I have such a shitty life, and it's all my fault.

Years have passed, and I'm still not sure what Carmine meant when he stated, "I have a shitty life," and that it's all my fault. Of course, there are things in my life that I could do better, but who isn't? Although I'm not hesitant to express my dissatisfaction with the direction my life is taking, I don't need somebody to tell me that it's all my fault or that it's "shitty." Like everyone else, I've encountered difficulties, and I'm working hard to get past them and build a brighter future for myself.

And speaking of the devil, his grating voice echoed through my head once more. It's a true statement that the devil appears when you are at your lowest moment in life.

"Sandra! You work here?" he exclaims. "I thought you were... well, dead."

His words hung in the air uncomfortably, and I found myself biting my bottom lip nervously. The truth was, I was known as Oderaa here due to life complications, but anyway, I locked gazes with the slender mocha-skinned man across the room.

It seems like he brought a couple of friends with him, and he has a shit ton of guys with him as well. They were seated around some fancy ass table in the far corner of the canteen, where it was pretty busy during the day and even louder at night. Their voices carried effortlessly through the small space, drowning out conversations and creating a loud din in the background.

Too much people, too much eyes.

 Carmine was drawing too much attention and it wasn't helping my case in the slightest.

I quickly make my way over to him, grab him by the arm, and escort him outside before he can blather more about me in public. As I leave with him, he announces to his friends that he'll be back soon.

"My old girlfriend wants some private time with me. Who am I to say no?"

I can still hear his friends laughing as I make my way past the throng and out the rear door. I try to take in as much oxygen as I can while simultaneously disregarding Carmine's attempts to force a verbal answer out of me. I breathe that horrible alleyway air greedily as if it were oxygen.

That was close.

"Where the fuck have you been, Sandra? Last time I hear about you that your were at south with a burning mansion on top your ass. Impressive, I must say. But you know, it's not surprising. You always had that fire in you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about" was my first response to Carmine as I keep a straight face. 

He stares at me, unamused. "What do you mean 'no idea what I'm talking about'? Of course you know what I'm talking about. Don't play dumb with me, Sandra."

"I'm not playing dumb. You know what, it doesn't even matter. Whatever happened happened long ago, and it's best for me to move on. I don't want to dredge up old memories. Can't we just talk about something else?"

"Sure," he said, and the sound of his sarcasm was dripping from his tongue thickly. 

 He takes a breath, letting out a short sigh. "Fine, whatever. But let's talk about this shitty job of yours, alright? I've got some ideas on how to improve your life if you're interested..."

"Not interesting in hearing this ," I cut him off , my tone sharp, and turn my body away from him so that he couldn't see my face. I should have know he have a reason for showing his face to me. "You should back to your friends, I have work tomorrow. So let's pretend you never saw me today."

"Yeah I guess I should, but you should see how much the world changes, and how little you change. All you did, was stay quiet and follow orders. Turning into a recluse is really nothing new, and yet you are still running away." He chuckled at the irony. "You are pathetic."

"Well you are just a stupid piece of garbage who can't figure out what to do with himself, so don't judge me for trying to live a little!" I snapped at him, turning to face him again. His eyes bore into me, and despite the fact that they were hidden behind dark glasses, his gaze pierced right into mine. I am not afraid of this punk. "I've changed plenty! Just because I still prioritize my privacy and secrecy doesn't mean I haven't made progress. I'm not running away, I'm just trying to make a life for myself that doesn't involve killing people."

I was angry, frustrated, and embarrassed by the fact that he was right, and that the man knew that.

He shrugged, his face devoid of emotion except for a small smirk that played on his lips as if to say "you're a lost cause". With each step he took towards me, I remained firm against his advances.

"Look, I won't fight ya anymore. If you want to be alone, go ahead. It makes sense, anyway." His condescending smile didn't seem to falter despite his words. But I'm done listening to him.

"Well, if you ever decide you need some help , let me know."

"But I doubt anything you come up with is ever gonna be worth my time."

"Oh I think it is." His grin had grown wider, and his eyebrows raised high above his sunglasses, almost disappearing into his hairline.

I didn't appreciate the insinuation that he would find it worthwhile. In other words, I had no interest in whatever ridiculous plan he had cooked up. But instead of telling him as much, I simply smiled politely and thanked him. And then turned around, leaving him to contemplate whatever he had in mind as I continued walking back inside.