Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Lizzie, dinner."
Lizzie sighed and looked at the door, not wanting to get up. Slowly, she discarded her mother's voice and went back to her book. Just as she got lost in the world of the eighteen hundreds, she heard her mother again.
"Lizzie!"
Again, she ignored it.
"LIZZIE! IF YOU ARE NOT DOWN HERE IN TEN SECONDS I'M GIVING YOUR DINNER TO PIZZA!"
Lizzie glared at the door. Pizza was her dog, who would eat dirt if Lizzie didn't stop him. Reluctantly, she put her book down on her bed tenderly. She exited her room and started down the stairs.
When she got to the dining room, she heard her mother and father talking in the kitchen.
"…I don't know Sarah; I just don't feel comfortable with this," said her father.
"I don't see why not, it's just dinner. He sounds like a nice man." Her mother said as she entered the dining room. Before she could see Lizzie, she ducked into the living room.
"A nice man? He was in jail in Italy for thirteen years. I don't want my family in any possible danger." Her father said angrily. Lizzie sank back against the wall. What was he talking about?
"Well apparently he changed his ways. He works in an office for crying aloud. How much of a threat can he be? For all you know, he could have been falsely accused. LIZZIE!"
Lizzie jumped, startled by her mother's outburst. She entered the dining room quietly.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"I've been calling you for five minutes young lady. Where have you been?" her mother said, looking at Lizzie.
"Upstairs in my room reading." She answered truthfully. Lizzie's mom's face softened just slightly.
"You are such a nerd." She said at last. Lizzie grinned widely and sat down at the table.
"Hey dad." Lizzie said brightly. Her father looked deep in thought.
"Oh, hello Lizardo. How was school?" He said, smiling at his daughter.
"Aw Dad it was so cool. I won my debate on whether or not reading is better for you than watching T.V. !" Lizzie chuckled, launching into a detailed story on what had happened. Her mother and father listened, laughing at some of the things their daughter had said. Lizzie's dad had always known she had a gift for debating. Ever since she was three, she was constantly debating with him. Whether it was what color went better with her green jumper, or which food group was the most important. When Lizzie's story came to an end, her father looked at her sternly.
"And did you thank your opponent for debating with you?" he asked. Lizzie raised an eyebrow at him.
"Why would I do that? Greg is a jerk. I just got him back for all the times he called me 'Little White Girl'." She said coldly. Her dad gave her a look.
"You should always thank your opponent. It's good manners." He said. Lizzie sighed.
"But dad, he really is a pimple on a baboon's butt, and pimples don't care about manners." She said. The sad and exasperated tone in her voice was too much. Her father started laughing. Her mother laughed a few times as well.
"Next time, thank your opponent, no matter how much of a pimple they are." He said, chortling still. Lizzie nodded with a smile on her face. Her mother served the pork chops and mashed potatoes, and they started eating.
"Lizzie, next weekend we are invited to a dinner hosted by a co-worker of mine." Her father said, serious again.
"Really? That was nice. Are we going?" Lizzie asked innocently, widening her eyes to show her surprise. She thanked her lucky stars again that she was so good at acting.
"Well…Your mother and I need to think about it. Would you like to go?" he asked, looking at her carefully. Lizzie thought.
"When is it?" she asked. Her father answered her slowly, saying that it was the next day at six o'clock. Lizzie shook her head.
"No, my spelling bee is tomorrow at five thirty. I'm in it, remember?" she said. Her mother nodded.
"That’s right." She said. "I guess we can't go after all." Her father showed no signs of relief, although Lizzie sensed that he was pleased with this information.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Lizzie and her family were discussing Lizzie's debate experience, Robb was gazing at his living room furniture, an intense look upon his face, ruminating upon the past 14 years. His dirty blonde hair matted with sweat, his blue eyes a million miles away, in Italy. He remembered the night of which he would never forget. It all came back to him. The weight of the pistol as he waited for a man. A man who had killed his father. He gripped the handgun tighter as he remembered the phone call that had confirmed his worst fears.
"Hello?" Robb had said, confused that anyone was calling at the late hour.
"Hello, is this Robbert Margiano?" a feminine voice had said. It was a voice that Robb had not recognized.
"Yes, who is this?" He had questioned cautiously.
"My name is Annabella and I work for Many Hearts Hospital. There has been a car accident and we are afraid that your father was one of the victims." At these words, every muscle in Robb's body had gone cold, as if someone had just dunked him in ice water.
"I-is he okay?" he stammered.
"Unfortunately, no. Can you come to the hospital? He has been asking for you." Annabella said softly. Robb could hear the pain in her voice, even though it was not her father that was lying on his deathbed.
"Yes. I'll be right over." He had hung up the phone and got in his car, speeding to the hospital. He had run in, stopping only to ask where his father was. He burst into the hospital room where his father was. His father, his guardian, and his best friend. Robb's mother had left when Robb was but two years old. From then on, he could remember only his father, who had worked two jobs to keep food on the table and clothes that fit on Robb. Many times Robb had taken off his father's shoes, only to find holes the size of golf balls in his boots. Now he looked at his dad, tears streaming down his face. He had raced over to his father, kneeling by his bed, sobbing.
"Basta. Enough. No more crying." His father's voice was weak with age and pain. His breathing was shallow. Slowly, Robb regained his self control and righted himself by the bed.
"Dad." He said brokenly. His father shook his head with great effort.
"Look at me. Right into my eyes." He said, for Robb's eyes had wandered down his father's body, examining the cuts and bruises.
"Listen to your papa. Everything in my house, take it. Sell it, keep it, I care not. All my money, take it. Make a life for yourself. You are a grown man now. I am so proud of you. Your mother would have been proud too." Robb's father's voice had gone weaker with every word. Tears had started streaming down Robb's face again.
