Pris and I are getting ready for the day. We go over to our bag of clothes, which isn’t much but it’s enough for us to survive every week. Pris goes over to the other side of the room because she hates when I see her getting dressed. I stay in the middle of the room; I don’t care.

“Don’t look!” she sticks her tongue out at me.

“I won’t. I promise,” sticking my tongue back at her.

I wear my usual brown and red flannel shirt, dark washed overalls and brown shoes. This was the outfit I wore the day Pris and I were told of our parents’ death. Wearing it doesn’t bother me anymore; it makes me feel how I felt when I was with them: happy. I go into the side pocket of the bag and pull out something that I hold very close to my heart: my mother’s necklace. Pris and I had an option to keep something from our parents after they died. I chose my mother’s silver heart locket, with a picture of her in the left side and a picture of my father in the right. I remember she wore it everyday, as I do for her now. It’s a reminder for me, letting me know they’re watching over us every second of the day. Pris chose our father’s wrist watch, the watch I mentioned in my previous journal entry. I don’t understand why though, because at the time she was 4 years old and she couldn’t even tell time. I guess it’s just because she was closest with him, like I was closest with my mom. I like to wear the watch, though, only because she still struggles with telling time and I need it more than she does. I check the time really quick. 9:45.

“Hey!! That’s mine!!” I turn around to see Pris running at me. She sees that I’m wearing the watch.

She happens to be wearing the outfit she wore of our parents’ death as well. Perhaps she saw me putting on my outfit and wanted to copy me. Typical Pris. Her outfit contains a short sleeved black dress, which now looks brown from how much it’s faded over the years, and black tap dancing shoes. Pris has always admired the street dancers we saw whenever we walked down the outskirts of Milan. Our mother got those shoes for her on her 6th birthday. The tap sound of the shoes have faded away from how much she wears them, but she still loves them regardless.

“How many times have I told you? I need to wear it to tell the time!” I tell her.

“I’m almost 9 years old, Marcie. I can tell time now,” she crosses her arms.

I look at her in disapproval.

“Fine, you can wear it but only for today, okay?”

“Okay…” she rolls her eyes as I hand her the watch.

Before Pris and I make our way downstairs to the kitchen of our apartment complex, I collect the money I owe Mrs. Ellis. €16.75. I put it in my pocket. As we enter the kitchen, we see her preparing breakfast.

“Good morning, ladies!” she walks over to us and gives us a big hug.

“Hi Mrs. Ellis! What do you have for us today?” Pris jumps up and down in excitement.

“How about some bacon and eggs, made by yours truly?”

Pris squeezes Mrs. Ellis with a big smile on her face. She loves bacon and eggs.

We sit down at the dining table, eating our bacon and eggs with Mrs. Ellis. They taste amazing, as always. I constantly tell her to pursue her dreams of becoming a cook, but she refuses.

“My family comes first,” she always tells me.

I can relate to her. I wish I could pursue my dreams of becoming a musician, but Pris comes first. Besides, who would want to listen to a homeless 19 year old? Probably no one.

“What do you girls have planned for today?” Mrs. Ellis looks at me.

“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Probably the same as usual. Walk around town and see what we can find.”

“And by ‘find’ you mean ‘steal’?” Pris lightly pushes me.

I roll my eyes.

“Oh, stop. You’re just as bad.”

Almost everyday, we walk around town and take lost or abandoned things that are left on the streets. I’ve never stolen anything from anyone that was for sale. Neither has Pris. She thinks that what we’re doing is “stealing” but it’s really not. So far this year, we’ve found a few clothing items for the both of us but that’s pretty much it.

Mrs. Ellis gets up and takes our dishes for us.

“Thank you, Mrs. Ellis!” Pris gives her a big hug. “That was delicious!”

“Anytime, darlin!” Mrs. Ellis hugs her back.

I run upstairs and grab our bag.

“C’mon, Pris, let’s go!”

Once I retrieve our bag, I run back downstairs to the kitchen and reach in my pocket to give Mrs. Ellis the money.

“Here’s the last bit of jack for this month.” I hand it over to her.

“God bless you,” she smiles and hugs me.

I check the time on Pris’ watch. 10:50. We say goodbye to Mrs. Ellis one last time as we make our way out the door. Let’s see what we can find today.

