The sky was juat darkening when he stepped off the five a clock train. The air was humiffling, so much for new york being pleasant. Already some guy had sneered at him and a grouip of girls had walked past him and giggled. He sighed into the collar of his trench caot. It was black and a little retro for him, but it still fit. He put his hand into his trech pocket and pulled out the note his mother had written for him a few hours before. It had detailed directions in her curling girly script. He didn't need to read it, he had pretty much memorised it on the trip. But the monochromatic routine action calmed him a bit. He started off towards the road. He was about to turn off onto st.annes cross when a coal black bentley came wheeling around the corner. Jonnys eyes widened expodentially and he caught his reflection in the cars mirror exterior as it zoomed past him. Merely a breath away. HIs hair had grown out so it hung past his shoulders and was mussed and curled at his ears. HIs face was a little tanner, his expression definately grimmer. HIs eyes even seemed darker since she had gone, and they held a sliver of ebony in the pupil that would always remind him of her. HIs lips had become more bowlike, and slightly pale. Then the car whizzed past and the reflection was one. HE sighed a deep breath inward. Then the car reversed, and stopped a little in front of him. The back door opened and a woman in blue pajama bottoms and a dark grey hoodie got out. In one jand she held a bowl of corn flakes, with the other she gestured him to get in.
"Dont talk. Get in," she said, through a mouthful of cereal.
The words, Im-not-allowed-to-talk-to-starngers sat on the edge of his tongue and stayed there. Instead he jsut nodded.
In the car, the air was actially a lot more bearable. It smelt like cornflakes, milk and sugar. Jonny closed the door and the car sped off. He looked at the other passenger and realised a few other things about her. HEr dark hair was tied up in a pony tail and she didn't wear any make up. But she seemed to be wearing black stilletos and that made him question her sanity. Also, she had a watch on either hand. Neither of which told the right time. The woman, who he had guessed to be his aunt Estelle, seemed to be completely oblivious to his presence and he shrugged into his seat. The shade wa sup so he couldn't see the driver. After ten minutes of waiting for her to say some thing, and only silence and was just about to doze off when- "YOur my sisters son, your best frien died and now your suicidal."
"Uh, no. I..."
"It wasn't a question." Aunt Estelle said, setting the bowl on the ground. "Your mother told me about you. Said you were sad,"
"I'm not sad," Jonny answered becoming uncomfortable.
"She said you'd say that."
"Look, I dont know what my mom told you but I'm not sad."
"She said you'd say that too." Aunt Estelle had big brown eyes. They did not glitter or shine with the begginigs of madness. JOnny believed they should have.
"So, sad son of that sister of mine. YOu have come here, so that youd dont go to her, havn't you? YOu want to be with her but your afraid of death right? God, you're weak."
JOnny resisted the urge to reach across the bentleys balck interior and slap his aunt. Instead he just stared straight ahead and said nothing. He was beging to regret coming to new york. BUt he probably wouldn't be here long.