Post 11

It had been exactly 3 hours since Mr. Orange had left. Otis had all his things backed in his meager plaid suitcase. He wore his old leather jacket. His mind wandered. The nostalgic mist rose away from his mind. He thought of his possibilities. The things he could do. He could move Italy and see the homeland. He could move to Australia and start a new life. Looking at his watch and seeing he had 1 hour left he opened his apartment door. He glanced back into his old, bland apartment. It looked the same as when he first got there. It felt good to leave. As he walked down the hallway and out the front door, he thought about the mysterious Mr. Orange. How did Mr. Orange know exactly what he needed? It made him worry that someone was watching him the whole time. He walked to Bus Station 17, which turned out to be practically empty. He bought a ticket and waited. By then, his worries had drifted away. He was thankful for someone to give him a push. When the bus arrived, he was the only one to get on. The bus drove away and Otis got comfortable in his seat. It new life was beginning.

Post 10

It had been a week since Otis saw the ghost of his father. Otis continued mopping, sitting in his secluded apartment, thinking about the past and looking for answers. A few hours had past in midmorning when Otis had a visitor. He was reading a story in the local newspaper about a recent shooting when there was a knock on the door. Otis ignored it at first, but more knocks followed until Otis got up and answered the door. A man in a black and white suit and a funny looking bald head stood before him. "What do you want." Otis muttered. "I apologize, but I was wondering if you had a spare light bulb. I was in the middle of something important and the light went out." "No, I do not. Go bother someone else." And with that Otis promptly shut the door. Immediately afterward there was another sequence of knocks. Otis opened the door once more. It was the same stranger. This time the stranger entered the room without hesitation. "I don't know who you are but I suggest being more polite to your neighbors, especially if you don't know who your dealing with. Now, I'll ask again. Do you have any spare lightbulbs?" Tensions rose in the room. The door was still open. Otis noticed this and shut the door. "Look, I'm not trying to cause trouble. But you don't know who you are dealing with. Get out of my apartment before someone gets hurt." Otis moved toward the man. With that the bald man pulled out a snub nose .38 and pointed it at the center of Otis' gut. "You're not in any position to make threats. Lets start this over. Who are you?" "Otis." "Otis what?" "Otis Baumer." "Tell me Otis, what do you do?" "I have no job." "Then, what do you do, Otis. Sit in this apartment all day?" There was silence in the room. Otis looked back on his past few weeks here in this miserable apartment. He had no purpose in life. He was accomplishing nothing and was continuing down that path. Otis lowered his head in shame, no longer afraid. The silence and gesture was all the man needed. He put away the gun. "My name is Mr. Orange. Tell me, why are you here? In this town." Otis didn't know what to say. He had been living a lie his whole life. He just now fully understood that, but this Mr. Orange could see it from within the first few moments that they had met. "I am here to get over some things I have done. Things I cannot tell you about." "That is no reason to not be living your life. I have done unspeakable things, trust me," Mr. Orange patted his pistol, "but you must not let those things consume your life. Get over it. I'll tell you what, leave this dump. You have exactly 5 hours. Go do something with your life. Forget about the lightbulb." With that Mr. Orange left, leaving Otis alone in his surprisingly quiet and lonely apartment.

Post 9

Seeing his father made Otis homesick. He wanted to visit home. See his brother and Mother. He wondered how they were. Wondered if his brother was still alive. "A visit home wouldn't be too bad" muttered Otis while he took a sip of his coffee. "I'm sure the feds wouldn't be upset. Otis took a spot at the complimentary computer at the coffee shop. He looked up plane tickets. "550 one way" he muttered. "That's a heck of a price! Where ya goin'?" Kindra said from behind him. He was about to click "book it" when reality kicked in. "No where" he said. He could never go home. It was too dangerous. He could never see his mother again. He could never see his brother again. Otis got up, ignoring the obnoxious stranger, and walked back to his apartment with yet another dream thrown away.

Post 8

Otis woke up at 6:30 am. He slept surprisingly well. He got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with faucet water. He took and sip and looked out the window. It was drizzling and very still outside. Somewhat peaceful. He turned towards his bedroom when he saw a figure standing in the doorway. It was a shadowy figure who stood completely still. Otis was in shock at first, but then the tension eased. It was his father. "Hello Papa" Otis said with a smile on his face. Then there was a knock at the door. Otis glanced towards the door and then back to the figure, but it was gone. Enraged by the disturbance Otis slammed his glass on the counter, cracking the glass and got the door. "What do you want!" Otis yelled at Clara Holloway. "Hi, Mister, but I was wondering if you wanted any Girl Scout cookies?". "IS THIS A JOKE? IT IS 6:30 IN THE MORNING! QUIT BOTHERING ME!"
Otis didn't mean to be rude. But he hadn't seen his father in years. Seeing his father delighted him, and all he wanted to do was chat.