I love the way Italy looks in the middle of the day. Especially during winter time. The sun shines directly on the city and the sky is cloudy but not too cloudy. Piles of snow are seen on the side of the road and the sidewalks. It gets very cold here, though, during the winter. Pris and I can never find a good jacket for either of us. That’s something we’ve been trying to find for a while now. I look over at Pris. She’s holding her arms and shivering like a leaf. She needs a jacket more than I do. The last thing I want is for her to get frostbite.

After walking around town for a few hours, we come across an abandoned house, next to a barber shop, with a sign in front of it that says “FOR SALE.” I look over at Pris. She nods her head, knowing that I’m wanting to go inside.

“Don’t take any wooden dimes,” I tell her.

We enter the house with caution, making sure no one is watching us. Right away, I see a huge pile of clothes in front of the stairway. The people who used to live here must’ve forgotten about it when they were moving out. Pris runs over and jumps in it.

“Pris, stop! That’s disgusting! You don’t know what’s been in there!”

A bunch of bugs and beetles make their way out of the pile, scurrying all around the floor of the house. Pris screams and runs out of the pile in disgust.

“What did I just tell you?” I grab her arm. “Don’t..take..any..wooden..dimes!”

She rolls her eyes at me. I always tell her this phrase when I tell her to not do anything stupid. She hates it.

I carefully go over to the pile with Pris and start looking through the different fragments of clothing. They smell awful. How long have they been here? I come across a bunch of shirts. Only women’s shirts. They seem to all be my size. A girl my age must’ve lived here. I take the few shirts I find to my liking and put them in our bag. I can’t seem to find anything that will fit Pris. Neither can she. I dig down deeper in the pile. I come across some pants and jackets. I already have plenty of pants that I found throughout the year, but, jackets! Finally! I pull out all the jackets from the pile, which is only a few. Pris and I try all of them on. Only one fits me and none of them fit her. The others are way too big for the both of us. Maybe the girl who lived here liked big jackets?

“Why does everything have to fit you and not me?” she pouts.

I hand her the jacket, which is now mine. It’s a long, thick, black jacket with black buttons.

“Here, honey. You need it more than I do.”

She takes it and puts it on. It’s a bit big on her, but it’ll have to do for now. We can switch every now and then if I start to get cold.

We put the clothes back in the pile how they were when we first came in. Even though Pris didn’t find anything for herself, we at least found a jacket, which is more important. She has enough clothes that she found throughout the year anyways. I just needed a few more shirts.

“What time is it?” I look over at Pris as we make our way out of the house.

She holds up her wrist to look at the watch.

“Uuuuuuuummmm…….twooooooo….”

“This is exactly why I wear the watch, Pris,” I hold her wrist and look at the watch. “2:40.”

“At least I was right about 2,” she crosses her arms and walks off in front of me. “I’m choosing where we’re going next.”

We’ve been walking around Milan for almost the whole day and I’m surprised we haven’t froze to death. We’ve been switching off the jacket every hour. We found a few bites to eat here and there, but not enough to pay for a full meal. Pris ended up taking me to a street tap dance show not too far away from the abandoned house. She got to dance with one of the dancers and showed off her tap shoes. I love seeing her so happy like that. I’m hoping that one day when we’ve grown up and found a place to live, she’ll be able to pursue her dreams of becoming a dancer and I’ll be able to pursue mine of becoming a musician. I wish I could talk Mrs. Ellis into becoming a cook. I know she loves it. Sometimes I wonder if Pris and I would be able to live with her. She could adopt us. But, she never brought it up. I don’t wanna seem too forward about it. We’d love to live with her though. She’s been like a second mom to us.

“Can I have the watch please now?” I look over at Pris. “It’s getting late and I need to know how long it’ll take us to get home.”

Pris takes off the watch and hands it to me.

“Thank you for letting me wear it.”

“Absolutely,” I smile at her as I check the time. 8:30. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yes! I loved dancing with those tap dancers! I think they really liked my shoes!” She stops and does her own little tap dance.

“Show off,” I tease her.

“Oh, whatever! You’re just jealous!” she pushes me as I laugh at her.

Before I got a chance to push Pris back, I see tons of people running off in different directions. I hear gunshots and screaming. I turn around to see war soldiers chasing the townspeople and shooting their guns. I grab Pris’ hand and start running for my life.

