Dark City by, Alexis

My name is Katerina Costa and I am a 17 year old girl living in New York City or as I prefer Manhattan. I live on 5th ave and 83rd street, not to far away from the Metropolitan museum of art. That is where my brother works as a watchguard, his name is Damon Costa. He is very mysterious and doesn't seem to notice how many girls are waiting for a courtship with him. My father works there to, his name is Jeremy Costa, one of the directors for the museum. I also work they're doing desk jobs mostly not suitable for a girl of my age but its to my liking. The year is 1882, and summertime is not very pleasant in the very busiest of cities. You have carriages coming in and out of the park and streets, business men and drunkards getting in your way, and of course the ever so prestigious group of the most elite girls in NYC. They’re a bore. Father and Damon think it is most foul that I can't seem to fit in with them or at least attempt to. There not my type too prim and proper, not saying that you should be a slob, however trying to hard looks just about the same. Then, again no one seems to understand me, and often quite think im “special” as in not smart.

When I was 5 and Damon was 8, we were playing in my beautiful central park and happened to stray away too far. My mother noticed and came to look for us with my father. She found us in front of O’malleys pub 2 blocks down. Me and Damon didn't know any better but, our kind was not to mix with the irish. They didn't like italians with the olive skin and dark eyes, they only stood to their kind, gingers. One of the O'malley's recognized us and decided it’d be nice to push us in front of a carriage and horse coming down on the cobblestone street. Mother pushed both of us and was hit with a bad impact. She died later that night at home, to much blood had spilled from her body. That was the first day I found out what a gang was. Damon told me they were a group of people who did bad things to other gangs they didn't like. I found out my fatherwas part of that gang they didn’t like. In fact, he’s the head of the gang, leader of the pack, as Damon liked to put it. This was also the last day I remember talking.

I’ve been selectively mute ever since my mother’s death, yet no doctors, nuns, or priests seem to know why and insist its unhealthy. To be honest I am perfectly normal, I just dont speak with words. I use sign language or a notebook and pen for those who don't understand. Damon understands me, in fact the whole umm.. Costa association understands me. I prefer that word over gang. Damon taught all of us sign language while learning himself, he said “ It’s a good way to not leave Katerina out of things, and a way to keep what we now to ourselves, like a code that only we now, gingers won't be able to get it!” He is right. They don’t, but they wish they do.

That was years ago though, we are now grown up and at the stage of courtship. Oh! what a dreadful time, can’t walk alone in fear of a young fellow approaching you. Same goes for Damon however, he likes the attention. I prefer to stay in the museum or central park, just because no fellow would think of going in there for fear of being called a pansy. The museum is a very peaceful place, everyone of the guards are part of the Costa association. They are like family. Did I mention I am the only female! Every wife gave birth to a son then died, my mother was the only one to survive 2 childbirths. This is just another reason why I dont want to be in a courtship.

Anyways, the museum is nice, quite, and a good place to find out everything within the elite members of 5th ave. I also get first look on the new paintings that arrive. Just last week there was one that came from Germany to be sold in an auction. It was sold for 5,000 dollars. It wasn’t worth that much but, the museum board didn’t complain. We should be getting a new painting soon from Italy! I cant wait to see who’s in it or where its from. Me and Damon were born in Sicily so, we technically are immigrants but, we know people who made us legal “U.S. Citizens”, hopefully the painting is from our birthplace. I’ll be back to write more, friend. The painting has arrived!

Later in the evening or morning

Friend, you will never believe what happened this afternoon! I met a woman, Mrs. Hawthorne, who knows sign language. Let’s start from when the painting arrived. I was walking down the corridors of the museum and took the secret passageway to the basement. Once, I was there I noticed the guards signing about how beautiful she was. She turned around and said “Don’t even try to get with a widow like me, boys.” It was magnificent to see their shocked faces. I was surprised she understood sign language. I laughed at the boys and started to talk to her, signing of course! She told me that she thinks the painting is special, even though the velvet blanket covering the masterpiece was still over it. The guards took it off and underneath it was the most handsomest guy you would have ever see. I was at a lost for words! It was a painting of Captain Nicolosi, a general in the italian army. The painting was from, The city of Padua, but the Captain was from Sicily. Nicolosi you see is a town in Sicily.

