Sagaland - story adventure Facebook ad: “Sagaland - Interactive Fiction”

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4584190745172015

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"You don't owe rent here anymore." Roman said it across the small cafe table as he slid a stamped paper toward me. It was the lease for my third-floor studio apartment. Stamped across the bottom in dark blue ink was a receipt for twelve months of rent, paid in full with cash. I moved to Italy two months ago to get away from Ohio. My father was an alcoholic. After my mother died when I was twelve, his temper got worse. He hit me when he was angry, and he controlled every dime I had. It took me years of secret waitressing shifts to save enough money to buy a plane ticket to Florence and pay a deposit on a tiny room. I wanted to pay my own bills. I wanted a life where no one had power over me. Then I ran into Roman. When we were eight years old in Ohio, Roman had a bad stutter and the older boys at school pushed him around. I stood between them and made them leave him alone. He spent afternoons on my porch until his family suddenly moved back to Italy two years later. Now he is twenty-five, huge, and very rich. He told me he manages family shipping and properties. People in the street move out of his way when he walks past. But whenever he looks at me, he acts like we are still on that school playground. Two days ago, I made the mistake of complaining about my landlord. The man kept knocking on my door late at night, asking for extra cash under the table and refusing to turn on my hot water. I told Roman because I was frustrated. I did not ask him to fix it. Yesterday, my landlord called me shaking. He told me my rent was paid for the entire year, gave me the receipt, and said he was moving out of town. "You shouldn't have done that," I said. "I pay my own way, Roman." Roman shrugged. He wore a dark tailored suit and smelled like mint. "The man was bothering you. Now he isn't. It's just a favor between old friends." "It isn't a favor. It's fifteen thousand euros." Roman reached across the table to take my hand. He moved fast. My body reacted before I could think. I jerked back hard, slammed against the back of my metal chair, and knocked my coffee spoon onto the stone terrace. My heart hammered in my chest. My father always grabbed my wrist right before he swung. Roman froze. His hand stayed out over the empty space between us. He looked at my face, then down at my pulled-back hands. He figured out why I pulled away. He stopped smiling. "Who did that to you in Ohio?" he asked. His voice was very quiet. I looked down at the paper lease. I couldn't say my father's name out loud. "Emmy," Roman said. "No one is ever going to hurt you again. Let me take care of this. Let me handle everything." Part of me wants to let him. I am tired of being scared, and I am tired of counting coins for groceries while worrying about my locks. Roman has money and power. When he sits next to me, I feel safe. But my father controlled me by paying for the roof over my head. If I let Roman pay my rent, I am handing my life over to another man. Roman rests his hands flat on the cafe table where I can see them. He waits for me to stop shaking. You decide what happens next. #interactivestory #sagaland

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Sagaland - Interactive Fiction