Chapter One
Lucifer let the warm water of the shower rush down his face then fall down his back and chest. Snatching a weathered bar of yellow soap—at the stage where it was waxy and small and squished between your fingers when you used it—he ran it against his side. Suddenly, he heard frantic bangs from the outside of the bathroom door, the dins strangled slightly by the billowing steam in the cramped bathroom.
"Hurry it up, orphan!" called the patronizing Sister Margaret. "Your five minutes of washing are up; other orphans need to use it, too!"
"Why can't she ever call us by our real names…?" he thought. "The only reason that crooked, raisined hag is still here is because her great grandmother founded the orphanage. I'll be just a second!" he called out, the steam and the water's roar drowning him out.
Putting down the soap that molded around his fingers, and then twisting the tarnished knob right—the sound of the water lashing the floor halting—he stepped out of the tub. Even with the sound of the shower off, Sister Margaret kept pounding her fists against the door.
"Hurry, orphan, hurry, we don't have five years!"
"Hopefully you'll be dead by then…Why can't she just shut up and leave me alone?" Lucifer reached to the counter, grabbing the frayed towel and wrapping it tightly around his waist. "At least I am leaving soon…" he muttered, trusting the humidity in the room to keep his words from reaching the other side of the door.
Lucifer looked into the clouded-up mirror and rubbed a spot clean, looking into it. Peering back at him were the perfectly set, hazel eyes of his father and the thick, golden, cow-licked hair of his mother. Lucifer was always told as a very small child he was the 'spit' of his parents, smiling on the outside but resenting it on the inside—he wanted nothing to do with either of his parents and didn't want to end up like them, not even appearance-wise.
His father was an insincere coward and his mother a corrupt liar—even though at times Lucifer missed his parents and wondered what was going on in their lives, the grudge of what they had done to him was branded into his brain.
In fact, Lucifer hated his whole family, all of them incompetent of caring for a child. Like a collectable object, Lucifer was traded from distant family member to distant family member, godparent to godparent, and guardian to guardian. Every one of them abandoned Lucifer on the excuses of homicide, suicide, and negligence; like a dark cloud of oppression and despair loomed over Lucifer's head and stalked him everywhere he went, he was not able to be raised. It got to the point where Lucifer had run out of willing family members and adoptees; he was then carelessly thrown into a poverty-stricken cesspool dubbed, St. Shrunk's Orphanage.
Lucifer twisted the handle of the bathroom door and walked out, Sister Margaret stood there with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, her shape unflattering and brick-like within the black dress, the one she always wore.
"What do you think you're doing?!" she spat.
"What do you mean what am I doing? Stupid wench."
"Taking up extra time in the shower! Water is money and money you don't have!" sneered Sister Margaret, the wispy, numerous hairs on her upper-lip flew up and down, as if living, breathing creatures groping desperately.
"Gross, take a razor to that thing. I needed a little extra time for my special day," Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes and closing the door to his bunk room, leaving Margaret in a permanent cross scowl.
Lucifer thought his room—and his life in fact—was terribly drab and depressing, walking in and facing the truth he would be leaving today, made him hope this was the last time he would ever have to see this room again.
The walls were coated in a choppy, beige paint, which chipped in many spots. Along with the paint, dents decorated the walls, too. Two beds on either side of the room, both only small enough to fit one person. The beds had a down-filled blanket and a single, flat pillow. Besides this, there was a mirror hung on the back of the door and two wardrobes, one for Lucifer and one for Lucifer's roommate—Moe. In his roommate's bed was a lump, the cat who he shared the room with was sluggish so it was normal for him to be out cold in the middle of the day. He found it odd, though, he was not snoring throatily as he usually did from the moment slumber hit at night to the time he awakes in the afternoon—or morning, depending on if they're woken early for some reason.
Lucifer exhaled a deep sigh, and then looked on the bright side; at least he was starting a new life, away from the dragged-out tragedy he lives in now. After giving himself a thorough dry, he dropped the towel and went to his wardrobe and took out his clothes.
There was a rapping at his door, it was opening docilely and on the other side was the comforting voice of Sister Bethany. Sister Bethany—unlike Margaret—was a pleasant woman and maybe the only thing about the orphanage he would ever miss. Sister Bethany was considerate and took after Lucifer when he first got transported to the orphanage at the tender age of eight. Always treating him better than the other children, Bethany would slip him extra jell-o at dinner and read him stories before bed—never fairytales… Lucifer had always hated those.