The painting was so lifelike I felt like his eyes were literally following me, like he followed my every step with his still gaze. I told the guards to leave me and Mrs. Hawthorne alone, so we can inspect the painting. Mrs.Hawthorne was interested in the painting because of the realistic effect it had. It was like the captain was in the room with us. She signed to me “If only he weren’t stuck on that painting, he looks like he would be a good companion in a courtship.”

If only he was alive! Oh the things I would like to do with a man like him, like hold his hand in public! or even kiss! What a scandal it would be to do that with a man you are only in a courtship with. Mrs. Hawthorne told me to keep the painting in a special viewing room, one only few members of the museum knew about.

As the noon rolled on, I learned a lot about Mrs. Hawthorne and her life. Her husband died of tuberculosis 15 years ago, she is wealthy enough to buy out the whole museum, including the artifacts about 3 times, and she is a spiritualist. She told me its not something she shares with new friends, but I was an exception because she felt good vibes coming off of me. I told her about my mother and the Costa Association. Her husband was good friends with my late uncle. Small world huh? Just as we were going heading back to the museum, she told me my mother was with me, that she sensed her presence around me, protecting me. She also felt the same thing when I introduced her to Damon.

We decided to take one last look at the painting and admire the Captains rare handsomeness. Damon, however decided to bum us out and told us how he died. You would think it would be related to war or an injury from battle, but it wasn’t. He supposedly killed himself after they found his parents at the bottom of a river. Damon told us that the only thing they were missing from making it a closed case, was the fact that “They never found his body. They think its been taken for money or dark magic.” I hated Damon at the moment for saying that because he said it with a sly smirk any person would want to smack. Mrs. Hawthorne did just that. “Young man, don’t say such foul things just because a flat surface with colors on it is better looking than you!” She yelled this of course. I can hear perfectly fine, just in case you were wondering. Damon then left muttering profanities. Mrs. Hawthorne left after him, but I stayed. I wanted to take a closer look at the painting and just when I turned my head ever so slightly, something moved within the painting. I went to touch it, and what happened next put words back into my mouth. I was inside the painting!

I scrreamed, in panic and fear. How was it possible?! The strange event is still swirling my thoughts in the form of a billion questions. I looked up to see Nicolosi staring at me in shock. “What?” I said. Yes, I spoke with real words, the sound of my own voice shocked me. My voice was raspy and soft at the same time, I never imagined what it sounded like before. “How did you do that?” Nicolosi asked.

“I don’t know its not my painting now is it.”

“Feisty young lady aren’t you

“More like confused!”

I know this wasn’t the way any female should talk but his arrogance was annoying. He spoke like he knew how handsome he was. It reminded me much of Damon’s character. I looked around my surroundings and realized I was still on the floor. I got up dizzy and found myself falling back to the floor. I would have if it wasn’t for Nicolosi holding me upright. Shocked yet again, i gasped and stared at his face just because. There was not one flaw on it, he seemed to perfect. I snapped out of it and spoke, “Why are you holding me?”

“You were going to fall again” he said with a smirk.

I left his grip annoyed, “Why are you in here? Why am I in here?”

He laughed at me, loud and rudely might I add!

“I’m in here,” he began, trying to stop from laughing, “because an Irish voodoo man put me in here”

Now, it was my turn to laugh. An Irish voodoo man! Have you heard of such a thing? It sounded ridiculous. I stopped laughing however because he was staring at me a little too intently and standing too close for comfort. So close, I could feel heat traveling to my face. He noticed, “As I was saying,” he began again.

“ I was visiting a… special bar”

“The kind with half naked women?” I asked slyly. I hated those places.

“Doesn’t matter, I was drinking at the bar trying to forget my parents death, and the next thing I knew a man was pulling me towards a room for a game of billiards, and the next thing I saw was smoke and then bam! I was trapped in this painting. Ever since then I’ve been able to see colors around a persons head from outside the painting.”