“Marcie, what’s happening?!” Pris cries out.

“Another war fight is breaking out. We need to get home as soon as possible!”

Thank God our apartment complex was only a few blocks away. We come running in the side door of the kitchen.

“Go upstairs and hide under the bed in the corner of the room, now!” I tell Pris. “You know what I taught you to do!”

Pris runs upstairs as I look for Mrs. Ellis.

“Mrs. Ellis?! Are you here?! Please help us! We’re in danger!”

I enter the downstairs bathroom right next to the kitchen. I drop to my knees after seeing Mrs. Ellis dead on the floor next to the toilet. Blood is everywhere and her clothes are completely ripped and ruined. I start screaming and crying. The one person I loved dearly other than Pris and my parents is gone. They killed her. I know they did.

I hear screaming coming from upstairs. Pris. I run upstairs to see a soldier holding Pris at gunpoint. I’m sobbing uncontrollably now. He says something in Italian that I don’t understand. All I can say is, “Please don’t take her. Please don’t take my sister.”

He runs behind me downstairs and out of the complex. I run after him, hearing Pris screaming and crying my name. I ran as fast as I could to reach him. It’s too late. He drove off with Pris in a car with the other soldiers.

This is all my fault. I promised Pris that nothing would happen to her and I broke that promise. I’m throwing things all around the room. I kick pillows, I hit walls, I throw our bag across the room. I look under my bed. The money’s gone. All of it. Gone. I scream and cry. I don’t know what to do. Everything seems hopeless at this point. I sit in the middle of the room, crying, holding my mother’s necklace.

“Please help me. I need you.”

A few minutes have passed after sitting and praying and eventually, I feel a voice saying, “Find her. You’re brave. You know what to do.”

I get up and grab the bag and blankets. I go to the corner of the room where my carving knife is. I put it in the bag. I look at the tally marks one last time.

“This is it.”

I go to the downstairs bathroom and put a blanket over Mrs. Ellis.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I love you.”

A tear rolls down my face. I wipe it away. I need to be strong. I’m doing this for Pris.

I say one last goodbye to the complex and make my way out the side kitchen door. I look at the watch. 10:15. I can’t go to sleep knowing that Pris is out there held captive. But, I know I need the rest. I’m too weak and too tired to leave now.

“No, Marcie,” I tell myself. “You need to leave now. You’re sister is counting on you.”

My mother always told me to listen to my instincts. She said they’ll lead me in the right direction, and she was right.

So, my journey begins. I make my way over to the abandoned house and the barber shop to see if I can ask anyone for help. It’s cold as hell and Pris has the jacket. I go into the abandoned house to look for the other jackets in the clothing pile. I got one of them, even though it’s too big. It’s similar to the first jacket we found, only it’s brown and not black, with black buttons.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”

I look up to the top of the stairs to see a girl, about my age. I thought no one lived here?

“I thought this house was abandoned and I was taking some clothes from this pile, but I guess someone does live here so I apologize.”

I put the jacket back.

“No! Please, don’t leave. I haven’t had company in so long.” She makes her way downstairs over to me. She has long blonde hair and is the same height as me. She’s so pretty.

“You can keep that jacket if you want,” she picks it up and gives it to me. “This is the pile of clothes that I don’t want anymore.”

“Thank you,” I take the jacket from her.

“I’m Jane, by the way,” she smiles at me.

“Hi, I’m Marcie,” I shake her hand and smile back. “So, you live here?”

“Yup! I have for the past 20 years. My parents and my little brother died in the war 2 years ago and I’ve been on my own ever since. I live upstairs, that’s why it looks so empty down here. And the ‘FOR SALE’ sign has been up there for years. I’ve just been too lazy to take it down.”

“That makes a lot more sense. My parents died in the war 4 years ago too,” I look down at my feet. “My little sister just got taken by a soldier when they attacked not too long ago.”

“Oh my gosh! Seriously?! I’m so sorry! That’s awful. I wish I could help you with that. I can’t imagine what that must be like. When my family was killed I was mortified.”

“You know what, you could actually help me. I just started looking for her not too long ago.” I start to get excited.

“Really? You’d let me do that?” She has a really surprised look on her face.

