Prologue
Rain. The rain was
going to soak my hiding place. Curling
tighter, I pushed myself deeper into my cardboard box as I tried to hide my
growling stomach. Just turned ten and
the streets and starvation were all I knew.
My mother had long abandoned me.
My father was nonexistent. Again
cursed her. How could my mother allow
this to happen? Why did she have to be
one of them? I hated her. I hated that she didn’t care. I hated that she brought a different man home
every night. None of them stayed. Not one looked at me. As soon as I figured out that mother was a
prostitute, I ran. With nowhere to go,
the streets became my home. Sleeping
under bridges. Begging for scraps. Running from others. All I wanted now was a blanket. It was another cold, wet night. The kid I knew a few blocks over had
succumbed to the night’s bite recently. Two
weeks ago, he never woke. Would I not
wake come morning? A piece of the
cardboard caved, flooding my small space with water. Frustrated, I kicked out, sending the flaps
to the ground. There went my shelter, my
hiding place. Poking my head out, I
glanced down the alley. No one. Good.
I had tried to steal a watch from a man earlier. Failed.
Guess I wasn’t meant to be a pickpocket.
Just a thief. When the man
noticed, I ran, refusing to look back. Now,
rain and hunger was driving me out again.
Maybe I could make it to the restaurant nearby? They had crates stacked out back that could
be shelter. Then I launched myself
forward. People stepped aside. No one wanted to touch the filthy street
boy. No one wanted me. Everyone looked at me with disgust. Diving into the alleyway, seeing the trash
cans, hope filled me. Perhaps they threw
out the scraps? Stopping at the trash,
my hands were about to dig in when the door creaked open. Moving further into the alley, the crates
fell. “Hey!” Fear filled me. Looking up, I saw the men. One with an apron, the other just standing by
the back door. “Get the hell out of
here!” Scrambling, I slid backward. Praying that they wouldn’t see me behind the crates. The men exchanged a few words before the door
closed. There was food nearby. But I had to wait. What if they didn’t leave and were waiting
for me to show? My stomach growled. Food.
I needed food. Crawling along the
ground, I didn’t think about what my hands touched. Only about the possibility of something to
eat. Then I heard the door open
again. I froze. So close.
Footsteps moved closer. Again I
shoved myself back against the wall.
Don’t find me. Please, don’t find
me!
A face appeared. The man smiled slightly
before squatting in front of me. Oh
no. Holding out a napkin, his sleeve
slid back. That watch. “Take it.”
My eyes went to him. He was…
giving me something? Did he not
recognize me? I could see my hand
shaking as I reached out. Snatching the
napkin, I pulled it closer. As I untied it, I could smell the food. Meat, cheese, even an orange. My mouth watered. Looking up, he was gone.The following night, I found myself again hiding behind the restaurant. Would the man be willing to give me food again? If not, I’ll just take the scraps. When night had long fallen, the cold had crept in, sleep was about to take me. Hearing a door close woke me. “Come back again?” My sleepy eyes opened to see the man. He didn’t look like the man in the apron, maybe he was a waiter? “It’s going to be cold tonight. You plan on staying here?”
“Where else am I to go?”
“Come.” Holding his hand to me, again me seeing the watch, I moved further away. What did the man want? Last time I accepted someone’s help, they had hurt me. “I won’t hurt you. I can give you a warm place to sleep. As well as some more to eat.” Swallowing my fear, and my better judgment, I crawled out of my hiding place. Though I still refused to take his hand. He seemed to understand. Soon, I found myself in an apartment above the restaurant. The man seemed amused at my reaction to everything. Warmth. Dry. The smells. He even let me take a shower! I couldn’t remember the last time I was this clean. The food on the table, the best I’ve ever eaten. “Slow down. Eat too fast and you’ll get sick.” I nodded, listening. After taking the blanket he offered, I glanced at the bed, but chose to curl up in the corner. He chuckled. “Boy, you’re an interesting one.” As he spoke, I glanced at the watch he wore on his left wrist. “Ah, you still want it?” He did recognize me. Panic flooded my veins. I had to get out of here. Stupid. How could I have let myself trust him? Right, he gave me food. Shaking his wrist, a grin filled his face. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll give my watch to you when you’re able to take it.” My brow furrowed. How was I supposed to take the watch? Last I tried, I failed epically. “I’ll let you stay here, but only if you do as I say.” Instantly, I feared what he was about to say. “I can train you to become strong. You’ll never need to sleep in an alley or scavenge for scraps again.” Never need to sleep in a alley again? Or scavenge? Nodding, I wanted what he offered. “Then you’ll need to know about what you’re getting yourself into.” The man pulled a gun from under his jacket, pointing it at me. Trapped in the corner, I had nowhere to run. Where had that come from? “You, my boy, are going to learn how to properly handle one of these. Once you learn how to do so, amongst learning other skills, you will become a Ghost.”
The following night, I found myself again hiding behind the
restaurant. Would the man be willing to
give me food again? If not, I’ll just
take the scraps. When night had long
fallen, the cold had crept in, sleep was about to take me. Hearing a door close woke me. “Come back again?” My sleepy eyes opened to see the man. He didn’t look like the man in the apron,
maybe he was a waiter? “It’s going to be
cold tonight. You plan on staying here?”
No comments:
Post a Comment