“You were drugged by an Irish dark magic man, tricked into a room, and can see colors around people’s head is what you’re telling me. Correct?”

“Putting that way makes me seem so… what’s the word?” He looked towards me for an answer.

“Crazy! You are nuts and now I’m stuck in a painting get me out!”

“I don’t know how, if I try to touch the surface I get burned, see” he touched the painting and it singed his hand.

“Will that happen to me?” I asked with wide eyes.

“Maybe not, but you do have to wait to get out be-”

“WHAT?! How long? WHY?! NIcolosi get me out of here!” I cut him off. I can’t wait long people will think I’ve disappeared and Damon and Father don’t need anymore heartaches.

“Relax, you just have to wait till the morning when the sun rises” He said with a nonchalance voice I wanted to smack, which is what I did.

“Ouch!” he yelled with pain. Good.

“I can’t stay that long someone will notice!”

“ Relax Miss. Violent. That friend of yours, Mrs.Hawthorne, should notice seeing that she is clairvoyant”

“How did you know that?” I saw him pointing towards his ears.

“ I can hear everything Miss. Vio-”

“My name is Katerina Costa. Not Miss. Violent!”

“Well then, Katerina,” he rolled the R in my name to perfection. He got me because the heat was rising to my cheeks again.

“When should we visit your central park and kiss?”

I was at a lost for words, and the heat came flooding my cheeks again. Why was this happening? Why did any of it happen I couldn’t stand him! Yet I just met him and I wanted to take him home. AAH! Katerina! I can’t believe I said that. I can’t believe half the things I’ve said or done today. Currently I’m still stuck in the painting with Nicolosi, waiting for the sun to arise. I really can’t believe I am still stuck in here. However, he was right about Mrs. Hawthorne coming back, she noticed I was stuck in the painting and told me I really did have to wait until the sunrise. I learned a lot although being in here, a lot about Nicolosi; his life, his parents, we even talked about Sicily, our birthplace. I was right about him being from Sicily. Nicolosi wasn’t so bad as he first seemed, he was actually caring and nice, a bit of a flirt, respectable though. I think I enjoyed his company. I told him about my mother, the Costa Association, and how I’m mute. He was surprised and suggested the only way I was able to speak was because his “ Handsomeness put words back into your mouth.” I think its because of the dark magic, it’s like a barrier around the painting.

One more hour left until sunrise! I’m not complaining at all, it was actually kinda fun being inside of here with Nicolosi, talking about our lives. We even came up with a theory as crazy as it might sound. That the voodoo, dark magic, Irish man who put him in the painting might be the same person who tried to kill me and my brother. Since, the bar Nicolosi last went to was called O’malley’s, and the bar where Damon and I was playing around was called O’malley’s, as well, we think they might be the same person. It could be possible because we are both from Sicily, the O’malley’s hate the Italians, and by some strange fate, his painting ends up in the museum where the Costa association works at, the association that has many conflicts with the O’malley’s. Coincidence or fate? Who knows!

“Katerina, the sun is gonna rise in a few minutes” Nicolosi told me. He helped me get up and made sure I had my things with me.

“I’ll look into our theory, who knows I might be able to find a way to get you out of here.” I said tiredly. Did I mention I loved the way my voice sound right now!

“ Yeah get me out of here so you can show me your beautiful Central park and that kiss.” He said it with such confidence it irked me. I got up and started to walk towards the side of the painting I came from. Before, he could see the the heat rising to my cheeks again. I felt him tug me back by my waist and bam! We were kissing, and it was... , I don’t think I have words for that. But, when it was over I was sad, maybe a little depressed.

“Goodbye katerina” He said with a slight chuckle and a small wave of his hand. “See you later captain.” That was the last thing I said before I left the painting and entered my world. Mrs. Hawthorne was there there to catch my fall.

That was how my night went, It was full of shocking and confusing events. I still can’t believe I was inside a painting with possibly the most alluring man in the world. I fell in love. With a two-dimensional object. A mute in love with a painting. Lovely. Just lovely.But then again, you never know what might happen in a city such as New York. A dark city filled with mystery in every corner.

Yours Truly,

Katerina Costa