“Yes! I need all the help I can get! Can you drive?”

She nods her head.

“C’mon! Let’s go save your sister!” She takes me behind her house to her car, a dark green 1927 Ford Model A. “This was my mom’s car, but she gave it to me on my 16th birthday.”

My mom never left me a car. Our parents never really owned cars. They would always get drove around places by other people. Pris and I would ride our bicycles. That’s why I never really learned how to drive.

We get into Jane’s car and start driving away from Milan, hoping to find traces of the soldiers. I know I just met her, but she’s my only chance of finding Pris. Maybe she could help me. I look over at my watch. 12:20. We’re gonna be driving all night.

“Marcie, wake up!” Jane pokes me. “I think I found the soldiers’ headquarters!”

I sit up really quickly and look outside the window. It’s a large white building in the middle of a huge field. There’s no other buildings surrounding it. Kinda sketchy, right? I look at my watch. 5:00.

I look over at Jane. “Have we been driving all night?”

“Pretty much,” she says as she’s looking out the window. “I stopped a few times to rest and use the restroom, but that’s pretty much it. I haven’t eaten all night.”

I heard my stomach rumbling. I haven’t eaten a meal since yesterday morning when Mrs. Ellis cooked Pris and I breakfast. I hope Pris is at least being fed something to eat by the soldiers.

“I haven’t eaten in a while, either,” I tell Jane. “Where even are we?”

“I have no idea,” she shrugs. “Somewhere far away from Italy, though. I just don’t understand why their headquarters is all the way out here.”

As we sit in the car, I hear screaming. I look outside the window to see a little girl running for her life. It’s most likely Pris. Her dress is completely ripped. A soldier is running after her. He’s shirtless and his pants are undone. I start sobbing. He was trying to rape her.

“Get back here!” He has an Italian accent. I think it’s the same guy who held her at gunpoint, but I could be wrong.

I see Pris getting closer to the car. I think she sees it.

“Is that your sister?” Jane puts her hand on my shoulder.

I nod my head as I start to sob.

“Please help me!” Pris screams as she gets closer to the car.

“Priscilla!” I yell as loud as I can. I get out of the car and wave my arms in the air. Jane does the same.

“Priscilla!” We both are yelling now.

“Marcella?! Marcie!” Pris runs up to me and I catch her in my arms, both of us crying so hard.

“I’m so sorry,” I cry out. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was so scary, Marcie. He was forcing me to have sex with him.” Pris cries harder than I’ve ever seen her cry.

“I know honey, I know,” I hug her super tight.

“C’mon girls, we better go before they catch up to us!” Jane yells.

All three of us get in the car and drive off super fast. Hopefully they don’t chase after us. Back to Italy we go. I get into my backpack and grab a blanket. I cover Pris up. She must be so cold.

“Where’s your jacket?” I ask her.

She pointed behind her, referencing to the headquarters.

“It’s okay, I have plenty of jackets for you guys at my house.” Jane reassures us.

“Who are you?” Pris asks.

“I’m Jane! I’m the girl that lives in that abandoned house!” she says, proudly.

“It’s a long story, I’ll have to tell you about it later,” I kiss Pris’ forehead. “I’m just so glad you’re safe.”

“How would you two like to live with me?” Jane asks. “No payment required. Just us three living in an abandoned house with no parents to boss us around.”

I chuckle and look over at Pris.

“How would you like that?” I ask her.

“Even though I just met her, I think she’ll start to grow on me,” Pris looks at me. “She’s definitely not like Mrs. Ellis, but I like her.”

“I do too,” I give her an eskimo kiss. “Thank you so much, Jane, for all your help. I think we’ll grow to be best friends, all three of us.”

“Anytime! It’ll be nice to have a family again,” she turns around and looks at Pris and I.

I look at my watch. 7 am. I look over at Pris. She’s passed out on my lap with the blanket wrapped around her. As all three of us are in the car on our way back to Italy, I sense a feeling of support and comfort, something I haven’t felt in a very long time. This was the feeling I got when I was with my parents. It’s a family feeling. Jane is now our family. Pris is right. Jane is definitely not Mrs. Ellis, but I like her.

I look at my watch once again. 7:15. I look over at Pris and kiss her forehead.

“Just 5 more minutes…..” she complains.

She does this literally every morning.