Page 8 of Little Sparrow

I creep through the foyer, ignoring the eyes on me from the portrait behind me and sneak toward the large doors to my fathers office. I kneel down and examine the first lock. I slide the lock-picking kit out of my pocket and put them in the keyhole and wiggle them around, listening for each click of the mechanism until it finally unlocks. I do it again on the second one. When that final click echoes through the house. I stay completely still, listening out, but still no one is coming. I quickly slide inside the door and close it softly. My eyes drift around the room. From the long sofa, the extra chairs, the bookshelf with the safe behind it all the way until my eyes reach his desk.

Rushing over on bare feet, I rifle through each drawer, not being careful of the things in there. I know I’m running out of time. I rip open the last drawer with impatience, but it doesn’t budge. I squat down and use the smallest picks on my kit and unlock it, I slowly open it and there are a few objects that don’t move. I pull on the biggest one, a stapler and of course, it reveals an extra bottom. Inside lies a black folder. No writing on it, just a silhouette of a bird, this could be it. Of course he wouldn’t label it with words.

I sit at the desk and take a deep breath with a smile. I need to know what I have to destroy. My hand trembles as I open it, I barely get a glance as the office door slams and my father stands there. His face starts to go red with anger. Shit.

“What are you doing?” He takes the long strides toward me, eyes flicking down to the folder in my hands. His body goes rigid at the sight of me holding the half opened documents.

“I need information on this project you want me working on, I can’t help you if I don’t know what it is.” I shrug, but press my lips together to stop me saying anything else as he rips the folder from my grip.

“You want to know?” He laughs without humour. “I’ll tell you. It’s the most important thing for this family. A weapon that can torture and kill without any of us even lifting a finger. Ripping out secrets from men in its presence. It’s dangerous and it will be mine.”

“We don’t need anything like that, you have always preferred doing it all yourself, what's changed, and why can’t you just tell me what it is?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest. I know I’m acting like a spoiled child, but this is dangerous, this isn’t drugs he’s trying to get hold of. It’s something far more terrifying and I need to prepare myself for whats to come.

“Because you are too much like your mother, once you take over, will you be able to be ruthless, kill whenever it has to be done? Get your own hands dirty, or would you prefer watching it happen. With Antonio or Gabriele as your right hand man, you won’t need to do anything. Just sit back and letitdo the work.”

I clench my fists in my lap. “You don’t think I can take over without help from a weapon.” I chuckle and shake my head. “You don’t know much about me at all. Do you even know how to use it? How big is it, will it even fit inside the basement?” I raise my hands in frustration.

“It will fit here easily. It’s small. And we are so close to getting it. Stay out of my way and you’ll find out as soon as it is here. Then, andonlythen, will I teach you how to bend it any way you want.” He rushes over to the office door and opens it. “Now get the fuck out of here and stick to the rules. I don’t want to find you here again without me requesting you here. Understand?”

With my jaw clenched so tight, my teeth are threatening to crack under the pressure, I stand with enough force to knock the chair back against the wall and storm to the door, but stop just before I pass through.

“How did you know I was in here?” I ask, he gives me a look that asks if it’s a serious question and shakes his head.

“It was stupid of you to assume that I don’t have silent alarms when it comes to my best projects.” Then he slams the door in my face, the hard wood only millimetres away from my nose. Bastard.

At least I know it isn’t big. It can torture. I can imagine it being bulletproof, so I’d need to get close without getting myself killed. I need a back up plan. And another one after that.

My father ignored me the rest of the day, I got frustrated and went out on my bike at sunset, needing the air. Antonio and Gabriele might get in trouble for letting me leave the estate alone, but the guard at the gate isn’t doing his job very well either. I think my father is being paranoid, maybe this Sparrow doesn’t even exist and it’s all rumours? I haven’t even been able to speak to my mother privately. Maria pops up everytime I see her, or my mother just stays in the library. She loves that library, I think it’s the only thing keeping her sane from being locked up in the estate. There are things to do here, but it’s only a matter of time before my fathers paranoia gets worse and she can’t leave.

I stop the bike and kick the stand, finding myself at a cliff edge. The view from here is beautiful, especially when no other people are around. I found this spot a few years ago, now I just come here when the house is too much. I haven’t told a soul about this place, and I don’t think I ever will. My future wife won’t be able to find me when I need peace from her. I can just imagine the type of girl they will arrange me with. A girl with good genes, looks and brains to back me up if I ever decided I would like her involved with a project.

I sit on the cliff edge and let my feet dangle off, the crashing ocean on the rocks beneath me soothing my soul. I could stay here forever if given the choice. A small house with a wife of my choosing, no duties and no pressure of children in my life.

Just serenity.

There is only one other place I am getting that type of peace now, and it might not last much longer, with a sigh and promise to myself to come back here when I can next slip away. I jump back on my bike and head home. A heaviness setting inside as I pass through the black iron gates.

The dreams are what is keeping me sane right now, this girl in front of me. This morning I was caught in the office with my father’s files. It had gotten more tense while we were in the same room, he became more secretive and the files were burnt in the fireplace in the library. It’s the fucking summer, we don’t need a fire. He just wanted to prove a point that all evidence can be gotten rid of, he’s beginning to question my loyalty. Fuck.

I sat at that cliff edge for hours just staring out into the ocean, supper was tense, none of us spoke to each other. We could have choked on the tension filling the room.

Now I’m here. Smiling as though the day had barely happened.

I watch my angel as she runs around the room with a huge grin. She has been curious how big it is, wanting to know if she can change anything. Rose is the highlight of my life right now.

After I saw she had been in a car accident, I realised how worried I actually had been, that I cared about what happened to her. Looking at her now, she looks fine, it’s as though nothing had happened.

When she finally comes back to me, she is barely out of breath, eyes sparkling with wonder. “It’s huge here, I mean there are the walls we come through, but everything else, it’s just open. The walls are practically doors. This is limitless.” She smiles and it lights me up inside. Her arms spread and she spins around. Her hair flowing behind her. The bright smile permanently on her face. Yeah, definitely Angelic.

“So do you think you can do it? Turn it into something else?” I ask, her nose scrunches up in thought.

“I have no idea how to,” She looks up at me. Damn she's tiny, I feel like a giant next to her, I hadn’t realised before. I can’t help but check her out all over, seeing her covered in blood last night scared me more than I had expected it too, but she has no marks on her body. Her skin is perfect. I reach up to her hairline where the biggest wound was and stroke along it, nothing.

“You’re okay now?” I ask, she furrows her brow, but she must realise I’m thinking about last night.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a scratch,” She laughs it off with a wave of her hand.

“It wasn’t just a scratch,” I tell her, nodding to her arm, “You were covered in blood. And tears.” Her eyes were puffy and red, I won’t tell her that though, any girl I know wouldn’t dare to be seen without being anything less than perfect. I like her real

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