CHAPTER 1
PLUNGE INTO THE DARKNESS, Part 1

Location: Canada, Prince Edward Island, North Rustico.

Date: 01/05/2016. Time (local): 11:00 a.m.

My name is Brian Jordan Jones. I live in Marchirolo, a small town in the Italian province of Varese, near the Swiss border. A quick way to describe me would be “Afro-Italo-American.” It almost sounds like a joke or a bad punchline, but it isn’t. (Just so you know, I’m not as funny as I try to be.) I was born in New York and have African roots, but I grew up in Italy.

Obviously, I need to add a few more details to complete the picture. I’m about five foot three with medium-dark skin and curly black hair. I refuse to wear an afro, as everyone keeps asking me to. I don’t know why so many people like it, so, out of spite, I’ve straightened my hair. Just a little.

At one hundred and forty pounds, I do my best to maintain an optimal weight, but my abdominal area refuses to cooperate with my self-esteem, so I steer clear of tight-fitting clothes.

Maybe I’m going overboard with my introduction… and who’s even going to listen? Anyway…

Here I am, on Prince Edward Island, clearly not because I have the slightest interest in this prince. I’m here with my family because the trip was my Christmas present.

I’m not spoiled. Far from it. We just needed a place to go for our family vacation, and my parents thought they could use the opportunity to appease me.

I remember hearing about this beautiful place with its breathtaking views of the blue sea, and today, at last, my expectations… got completely crushed. But neither the island nor its inhabitants are to blame. I mean, we’re in Canada. Is there anyone friendlier than Canadians?

Three days ago, a violent storm hit North Rustico, as well as the surrounding areas. Many homes are still being repaired because of the storm. A real tragedy. It’s a miracle our rental house came through unscathed.

Maybe it’s my fault. I’d been wanting to visit the island for a long time, and given my bad luck, I might have ruined the place. In fact, Carolina—a friend I affectionately call Carol—thinks I have the evil eye (as does she). I don’t believe in bad luck, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t started to reconsider lately.

I’ve already fallen behind in the last two years of school. I should be in my final year of high school now, so I transferred to the I.T.I.S. section of the I.S.I.S. in Varese.

Evidently, that just wasn’t my path.

I’m a devout evangelical, but I have to admit, it’s really hard to keep believing in a world that seems determined to work against you. Still, luck aside, I’m sure of one thing: with faith, I’ll finish school sooner or later. As a line from a song that really struck a chord with me says, “by faith I will walk.” It’s one of many reminders not to give up.

It’s afternoon now. The house my parents rented is at 19 Pond Street. In an online photo of the town, I’d seen green, fertile gardens, but today, they’re as bare and twisted as the trees themselves.

Damn tornado, I think, clenching my fist. I can’t believe nature itself could do something like this to one of the few earthly paradises left.

We arrive at the beach. It’s winter and obviously too cold to get in the water. Not that I’ve ever liked swimming anyway. I just wanted to admire the view from the cliffs, but we can’t even do that. There are barricades preventing anyone from passing. Apparently, the cliffs themselves are unstable. Someone learned that the hard way the day before.

We set out to find a restaurant or a fast food joint. What a great way to wrap things up.

Unfortunately, our winter vacation hasn’t gone as we’d hoped… In forty-eight hours, we’ll be back in Italy, and there isn’t much left to admire except the ruins of the Haunted Mansion.