Lucky Star

[Anaximander]

Confined within the four walls of his tiny prison cell, Fredo felt the darkness creeping in on him. He had always been claustrophobic, but being here took it to a whole new level. And this was just the first day of the first year of his ten year sentence. The thought of it made him dizzy, he needed air but the tiny window in his cell did not allow any ventilation. He started to feel nauseous and hurled himself towards the toilet in the corner of his cell to vomit, but he never made it that far before passing out.

***'€Alfredo, Alfredo! Faster! Catch up, come on!'€ He was running through a narrow path in the Cardamine fields used by the slaves on the family'€™s farm. He was 11 years old and he was chasing his two half-brothers Carlos and Juan, aged 13 and 16. Alfredo was the youngest of the lot, his father was a former Rogue who made his wealth hauling Cardamine and had decided to settle down on Malta and enjoy a life in retirement. There he had met Alfredo'€™s mother, the widow of the great Hernán Pizarro '€“ a decorated hero of the Maltese Navy. Hernán, the father of Carlos and Juan, had died just the year before in a skirmish with Kusari Naval Forces and most of the community frowned upon his mother'€™s choice to re-marry so soon, and with an outsider. Alfredo knew little of this. He was busy trying to catch up with his brothers, running along on the narrow path in the fields. All of a sudden he slipped on the sandy soil and crashed off the path into the razor-sharp Cardamine grass. He could hear himself scream in pain, and feel the blood running down his arms. It was noon and the sun was baking down on him, the burning sensation of the sunrays in his fresh cuts was unbearable, but all of a sudden the sun was blocked and he felt the soothing comfort of shade. Looking up he could see the towering figure of his mother, she had come out of nowhere to help him, while she was scolding his brothers for playing in the fields when they should know better. She picked him up, and hanging on her shoulder while she was carrying him inside the house, he looked at his half-brothers standing there with looks of anger and frustration in their faces. They were bigger than him. Carlos was just two years older, but nearly two heads taller than Alfredo. In fact they looked nothing at all like him, they were both athletic and Alfredo was short and thin, and when he looked into their eyes he could see the way they looked at him, they knew he was different too. Inside the house his mother put him on a chair while she started to clean his cuts. '€œAlfredo, you are a very special boy. I have to take care of you and protect you, and make sure no harm will ever fall upon you. But I know that you are destined for something great. You were born under a lucky star.'€***

Fredo opened his eyes, blinking a few times. It was so dark, hard to see anything. But the smell'€¦ The smell! Quickly he sat up, and looked down on the pool of vomit where his head had just been. Barely six hours in prison, no way would he last 10 years of this. He had to get out.