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

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My childhood best friend just handed me a paid lease from the landlord who threatened me yesterday. His name is Roman Moretti. We grew up next door to each other in Ohio. When we were eight, he had a stutter and other kids picked on him. I used to stand between him and the bullies on the playground. Then his family moved back to Italy without saying goodbye, and I did not see him for fourteen years. I moved to Florence three weeks ago. I left Ohio because my dad was an alcoholic who hit me whenever he got angry. I saved money for years to buy a plane ticket and rent a small studio apartment. I wanted a life where nobody yelled at me, grabbed me, or told me what to do. Then I bumped into Roman on the street three days ago. He is six-foot-four now, wears expensive dark suits, and told me he works as an executive. He said he never forgot me. Yesterday morning, my landlord cornered me on the stairs. He told me my rent was going up by four hundred euros, cash only, or he would throw my things into the street. When I tried to walk past him, he grabbed my wrist. I yanked myself free and locked myself in my room. I was shaking. It reminded me too much of my dad. Roman called me last night to ask how my day went. I was upset, so I told him what happened. Roman got very quiet on the phone. He told me not to worry about it. This morning, he asked me to meet him at an outdoor café. When I sat down, he slid a paper and two brass keys across the table. It was my lease. The rent was marked paid in full for the next twelve months. The landlord's signature was at the bottom, right next to an envelope holding my cash deposit. Roman smiled and told me the landlord had a change of heart. He said it was just a polite conversation between businessmen. Then Roman set his coffee cup down, and I looked at his right hand. The skin across his knuckles was split and red. There was dried blood around his fingernails. He had washed his hands, but he could not wash off the swelling. I felt sick. My dad's hands looked like that every time he came home from a bar fight. Roman saw me staring. He pulled his right hand off the table and rested it in his lap. He told me he was just looking out for me. He said I took care of him when we were kids, and now he was going to take care of me. Part of me wanted to take the keys and say thank you. I have four hundred dollars left in my bank account. If I give up that apartment, I have nowhere to sleep tonight. It felt good to know someone cared enough to stand up for me. The other part of me was terrified. I ran three thousand miles across the ocean to get away from violent men who make decisions for me. If Roman beat up my landlord, he is not just an executive doing an ordinary favor. He is dangerous, and he crossed a boundary I never gave him permission to cross. Roman taps the signed lease on the table. "The rent is paid for twelve months, Emmy. All you have to do is take the keys." Roman leans back in his chair and sips his espresso. The brass keys and the paid lease sit on the table between us. You decide what happens next. #interactivestory #sagaland

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Sagaland - Interactive Fiction