Vienna Austria, 2011. What a clean, pretty put together city. I remember I jaywalked and three people yelled at me. Surprising especially since I had just come from Rome where my life had been in danger a couple of times. There, red lights mean caution, not stop. in Vienna, you learn quickly.
I was staying in Favoriten in the 10th district. Far away from the beautiful castles, expensive restaurants and posh hotels. I was staying in the heart of Vienna. The poor beating soul of Vienna. The place where immigrants looking to escape the dire straits of their home country fled only to meet the oppressive oppression of social order and the way of things. Where the language brutally beats you into submission..FALL in line! Where families huddle behind their doors, don’t trust your neighbors. I top up my handy with no one to call. No one smiles.
Vienna, where gypsies roam and African men can’t wear suits to work. Black Doctors and lawyers wash dishes in the back of the posh noble restaurants so that tourists like me can marvel at how incredible dinner was after the opera. My poor uncle from Nigeria escaping the oppressive heat of the village to fall in line one step then the next in Austria. I’m sorry but the past is in the soul of the place. It can’t be washed clean. Gestapo fears make grown men whisper and cry. Follow the rules Vivian, please…my uncle pleaded. Let’s go to Church, come back in this house by 3pm….every night. I don’t want anything to happen to you…….
The rats…they were as big as cats, and newborn babies. Every nightfall green eyes twinkled one then two pairs then hundreds as the crush of fleshy bodies oozed from the walls of the building that looked as if it had been bombed. Crumbling walls…and rats separated me from my uncles apartment….every night. Have you ever screamed so hard, so violently that no sound could escape. Nothing except for the single tear to symbolize the body shaking fear, loss of innocence and realization that life is not fair and it never will be. The rats did not care. They sauntered past me and around my legs every night with an aire of confidence. This was their place,they owned it. Every so often as I stood frozen in fear I would hear the heavy breathing of a child or old woman as they watched my nightly showdown with the rats. Huddled behind their walls silent not able to speak up as i begged for help……but the rats were loud. They screamed every night from dusk till dawn.
Then one night from no where red anger……….My voice, my voice screamed…..
bitte stoppen. Ich bitte dich. zu stoppen. zu stoppen. zu stoppen.
VIVIENNETOILE 
bess
April 11, 2012
Nice writing.. and funny story.. Is this factual or fictional?
viviennetoile
April 11, 2012
Thank you, yes everything did happen…I have so many more examples of the themes I touched on in this piece:/ thank you for reading
Anthony Damiro
April 11, 2012
Nice work viv
viviennetoile
April 12, 2012
Thank you reading and supporting:)