by an idea. "I can show you," he told her. With that, he walked right past Talia, letting his arm lightly brush her own and almost with a magnetic pull, Talia began to follow him.