Hey again! I've been pretty consistent with these uploads, haven't I? I won't say much, because not much has happened in the last 24 hours (Other than the fact that I saw my first ever thunderstorm. It never rains where I live, so such a spectacle was bloody incredible), so I'll get straight to the chapter. Leave a review when you're done, please. In the meantime, enjoy!


Eight was the age of forgetfulness

Life must have been quite drunk right now, but no-one really knew why.

Nico knew he was eight and that he must have done something when he was alive, but he just couldn't remember what. The most he could conjure in his mind was a deafening explosion and some very pale man bending over him and murmuring something in Italian- Ti amo, mia Nico- I love you, my Nico. Then said man touched his forehead and he fell asleep. And that was about it.

Normally Nico would have been frustrated, angry, and impatient, even, but when he woke up the day after his memory loss, he wasn't hiding with Bianca (One of the few things he remembered) under a bridge, trying to avoid looking at the two men making out just a few feet away (Bianca was trying to find a safe place for them through the subway system).

Nope, he was in complete heaven. He was inside a giant room on a mattress softer than velvet, with a walk-in-closet and an incredibly large bathroom across from him. There was some strange cold box thing (A baby fridge?) next to his bed, that was full of colorful metal cylinders and some packed snacks (Though what type of snack was called M&M's, he had no idea). The clothes in his closet were also weird- some of them were the jackets and sailor suits he knew, and others were short sleeved cotton shirts without so much as a collar on them, with random pictures and stuff drawn on them. The pants were weird as well- some rough blue or black material that looked like trousers. He liked it, though. It was a nice change.

One hour later, he met Bianca, who had said the same things. She took his hand and they went downstairs, determined to get to the bottom of this. Instead, they were seperated by the enormous crowd and Nico found himself in front of a tall metal box with a transparent part that looked over a picture- and the picture was moving. Nico had heard of that legendary thing, the television, but his family was nowhere near rich enough to consider buying one. They had to contend with gloomily watching them on sale behind shop windows. How rich were the owners here?

But even better, the pictures weren't just moving- they were in colour. Not the boring old black and white that made it hard to discern what was going on. No, actual, real, beautiful colour. He asked someone what it was called and they looked at him weird and said it was a video game. He had a cute little character and had to use the buttons and knobs and little levers to move it around and do stuff. After initially struggling, Nico got the hang of it and started going mad. When he'd exhausted all the possibilities, he went to the next game. And the next. And the next. He went sliding andndnd bungee jumping a couple times as well, but those video game things were definitely his favorite. He didn't ask where Bianca went or what she did. She must have been having fun too. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was a little alarmed at not seeing her for so long, but every time he even entertained the idea of searching for her some brand new game came up, and he thought after this one. Besides, his sister came to the room every night looking happier than before. Sure, they never talked or even acknowledged each other's presence anymore, but there were other, more important things to do.

And so began a month long blur that never seemed to end.

In retrospect, they probably should have asked where they were, or worried about how drunk everyone looked, or tried to find out who they and their parents were. But their worries were swallowed up in the hotel- and soon, their entire conscience was too.

It is hard to remember your responsibilities when you're surrounded by distractions, after all. No one eats salad if they're offered ice cream, and Bianca and Nico certainly wouldn't be the ones to break that rule. If anything, they happily lived through it for what they didn't know would be, oh, the next seventy years.


So, yeah, here it is! I'm so sorry that it's so short, I just couldn't find much to add to this chapter. However, the next, and all the ones after that, will be a lot longer. That I can promise. Thanks for reading!