Love admist the legacy

The evening was warm and well-resereved when Auston came back from work; today felt different like a day before' thought Auston. The street was free from traffic, and as he strode pass, he sensed the roasting and frying from neighboring houses, triggering memories.

He could taste his past on his tongue, that succulent, thirsty feeling that came with home.

He heaved a sigh and continued trekking down. The city feeling coaxed and dry, unlike other days when he'd return in a soaked tuxedo and wet briefcase.

He had returned late, dusting off his worn shoes and closed the door behind me. His toes felt itchy from the long distance, which he had endured to save the little cash he had left to buy food for himself and his buddy Timmy, an old garbage man in his late eighties.

He sleeps on the bench in front of his apartment and wakes up every morning to keep the flatlet clean; Auston could only repay his kindness with the little I had.

"You shouldn't have done so much, master," Timmy said as Auston handed him the takeaway bag.

"My conscience would judge me if I had done otherwise, Timmy. Eat and rest; you've got a long day ahead of you." He nodded, and Auston left.

This has been Auston's life for over two and a half years now, lacking panache since his father's death - a sad story to outsiders, but one he had learned to hide behind a mask of strength.

He was away when the news came, too naive and untrained to run the enterprise that his old man left for him, he was an undergraduate at Lockhart University when the letter arrived. He returned a month later, after the burial, to a plush estate of wealth, but his father's supposed will handed to him by his gruppy uncle stipulated that Auston must find a companion to inherit it and he must do it in the stretch of a year of the company would be willed to his uncle.

The dim light lit the room as He entered. He occupied a small single room with a demarcated bathroom and kitchen, an old box television, and a sturdy table held up by books. The ceiling had floorboards attached to prevent further leakage, Auston's clothes lay on the floor, and his bed was all he had - a far cry from the wealth I was born into, the son of the richest man in the country, a truly sad story indeed.

He unbuckled his briefcase, and brought out his documents: they were files as he now had to work as a low-level clerk at a local bank in that city to sustain himself, he had to put his school certificate to good use at least.

On each files was a red stamp with the name Solaria bank and Auston needed to complete his data entry, which involved entering transactions, deposits, or withdrawals into the bank's system manually, then type them into the computer the nedt day.

The files lay scattered on the wobbling table, he pat his worn suit and realized that he had forgotten his pen at the desk in the office, " Oh now I'm really screwed, " He lamented, " and what's the time, " he checked the wall clock and in his realization, hissed, it had no batteries; he stood up, looked through the window and heaved.

Auston then reached out to his back pocket, he still had a few cents left at least. He bent over and arranged his papers, picked up his keys and ran out to get a pen.

Back in the streets, Auston kept saying something, he was mumbling, counting his fingers and calculating those deposits in his mind, it was quite cold and late however hence he needed to rush to the mini market and back before they closed down.

The entrance door clinged as he walked in, the storekeeper looked and waved at him, " Hey Chris " greeted Auston, " what's good man, you seem in a rush? " Replied the shorekeeper as Auston paced towards him.

" Yeah, I need a pen, I kinda forgot the old one I bought last week at the workplace, so...

" Oh, that's not a problem, the last shelf at the left end it has everything you need " The man said, smiling.

" Of course man, thanks " replied Auston.

He went over to the last shelf and saw that each one had a price tag, without hesitation he went for the cheapest one which was a few cents, he took it, paid and left.

On his way back to the apartment he saw few men and a slim lady, he slowed down his steps and observed as the men pushed the lady around, hitting her from all angles.

Auston looked around and realized that no one else bothered to help, they were still a few people outside, nightwalkers all around but none had the guts to intervene.

Auston ignored the men, he needed to complete his upkeep this night, and he kept straight face anf kept walking home but then he heard the lady scream which triggered a instinctive response on Auston, he clenched his fist with the pen wrapped around his palm and followed them.

The lady was dragged into a dark alley by a group of thugs, her clothes torn and her body bruised. They taunt her, calling her names and accusing her.

They called her Eve, her name maybe and dragged her back and forth as she tries to defend herself, but she's outnumbered and outmatched.

Just as the thugs are about to deliver a brutal beating, Aston intervenes, using his pen, he stabbed one on thr shouder before they would realize he was with there.

The man he just poked open turned to look at the intruder, " This bloody bastard just stabbed me with a pen, " He said, " Are you mad? " asked another one of the thug.

Auston brittled on seeing the men, they were all huge things and covered in tattoos, and one of the held a crowbar.

" Are you mad?! " the thug repeated again; this was when Auston knew he had just put himself in a tight corner, he was simply being protective of the young lady but in truth he couldn't take out any of the men in such close quarters.

" Just let her go and they wouldn't be any troubles " Auston urged, retracting his steps.

He held his blood-stained pen tight and kept moving back as the men rounded on him.

" Who's this flipping idiot ", one of the came closer, his mouth odor sending shivers down Auston's spine, " Look handsome, " he said with a mocking tone " You don't make my brother bleed and expect no troubles... should have kept walking while you had the chance

" Yeah! " yelled the bigger one, " Now we're gonna beat you up so bad you wouldn't know your way back home, "

" Yeah! " yelled the bigger one again, " and bury your smelly body and piss on your grave when we're done ".

" you're going down kid, and no one is coming to save your arse ".

Auston swallowed hard, " At least let the young lady go, she doesn't deserve to be beaten up like a slut "

" Well what's your fuckin' business and after all a slut is what she is!! " they all laughed.

The lady, Eve, was shaking, tears soaked her dress as she sobbed relentlessly.

Before Auston could muster another word, he was staggered back by a lethal punch to the nose, sticky blood slimming out.

Aston fell back and hit the floor, he lay on the ground, helpless, as the group of thugs surrounds him.

One of them raises his crowbar, striking him with a loud clang. The others join in, unleashing a flurry of kicks and punches. Aston's body jerks with each blow, his face contorted in pain.

In the corner, the lady cowers, her eyes fixed on the brutal scene. She begs, her voice trembling:

"Stop, please! Oh my gosh, " she begged " somebody help! Leave him alone, please, you're literally killing him! Have some empathy you monsters! ". She goes to help but is pushed aside.

The thugs ignore her pleas, their cruelty unrelenting. In a moment, Aston's body goes limp, his eyes closing as the beating continues but a loud bang was heard afar, a gunshot that sent the thugs running every-which-way, it was the shorekeeper, Chris.

Auston however was left convulsing on the floor like a helpless dog, his pen submerged in the pool of his own blood.