Unscripted (Jack & Crutchie)

Chapter 1 - The Pain

Charlie's (Crutchie's) Point of View

I slowly opened my eyes as I heard the boy's footsteps fade into the distance. It was becoming an average occurrence now for a group of school boys to beat me in the alley after school. They just hated me because I was homeless. Well, I think. I don't know what I did wrong. I never bothered them before... but everyday the beatings just got worse.

The results of my beatings became more permanent. What I mean is, they were leaving scars all over me now. Scars that wouldn't ever disappear. However, there was one thing that bothered me more than some little scars.

My right ankle had begun to get swollen after a beating when they stomped it. Because of that... they continued to target my ankle. I just had a little limp was all, but I was nervous to even try to stand after today's beating. Even though it just happened, it all replayed in my head.

"There he is!" The biggest boy of the four shouted.

"N- no, please-" I whispered, without thinking about the consequences.

"I'm sorry, did the rat just speak? I didn't know we gave it permission." The second boy chimed in.

"I don't think we's did." Said the biggest.

Without any communication between the four, they began beating me again. Almost as though they had been waiting all day with something already planned out. I didn't have the energy to fight anymore. I couldn't. I hasn't eaten in days, maybe a week, and I'm not getting any better. I just want to die.

They were doing the usual, punching, kicking, slicing. But after a while of that, I guess they's weren't satisfied.

"Hmm..." the big one let out. Then he scoffed, and all I could see was him raising his foot into the air. He slammed it down on my right ankle. I screamed out in pain. I haven't felt something this horrific before.

Because of my scream, they ran off. I was in the alley still, in the exact position they left me in. My right leg sprawled out, with my left right behind it. I had one arm over my head to protect it, and the other trying to cover my ribs.

I knew I had to get up at some point. I can't lay here. As much as I want to die, I know it isn't going to happen right now. I tilted my head up slightly, seeing a trash can. I grip the sides of it, it's cold metal feeling good on my red, cut up hands. I pulled myself up, and got ready to limp. I'll probably limp worse than usual, but soon it'll go back to a small limp. Or so I thought.

I tried to put just a slight amount of pressure on my right foot to limp, and I crumpled down to the ground. I let out a small scream, as pain washes over me. Is this... is this really happening right now? No. No I'm just being dramatic. I'm just a baby.

I went to pull myself up again. I'm sure I just stepped on it weird, which is what caused that. I begin to put pressure on it again, and history quickly repeats itself, although this time it's more painful. I let out a yell in pain, falling to my hands and knees, still bleeding in various places from the beating. I then heard a pair of heavy footsteps coming toward me.

Oh my god, they're back.

Without any hesitation, in an attempt to get as far as I could, I turn the other way, still on all fours. I begin trying to crawl as fast as I can, although pain quickly shoots up my right ribcage, causing me to hold it with my left hand tightly. I was still trying to crawl though. I thought that maybe I could get away.

They were saying something to me, but I was so blinded by fear that nothing was getting through. It was almost like they were speaking a different language.

"Please, please don't. Please don't hurt me again. Please. You did enough today." I began saying, tears streaming down my face and my breathing picking up.

While crawling, I put my right hand on the ground, and pain shot through my arm. Because my left hand was still at my side, I crumpled to the ground.

I yelped as my body hit the ground, pain shooting through me in various areas. Again, I started pleading, hoping maybe this time they'd gain some empathy and leave.

"Please. I can't walk anymore, please."

"Hey. Hey. Kid, breathe." A new voice rang in my ear. I realized quickly that it wasn't the boys again. I slowly turned my head towards the voice, still afraid that the second we made eye contact that I'll get a fist to my face.

Jack's Point of View

The kid I found was staring at me, fear present in his face. I knelt down to his level, trying to show him that I wasn't here to hurt him. All this did, though, was make him flinch back violently, his gaze locking on the ground.

"Hey, hey!" I said, putting my hand out toward the boy. "I'm not here to hurt you." The blonde boy slowly looked up, fear subsiding.

"Y- ..." he was silent for a moment, and it seemed as though he was trying to see if it was okay for him to speak. I smiled at him, showing that it was alright. "Y- you're not?"

My heart ached for this boy. He appeared to be my age, but was clearly starving, and just overall struggling.

"No. I ain't." I stated, putting my hand out. "Cmon, I'll help you up." The boy shook his head. "What's wrong? Can't you walk or sumthin?" The second I said that, tears started streaming down the boy's face.

"I... I don't thinks I can." I stared at him as he avoided my gaze, embarrassed.

"What do you mean you don't think ya can?" I asked, not thinking about what I was saying. The boy sat in silence for a moment, before I got the hint. "C'mere." I scooped up the boy and began to carry him. He was so light in my arms. He must just be skin and bones at this point.

The boy fell asleep as I carried him up to my "penthouse." I laid him down, and quickly fell asleep right across from him.

Word count - 1088