"I love you, my son." His father had said. They were his last words. Robb had stood by his father's side, even when the medical team had come to take him to the morgue. When Robb had been able to move, to talk, a hand was laid on his shoulder. It was a soft hand, a small hand. Robb turned around.
"Robb, I'm so sorry." Said Annabella, a tear running down her cheek. So she had heard his father's words.
"Where is he?" Robb had answered coldly. Annabella's face turned confused.
"Who?" she asked.
"The other man. The one who killed my father." He had said. Annabella studied him for a second.
"Why do you want to see him?" she asked again, suspicious.
"I want to make sure he is okay. It is what my father would have wanted. He always worried about other people more than himself." Robb lied smoothly, his face showing no emotion. Annabella looked at him again for a long moment, then took him down the hall.
"How many injuries does he have?" Robb asked.
"…He has a broken wrist and a nasty cut above his eye." Annabella said hesitantly. Anger flashed inside of Robb. So his father had died, and the man who had killed him gets away with a cut and a wounded wrist? Robb did not reply. Annabella stopped in front of a door, and Robb entered, stopping Annabella from coming in.
"I'd like a private word with him." He said, closing the door in her face. Slowly he turned around, facing the man who stared back at him.
"Are you a doctor?" said the other man, his voice strong.
"No. I am the son of the man you have just now killed." Said Robb, walking up to the bed on which the man was comfortably sitting. It took all of Robb's self-control to keep from breaking every bone in the man's body. The man's face crumpled.
"My God, I am so sorry. My car lost control." He said.
"What is your name?" said Robb.
"Antonio Camsara. And yours?"
"What a coincidence, so is mine. Antonio Limino." Robb lied again. Quickly, his fist popped out and hit Antonio in the nose. Blood dripped from it and Antonio cussed.
"What the hell?!" Antonio said angrily.
"You listen to me right now. You killed my father. He had five broken ribs, two broken arms, and a fractured skull. You think your nose hurts? You have no idea of the meaning of hurt. My father did." Robb had said angrily. He had walked out of the hospital with an intention to kill this Antonio Camsara. In the next week, he found out all about Antonio. Where he lived, where he worked, what time he got off work, what time he left in the morning, that he had two cats. A month later, there he was, the weight of his pistol in his hand, waiting for the man to get home. He saw headlights through the window, and he settled down in one of Antonio's over-stuffed chairs, looking over his gun. He heard the key in the lock turn, and the front door open.
"Hello Ruby, hey there Max." he greeted his cats. "What are you doing sleeping at this time of day?" He picked one up, and screamed. He had found their necks broken. He put the gray one, Max, down and backed away, picking up the phone. He would find out soon that the cord was cut. His breathing hitched up a notch. Robb stayed where he was. Antonio had not noticed him yet, so Robb took it upon himself to make his presence known.
"Hello, Antonio." He had said flatly. Antonio let out a yelp and spun around.
"W-who's there?" he stammered. Robb stood up, and Antonio had screamed again. It wouldn't be the last time he screamed that night. Robb left Antonio with eight gun wounds. Five in the chest, two in his elbows, and one in his skull.
A day later, two police officers had shown up at Robb's door, arresting him for the murder of Antonio Camsara. Robb did not fight. He was tried, and sentenced with thirteen years of prison. While he was trapped in a physical prison, his mind was in a mental prison. He was polite to anyone who would talk to him, but when things did not go as he planned, he was reminded of how his life did not go according to his plan. His father had died. So that it came to be that when things did not go as he wanted, he was reminded of his father, and all the rage and hate that had entered his body that night came up to the surface. Slowly, it came to be that he lived inside of his own mind to escape the pain that was inside of him. He was offended very easily, and when he was, he did sneaky little things to get back at the offenders. Things that nobody would accuse him of doing, because nobody would think of him doing those things. His mind was slowly but surely leaving his body.
Robb served his time without complaining. And after he got out, he moved to the United States with the money his father had left him. His goal was to start over, to make friends, maybe settle down with a wife. He got a job at an office, and then he met David Lennard, Lizzie's dad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, after Lizzie had gone to bed, her father phoned his co-worker, Robb.
"Hello?" Robb said as he answered the phone.
"Hello, Robb. This is David Lennard." Lizzie's father said.
"Oh! David! Hello, how are you? Will you be able to make it to dinner tomorrow?" Robb said, his voice full of hope. Lizzie's father ran a hand through his hair.
"Actually, Robb, my daughter Lizzie has a spelling bee tomorrow at five thirty and she is one of the contestants. I'm sorry, we won't be able to make it." David said, his voice full of false regret.
"Oh. Well when does it end? I could postpone the dinner to maybe seven?" Robb said.
"Ah, we were actually thinking of going out that night to celebrate," said Lizzie's father. He heard Robb sigh at the other end of the line.
"Alright then. Good-bye David." He said at last, and then the connection died. Long after David had gone to bed, Robb was still up. Furious, he paced around his living room.
"How dare he not accept my invitation. All I was trying to do was be a good co-worker, a good friend, and he doesn't even consider it. All because his daughter has a spelling bee. Well yippee for them, that's fine. But then after I asked and offered to change the dinner to seven, ohh no, have to go out with the family. I asked him first! And then he changes his plans on me!" Robb stalked around his living room, his rage overcoming everything else.
"Well I can't just let this go. No, something has to be done about this." Slowly, a terrifying grin sprouted on Robb's face. It was the sneer of an evil plan, a smile of crime, and a smile to be feared.

It's a rough draft.
Thank you though, for the comments.