It had been 8 years now. Not much has changed, really. I’d been growing, obviously- my memory issues were long a thing of the past. I’d regained control of all my… faculties… God, I still cringe over that. I’d stopped going to school with Mamma and eventually started homeschooling myself. I mean, shit. Not like there’s anything better to do.

Meanwhile, Mamma long since graduated high school and moved on to college- says she plans to make something of herself. Says she wants to be a doctor- good for her, in all honesty. In retrospect, I probably could’ve become a surgeon or something to satisfy my apparent bloodlust. Hah, yeah right.

And as for Gramma… Well, it doesn’t matter. I never really got too attached to her in the same way I did with Mamma. I mean, she does love us, that much is evident, but… most of the time she's so drunk she's barely functional. I have the feeling that if shit hits the fan, she’d prioritize the liquor over us.

Anyways, my birthday was a week ago. Today, I was just out and about, lazily flying around the city. And lemme tell you; flying has to be the coolest shit ever! I was zooming around in the sky, cloak flapping in the wind, doing all sorts of flips and barrel rolls, narrowly avoiding(mostly) other fliers and obstacles. It was midday, and the skies were abuzz with griffons flying about- as well as a couple pegasi.

Looking at the crowd of fliers, I found what I was looking for: some schmuck with a sack of gold hanging loosely off his hip.

Wait, that sounded wrong. To put it bluntly, I was gonna pickpocket him.

Oh come on, am I really the asshole here? I’m just some kid looking to buy herself lunch. Not that we didn’t have the food at home, of course. But pickpocketing someone while flying at high speeds?

Fun as fuck.

Flying past the guy, I lightly grazed his side.

“Hey, watch it!” he yelled as I flew away- but I had already won. I flew around for a bit before finding a park bench to settle at.

“Now, what have we got here?” I mumbled to myself as I opened the drawstring, counting out a solid 30 bits. Not enough to make me rich, but enough to pay for a couple lunches at least. But that’s not what this would be going towards, no siree. Well, I still was gonna get food, my stomach reminded me. Just something quick and cheap.

There was a pawnshop with a piece in particular that I’d been interested in for awhile. A short steel dagger- perfect for either stabbing or slashing- and one which I could easily conceal under my cloak. I don’t know why I felt the urge to buy it- I’d all but sworn off going back to running hits- but it just felt comfy to me. It’s like walking around the house without clothes on- Yeah, it’s perfectly acceptable, but unless I’m blind drunk it just feels wrong.

Well, as a human, anyway. Clothing is very much optional in this society. I only wore the cloak because the black fabric and gold hemming looks great on me and I refuse to go without pockets.

I put the dagger into the saddlebags concealed by my cloak and spotted my next target.

Or smelled, rather.

“Vito!” I yelled and waved to the local vendor. The old man spotted me and waved back with a warm smile, and my heart sank; he was packing up to go home. He noticed my expression immediately.

“Aww, what’s got you lookin so glum?” I approached the stand and my stomach rumbled.

“Not even gonna lie, I was gettin hyped for one of your porchetta sandwiches. I take it you're all sold for the day?” To my surprise, he gave a hearty laugh.

“Ehh, I’d knew you’d be around, Lee-” he opened his cart back up and pulled out a perfectly done porchetta sandwich wrapped in foil. My eyes lit up in anticipation and my stomach, once again, demanded input.

“Ayy, I’ve been dyin’ for one of these!” My grin threatened to split my face when I asked-

“How much I owe?” Vito just waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“Bah, it’s on the house, kid. Best I can do for my most loyal customer!” he gave a hearty laugh, as he often does- the jolly old man.

“You’re the best, Vito. Seriously.” I took a bite of my sandwich and immediately nodded my approval. It was a simple meal- chopped porchetta and two slices of fresh bread. But the meat, bursting with flavor from the herbs, spices, and smoking process made it feel like my taste buds were having an orgasm.

Christ, imagine if I was brought back as a pony- I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this stuff! I shudder to imagine living my life on a diet of fruits, vegetables, grain, and flowers. I’d probably snap.

After inhaling my lunch, I noticed him having trouble throwing the bag of bits on his cart.

“Hold on, Vito, lemme give you a hand with that stuff. It’s the least I can do.” He smiled and nodded, and I threw the bag of coins onto my back and wondered why we haven’t moved on to paper money yet.

