Oliver's POV

"Oliver, get me another scotch," Dad yelled from the top of the stairs.

His wrinkled clothes and breath reeked of alcohol. Then again, that's all he consumed. The moments where Dad was content and kept his temper in check were long gone. When this first began, I tried my hardest to keep his health in check. He used to assure me that he had it under control.

"Two more drinks won't hurt. I'll be sober enough to go to your eighth-grade graduation."

The worst part is that I believed him. When that day finally came, Dad was passed out on the couch. As usual, I held back the tears and went to collect my diploma alone. The back of my graduation robe dragged along the concrete as I walked to the church because I was too short for it. Parents crowded the double doors while siblings talked about bright futures. Some would become doctors or lawyers. A future I knew I wouldn't obtain.

"Who would guide me to success?"

I didn't blame Mom for leaving. However, Dad gave up on life without her. My hometown, Warthford, didn't encourage people to grow out of their bad habits. It stole any chance of hope in an already fragile environment. One false move and, suddenly, you're back to square one. Whatever future you dreamed of having, disappeared in the blink of an eye.

At fourteen years old, I dropped out of school. With too much free time on my hands, I began looking for interesting hobbies. Five miles away from my apartment house was an exhibition hall called Relaying Charm. It showcased everything from Picasso to new upcoming artists. Art didn't interest me, but the challenge did. The money I was able to sell them for didn't hurt either.

I was taking care of myself very well before stumbling upon the Sapphire Sea. It portrayed a young boy gazing wonderfully up at the inside walls of a cave that sparkled like tiny diamonds. The sun was setting behind him, casting a dark silhouette against the orange and yellow sky. In my eyes, this seized a simple and boring demeanor. Although, I remember the plaque underneath it read:

"It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light."

I scoffed at the quote before swiping the piece easily from its hook. Throughout the night, I couldn't get those words out of my head.

"Was it because my life had taken a dark turn and the realization came later?"

I decided to hide the painting securely under my bed while I took an empty portfolio case to the buyers. Guns were out of my price point, seeing as Dad spent the last paycheck on a strip club. I could only hope that hand to hand combat would suffice. The meeting point was an alley next to the run-down barber shop. Gripping the case tightly, I was afraid that the men would catch on to my scam.

"How could they unless I told them? Being a bad liar could get me killed."

Luckily, years of keeping a straight face wouldn't fail me now. As I entered the alley, a petite figure bumped into me. Light blonde hair was illuminated by the lamplight, but besides that, I couldn't make out her face.

"Watch where you're going," I warned hastily.

"I'm sorry," she managed in between choked sobs.

Once I realized she was upset I tried to cover my initial reaction, "Hey, I didn't mean to make you..."

It was too late. The girl hurried down the street before I was able to finish the sentence. Acting unfazed, I continued my business.

In and out, that's as far as I expected this encounter to go.