Today he had become a member of the family, he had finally proved himself to his family and the city.  He looked back thinking of how it all started and how life had not always been as good as it was now.  Slowing floating into a daze, he thought back to when he first arrived...

He thought back to the opportunities he heard off when living in Catania, simply looking for any opportunity to escape from the arts and craft at the time which never left him fulfilled.  He knew he would not miss the earthquakes or volcanic ash as he boarded a ship little more than a coffin ship.  He watched daily as the ups and downs of cheers of new opportunity facing the depression of disease and death.  Knowing many people would not survive the whole journey he slowly isolated himself from the other passengers.  He had never needed anyone, and doubted he ever would.

Sitting on the deck watching as the sharks swam alongside the ships waiting to collect the dead he realized his old life wasn’t perfect but was better than what he saw aboard the ship.  Slowly he wished to see his sisters in Los Angeles, he knew they both held some power the weeks alone had made him realise isolation was never going to work.

Eventually, the ship landed in New York and he could escape the claustrophobia, being greeted by madams from brothels, preachers and politicians only chasing new whores, seats on pews or votes; he grimaced as he darted towards the bread and soup as quick as possible.  Biting in to the bread like a ravenous animals he tore through it not even hiding the shame as onlookers stared in disbelief.   Looking for more he backed himself away to a corner as the pains in his stomach from not eating hot food were quickly followed by cramping in his stomach.  Looking for a point of escape he quickly made his way into the storage rooms of the docks knowing there would be an abandoned corner or office somewhere.   For once it would be nice to be able to sleep and not worry who or how many may come at him in the night or the coughing and spluttering as death made his nightly visit to passengers.

The dawn light revealed itself as it burnt his eyes from under the desk he had slept by.  His tall athletic figure had been ravaged by the journey, wasting away as his ribs showed from under his smelly ragged clothes.  Cleaning himself up and looking through his trunk for fresh clothes he thought there would always be a job somewhere even if bar tending for now.

His optimism quickly took a knock as he walked round New York, district to district looking for some honest work.  Shunned as a foreigner his anger built; the crass, arrogant nature of these people tormented him as they felt they knew and deserved more than others just coz they were born here; this was not the welcome to America he had expected. 

The day got increasingly frustrating and his anger began to swell, war had engulfed Los Angeles, word in the paper had reported them both dead.  Smashing and throwing items round he crashed to the floor in tears.   The hard exterior seemed so fragile now as he felt lost without anyone around anymore or anywhere to go.  He guessed it would be yet another fresh start. 

Enquiring about a bar job he quickly found the owner insulting and derogatory about his nation and people, suddenly something snapped.  Grabbing a bottle he struck the owner over the head, continuing till he collapsed in a bloody heap on the floor as the glass shattered.   Staring down he realized what he had done, as he quickly became nauseous at the sight.  Emptying the day’s proceeds he quickly ran realising he was not breathing, he had to escape without anyone seeing him.  He needed protection and an escape from New York.