“You really give an old man hope for the future generations. Never change that about you.” And of course, Vito was hardly a stranger. Gramma used to drink with him a lot before he sobered up, and she’d bring me along occasionally.

We made our way back to his place, with him having hitched up the cart behind him- which was a lot lighter than you’d think.

What, did you really think I was gonna rob him? I’m not a fucking animal. Just an opportunist.

Thankfully the trek wasn’t long. I set the loot down in the living room and used my cloak to wipe the sweat off my brow. I heard the creek of his chair, him having wasted no time at all to relax.

“Murial, I’m home!” he yelled. Murial, or Auntie as I called her, yelled in response-

“I’ll be out in a minute, dear!”

I looked over to Vito. “Hey, mind if I hang out for a bit?” He nodded with a warm smile and I wasted no time in hanging up my pack and cloak, hopping up onto the ancient couch.

The kitchen door swung open, revealing an older looking woman.

“How was to- Oh my!” she noticed me immediately and rushed in for a hug as though I would disappear if she didn’t reach me on time.

“Hey auntie!” She kissed me on the cheek and took a seat next to me.

“You’ve grown since I last saw you! How old are you now?” she tilted her head in curiosity.

“Eight years old!” I answered pridefully, as though it were an achievement worth noting. It’s odd, really- I had the mentality of a kid, but the cold and calculating intelligence of a fully grown psychopath.

We basically spent awhile making small talk and shooting the shit until Vito asked a particular question.

“How’s… How’s Gramma doing?” On an unrelated note, everyone seems to call her Gramma. eight years and I still don’t know her real name. Back on topic, my grin shrank a little.

“Not so good, these days. The liquor’s really been taking its toll, and I can tell.” I took a sip from the glass of apple juice Auntie gave me earlier and continued- “At this point, I’m afraid that she’s in too deep. If the booze doesn’t get her, the withdrawals definitely will. Remember how bad yours were? You at least didn’t start boozing until the afternoon.” I let out a sigh.

“And in all honesty, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her not drunk.” It really was a shame. Auntie spoke up next-

“Well if anything… I hope that teaches you a good lesson about the dangers of alcohol. I mean, look at her- she’s only in her 60s and looks 30 years older than that.”

“True that-” I replied- “You gotta wish her the best, but… but sometimes, you gotta prepare for the worst, you know?” I took another swig of juice and Vito said-

“That’s… very mature for someone your age.” I just shrugged. Murial pitched in-

“Ohh, enough of this sad conversation! We oughta celebrate life while it’s still around.” she gave me a warm smile and asked “how’s your mother doing?”

“Doing great, more or less-”

And we just chatted and chilled out until it was getting a bit late. So, I bid my farewell- after all, Ma would be home soon. I tossed on my cloak and bag and headed home- but not before once again expressing my thanks.

Besides that, it was almost time for dinner! My stomach growled in anticipation, wondering what Gramma made to eat tonight. It was pretty routine- I’d spend the day out and about the city and make it just in time for dinner. I hope she made hot sausage…

My stomach growled in anticipation as I opened the door- and felt an odd sense of deja vu.

“I’m home!” I yelled out… and received no answer. I felt a pit form in my stomach.

“Mamma?” I yelled out, looking into the kitchen- no one was there. Next I tried Grammas room- and found no one.

I looked at the room that Mother and I shared. My hand trembled fiercely as I reached for the knob- I just didn’t want to open it. I didn’t want to know what awaited me- whether it be Mamma or another hastily scrawled note.

Then I heard a sound that was music to my ears- the front door! I bolted down the stairs like a madwoman and threw myself at my mother.

“Mamma! Where’ve you been?” but my smile fell when I looked at her face. Her red and puffy eyes had indicated she’d been crying for quite awhile. She lead me over to the couch and told me to sit down with her. I pulled her in for a hug.

“It’s Gramma, isn’t it?”

I did my best to comfort Mamma. I just felt relieved that I hadn’t been abandoned again.

For the last 8 years, I’d been living the good life.

I was just about to get a reminder of how easily it can all be taken away.

The plot thickens- despite Gramma being relatively unimportant to Leona, she'll soon find out exactly what the ancient tippler actually did for her and her mother.

After all: You don't know what you have until it's gone.

As always, thank you for reading! Likes and comments are encouraged and appreciated greatly :3