Post 7

Otis saw his life pass by his life too many times before. That night, all Otis could think about was the first time his life passed before his eyes. He was 14 years old. Otis laid in his bed reminiscing. He was helping his older brother and their boss to move some crates for Don Toni. They worked all afternoon until Otis' arms and legs began burning and threatened to quit on him. Almost done Otis' arms gave way and dropped a crate that smashed to the ground and white powder blanketed the alley like a light snow. Immediately, their boss pulled a gun out and began yelling. Otis began to weep, fearing for his life. His brother began apologizing but the stranger to them continued yelling. The commotion attracted a few police officers who began shooting as they saw the gun. Their boss fell the ground and Otis and his brother disappeared out the back of the alley. At 14 years of age, Otis had a gun shoved into his face and experienced a gun fight.
As Otis laid there, he realized how dangerous of a childhood he had. When he slept that night, he dreamt of his childhood, and his father.

Post 6

"There you are", Otis whispered, spotting the old homeless man that he had seen a few nights before. It was about 11:30 and Otis had been waiting for the old man. He was curious about where the old man stayed and thought that investigating would get his mind off bigger problems. Otis left the Castle Apartments and slowly followed the staggering old man, who was obviously intoxicated. After following the old man's crooked path for what seemed to be hours, Otis caught the old man sneaking into the roller rink. Otis, bewildered, began to follow in but was stopped by a voice. "Hands where I can see 'em!" Otis put his hands in the air and slowly turned around. "Stop turning!" the voice shouted. Otis stopped and felt the barrel of a handgun buried into his back. "Empty your pockets slowly." Otis tried to reason but got nowhere. "Empty your pockets. I don't want to hurt no one." Otis pulled out his wallet and dropped it on the ground. Otis waited a moment and heard his wallet hit the ground and footsteps running in the opposite direction. He turned quickly and saw only a silhouette disappear. "It was only 12 bucks," muttered Otis. Otis left the rink and back to the Castle Apartments.

Post 5

Otis opened the blinds. His head throbbed. Those noises made him wonder. He got dressed. Otis got a quick glass of water to clear his throat and walked out the door. He was headed to Casa D'Waffles. For some reason he was in the mood for waffles. He had an unusual spring in his step and had a feeling it was going to be a good day. It had snowed the night before and it was cold and slippery on the sidewalks. He walked down the street with his hands in his pockets. The restaurant was unusually crowded for December 22nd. He sat down alone and ordered two Casa Waffles. As Otis ate his waffles he noticed a man in the corner who kept looking over at him. The man avoided eye contact and left shortly after Otis noticed him. Otis thought nothing of it. He finished his meal, read the newspaper for a little bit and left.

A shot rang out. It came from behind Otis. It zipped by his head. He ran down a near by alley and hid behind a large trashcan. The man with the gun strolled down the alley. "I can't believe I found you here, Gerard. Do you know how much Don Moretti will pay me when I tell him that I found and killed the infamous Gerardo Cappelli.  I know you're here, Gerard. I know this is a dead end. Step out of your hiding place. I just want to talk. This reminds me of the time..." Otis jumped out as the man was in the middle of his monologue and grabbed his gun. They struggled for possession of the gun but Otis easily tore it from the man's hands. "Forget you saw me and I won't kill you." Otis whispered. He realized that there was some hysteria over the gun shot coming from the outside world, but the alley was secluded and hidden. No one had noticed them, yet. "I'm not leaving without the satisfaction of killing you!" yelled the man. Frenzied he rushed Otis. Otis pulled the trigger and in a moment the man landed on the ground with a pool of blood surrounding him. Otis got to work. He took the contents from the man's pockets, making sure not to get finger prints on his clothes or skin. He found a cell phone, a wallet, a pack of chewing gum, and a picture of himself. He picked up a newspaper and covered his hands with it as he dumped the body into the large trashcan. He wiped up the blood on the ground with the newspaper and threw it with the body. He put the gun in his leather jacket pocket and walked out of the alley slowly and inconspicuously and headed home. He didn't notice anyone and no one noticed him.