༻ ⚘ ༺ prologue ────────────── ❝ WHAT CAN NOT BE SAID, WILL BE WEPT ❞
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The streets of Hell's Kitchen carried a pungent stench of rotted food, urine and blood. It's appearance wasn't the most welcoming, but neither were it's citizens. The sparse population it had was mostly made up of; junkies, thieves, and the occasional young couple whom made the unpopular decision of moving into one of its many run down apartment buildings.
Despite this, Adriana had called Hell's Kitchen home for the last four years. After escaping her abusive father's grip, Adriana fled to the city — where her eldest brother, Oliver, resided — for a fresh start. She had secured a low-paying job at a small diner named, 'Dish and Dine' which was owned by an elderly hispanic woman.
"I'm leaving Meela, try not to stay here to late!" Shouted Adriana as she hooked her fingers around the string of her neutral coloured apron, tugging it loose from her body. Today hadn't been any different from the rest; she had darted from tabel to table — with her notepad and pen — taking orders as she tried to avoid the uncomfortable eyes of the middle aged men that lingered on her figure for too long.
Adriana slipped her arms into the sleeves of a black waterproof coat, instantly feeling the warmth the extra layer created. With that, she was ready to leave the diner and arrive home to one of her brothers "You're home late" statements.
As rain poured from the late-evening sky, Adriana wrapped her arms tighter around her figure; the hood of her coat doing no favours in keeping her hair from dampening. She had never minded working late, in fact she enjoyed the company of the elderly woman ( Meela ) but the early morning to late evening shifts were not helping Adriana's mental and physical exhaustion.
The walk to Oliver's apartment building was only brief — despite the heavy pouring of rain making it seem longer. Adriana stood outside, rummaging through her cheap leather handbag in hopes of finding her keys.
The flash of an unfamiliar car light caught her attention for only a second, its beams lighting up the street, before it left the pavement it had parked on and hastily drove away.
Adriana payed no attention to the uneasy feeling in her stomach and continued into the run down building; making sure to say a polite "hello" to the residents she passed in the hallways.
The wooden steps creaked beneath her boot as she climbed towards the fourth floor; unfortunately, for Adriana, the landlord of the building did not show an interest in calling somone to fix the broken down elevator — that was now forming a new layer of rust.
Adriana stalked towards her apartment door, the only light sorce in the slim hallway being a old, yellow-toned ceiling light which flickered every few seconds. Reaching for the door's wobbly handle she paused, her eyebrows furrowing. The door stood ajar, which wasn't normal, they had agreed to keep it constantly locked — an agreement that was set in place to avoid encountering one of the many monsteres that lurked the streets of Hells Kitchen.