If this was obvious favoritism over him or if it was that she pitied him, Lucifer wasn't too sure, but it was the only form of love he had as a child and he loved her back, though he was poor at expressing it.
"Lucifer… sweetheart… are you ready to leave? Your taxi is waiting by the steps," she called into the room, peeking her head through the crack.
Immediately, Lucifer dropped his clothes and threw the towel around him in frenzy, he felt his cheeks burn up and taint red. "Almost, Sister…" he replied back awkwardly, fumbling the towel around his waist.
"Oh, Lucifer, no need to be embarrassed, it's nothing I haven't seen before," she teased from back behind the door. "Get dressed quickly; I want to talk to you." Lucifer heard her say followed by the clicking of his door closing.
"I'll put on my nicest clothes…" he thought, "Not like I have any 'nice' clothes anyway."
Once dressed, Lucifer rubbed the towel briskly across his hair, just to finish drying it off. He searched briefly the naked room for his suitcase, he couldn't find it; he went out the door to find Sister Bethany, with the intentions of asking her where it was.
"There you are, Lucifer!" he heard her cry from behind him.
He turned to face her, "Hi, Sister."
"Congratulations on finally being old enough to leave, I am so proud off you!" she cried, thrilled and threw her arms over Lucifer.
"That's a first…Thanks, Sister… it means a lot, everything you've done for me over the years."
"I cannot believe you're finally sixteen! It seems like just a while ago I was chasing you around the orphanage trying to get you in bed!" Bethany stopped hugging Lucifer and clasped her hands on his shoulders.
"Those times are over."
"Well… you should be off, the taxi driver seems a tad impatient… we'll keep in touch, Saturday nights I'll call you, just to make sure you're not into anything. Sound like a deal?"
Lucifer nodded compassionately and gave her another quick hug.
"This place will definitely be different without that beaming smile o' yours…" Bethany teased, popping Lucifer's collar before flattening it back down, fixing what ever was wrong with it before.
"Rest assured you're the only person I'll miss in this hellhole, Sister. I am looking forward, kind of, to starting a new life… you know?"
"Oh, yes, just remember to be accepting"—she stressed the word, a sparkle of accusation in her eyes—"you'll nab more flies with honey than vinegar!"
He rolled his eyes, half-jokingly, half-not. "It's catch, not nab, and that saying is so stupid."
The fire of a car horn came stampeding down the hallway, meeting their ears.
"Excellent, I can tell already the ride there will be a fun one."
Their gaze at each other before locked; Lucifer severed it as he began to walk down the hallway, feinting away from Bethany.
"Oh! Lucifer, I almost forgot!" she spoke, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. "Your suitcase, I packed it this morning. It's mandatory for us to include 1,000 bells when our children leave. I saved up some additional cash over the years… and tucked away little bits of my salary, don't tell, but you'll find 20,000 bells in the very bottom of your suitcase… don't be foolish and spend it all in one place though, you're not an indulgent guy, so you have my faith." Bethany told Lucifer, holding his hand tightly.
Lucifer was a bit blown away by her generosity, never had Lucifer had so much money all his life. "I cannot thank you enough, Sister… I owe you my sanity."
Bethany smiled and lovingly slapped Lucifer's arm. "Go on you… have fun and be careful out there. I know you know this more and me, but life is tough… this orphanage has been rocky, but there are some real lunatics out there, ones you best space yourself from."
Lucifer gave her the final hug and a gentlemanly kiss to the cheek. Allowing his lips to trail from her fair skin, he began walking down the long hallway, to the porch. He was so concentrated on enjoying his new life, and all he could hear the long walk down was the erratic clicking off his holey shoes hitting the floor until:
"I love you, Lucifer…"
Lucifer was now in the porch, he paused and hesitated. He could not see Bethany now, but he could feel her almost forlorn presence in the hallway, her entire figure breathless, lingering for Lucifer's response. All he could see was the very porch which was the opening of his miserable childhood. He was flooded with memories, none of them pleasant, whirring slightly, Lucifer became genuinely flustered.
He cringed, grinding his teeth, the handle of his suitcase growing clammy beneath his fist.
"Can I really love you…?"
Lucifer solemnly walked out the door and down the cobblestone steps, toward the brown taxi that had its horn blaring obnoxiously, leaving Bethany desolate and waiting.