The word melancholic refers to someone's mood being negatively influenced, causing gloomy or even somber thoughts, with no direction whatsoever, often leading to suicidal tendencies. But my story is a bit different. My parents you see were associated with the KGB in the '70s and '80s, it's safe to say they were both public enemies because shortly after they caught on and decided to investigate, little did they know the KGB was one step ahead of them, and murdered both of them and left 'em' in the dense forest. It was quite the rude awakening, one that I wasn't planning on being half asleep, still in my pajamas when I heard the knock on the door and the saddening news and the silence on Officer Chauncey's face, the only on-duty officer at the time. I've now cut off communication with my stepmother who had been abusing me for several years, it's been a hell of a "road to recovery" for me, that's for sure. My stepfather, I don't talk to him anymore, after all, he was imprisoned for his illicit drug use clogging up my life, and the constant asking if I'd "want a hit". "Hey, you glad you left that behind, that your past is in the past and not trying to "come and haunt you?" said my friend Jaiden. I reluctantly agreed with him.

"You still sober?" Jaiden said. I was hesitant to reply because I knew damn well he could see right through my lies. I said yes, and then he continued to go on about how it would lead me down a "dark and quite dangerous path", I brushed it off though as I had more important things to focus on.

If only my parents had told me- that they were working for the KGB, then, my life would've been better, and I could've somehow prevented their deaths, I mean, if I wanted to I guess. But that was behind me just like Jax said. I headed into "Kash n' Karry", the one grocery store that was in my vicinity, and checked a few items off of my list, I couldn't find the whole wheat bread that I was looking for so I opted for white instead.

I went to the checkout line and waited patiently, I even thought that pacing around would make time go by quicker but I didn't want to look like a "freak". I was next in line, I read the woman's name tag, "Glenda", I imagined how I'd interact with her but I overthought it a bit more than I would've expected. "Do you want your groceries in a bag, sir?" she said, but I just nodded, then she looked at me funny. I've had bad social anxiety since I was 7, well, it was mostly because of my parents' monotonous jobs, working 9 to 5 in whatever job that they could "hold down". They didn't have any time for me because by 7:00 they'd be too tired from their shifts at their supposed "Welding Jobs".

It was the "end of an era" for me, my parents were gone so there'd be no danger, no one out to get me I thought, oh but I was wrong, oh so very wrong.

"It's a harsh reality to live in, and I guess you've just gotta embrace it," Jaiden told me.

"They were involved in something, something shady, a deal that went sideways, and to keep their mouths shut and to keep the deal, still on the table they were possibly given money or even immunity but that wasn't enough for them so when there were certain demands and they weren't met the big boss man took charge of the situation, not by diffusing it, by murdering them". Yet I have anger issues too, they come in "all different sizes" if you know what I mean. Life sure can be tough dealing with the grief of the deaths of your foster parents. But this isn't anger, it's regret, despair, and sadness in my heart, and I needed answers.

I brushed my teeth and headed out for the day, bringing a backpack with me that had a water bottle and some vitamins preferably in the side pocket of the bag, on the right-hand side. I unchained my bike from the lamp post adjacent to my home, peddling off into the distance. When my bike came to a standstill I jostled my map out of my bag, and it was also tightly packed with some souvenirs from Charlie, from the memories we'd had as kids."Two-and-a-half miles left, I'm almost there, come on you've gotta keep pushing forward David" I murmured to myself. Finally, in the distance, it came into view, a sign that read, "Welcome to VerdumBurg, we're happy that you're here", it was a weird sight to see a sign almost beckoning newcomers.

Nonetheless, I kept going, you could hear the sounds of the railroad crossings chiming in the distance and chatter in pubs as there was a supposed football game on that afternoon.