Chapter 2 "The House"

"Ahhh.." I sighed out loud to myself as the vigorous guitar of Spineshank blasted from my cars humble speakers.
My car picked up pace quickly, after all I made it that way. I quickly reached 90 miles an hour. 100 came quicker. Trees blurred in my peripheral vision. 110 felt more like time was slowing for me. The adrenaline coursing in my veins raised my heart rate, while I gripped the steering wheel tighter with each passing second. 120 and seconds passed like hours. My car started to spin before I even began to realize it. The blurring trees became clear as I hurtled toward them. I had no time to think, no time to react or even get a word in edgewise. Time stopped for a split second, before I was obliterated by the tree. "He was going over 100 miles an hour, on an icy road." The papers would say. "There was nothing left of him." I blinked, and continued down the highway at blistering speed. It's too bad it was all in my head.
"Burn Baby, Burn.. Strung out on a wire" I sang loudly as I flew down the Hutch. No cops tonight, I thought to myself. Free to roam at whatever speed I please. Bullet-Proof skin was blaring out of my speakers and as always I found it ironic. I felt invincible. I reached my exit as the song finished and downshifted to keep from losing control. This part of the Bronx was just as equally desolate as my own hometown. Again, the comfort of the loneliness returned. I reached the destination street with ease, thanks to my memory of this area. I passed by the house, "350 Lafayette Ave... Welcome home." My car responded to my sarcasm with a reminder that I was low on brake fluid. "Yes yes, Don't worry I'll feed you later. I promise."
I parked on Mayflower, 4 blocks away. The last thing I wanted was these people to have was my license plate number and a profile of my car. I shut off my cell phone, stashed my wallet and house keys. I removed the fake identification I had freshly laminated the night before. "Enter... James Agrusa." My name that I had created from my grandfather and grandmother. They would be proud of me, I'm sure. Bootlegging a Massachusetts ID was too easy with the right tools. I admired my handiwork. I also armed myself with a small pocketknife. It would be unwise to come unarmed. I hid my iPod and 7 inch screen. No use drawing unneeded attention from petty thieves.
The cold welcomed me back into it's open arms, as I left my car. The click indicated all of my doors were locked. I stashed my car keys up underneath the chassis of my car. No reason to even give any hints that I even had a car at all. My walk was quick and purposeful as I strode towards "the house" I would come to call it. I memorized my surroundings as I passed. Mentally saving every picture of every detail. Overlooking something important could cost me too much.
This somewhat old, very box-like house sat 3 houses from the corner of this peculiar block. The house reminded me of a real life sandcastle. There were 6 windows, not including the back of the house that I could not see. It was an off-white with yellow rims around the windows. It had a flat roof, with two possible exit points. And no fire escape, which meant it was a single family house. It had a black front door, with a large deadbolt. The steps were ironically the same dull gray that I had seen not 15 minutes ago when I left my house. The lights were off in the house, and I felt singular standing there atop those steps. I searched for activity in the windows, almost desperately. Without even motioning for the doorbell, or any sort of indication of my presence. I stood there, for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I heard sounds behind the door. The large black door creaked as it swung open.

(End Chapter 2)