Marcello woke early, driven nuts by the horrid thoughts haunting his dreams. He set out with a bag hung over his shoulder, and the paper, scanning over the natural dyes. His mind encircled the 'Lady in White' and he was ready to do anything to chase that thought out of his mind.
      He first collected the raspberries, endorsing the bushes on the seaside, a bit far off inside the coast. He collected many of them, about 20 at least, trashing them all in the sack he was collecting. He didn't stop snatching at the fruits,not even when it's delicate thorns pierced through his skin.
     Next came RED and the word BLOOD sent a shiver along his spine. Marcello was convinced that he would rather die than kill a being, that he would not let this island turn him into a sinner; if he had to get blood, or would be the one flowing through his veins.
     Marcello changed his course and went to the cave from where he had gotten the blueberries. He had to climb two steps at a time to reach the level where vegetation and life existed. He picked blueberries from the bushy vegetation growing without any sort of care. From not very far off, he collected blackberries as well. Watching his steps while climbing down, he remembers the first few days in this island, how it seemed so so vast. Now, it was nothing but a piece of small known land to him. The Marcello that first arrived here, was slowly diminishing.
     He made his way back to the forest, picking as many red grapes as he could. He put most in the bag but the rest he ate, taming the raging hunger throwing a tantrum inside his stomach. From there, he followed his list, his eyes on the piece of paper he held dearly, his feet picking it's own path as if knowing how the way went.  He trusted his feet to take him to the destination because he knew it would never fail him. He came to an abrupt halt:COFFEE. He could almost taste is bitterness and feel his tightened muscles relax. He picked up many coffee beans, it's addictive scent charming him, taking him to a daze he didn't want to return from, a memory he never wanted to give up.
     Now, Marcello looked up at the sun, trying to predict what the time was.  By the looks of the sky, it seemed that the sun wasn't about to set anytime soon. He still had hours left. His legs felt tired and worn out, aching for a rest but somewhere amidst the facade he put up, his insides were relieved. Nothing could harm him in the daylight and that made him wish that the sun would never set and the light would never fade. Marcello feared the dark; it made him lose control.

(PS. Heya peeps! This was a short chapter and unluckily the next few ones will be a bit short as well. Sorry. I will try my best to update every week but with the studies and planning the trip, i am going cuckoo....cut me some slack guys. Go appreciate my effort by voting and go on comment on what you think is about to come. )