LAST MAN STANDING [COMPLETED]

Chapter Eighty-Five

My eye ran around the crampy, but tidy room, no beds, but a huge couch with three blankets. On that couch was Joe's phone, sack with bank notes, a couple of medicine, bandages, box of cigarette and lighter. I placed the wet bloody black shirt on my hand down.

A few unfinished bikes, reminding me of mine. I moved toward the window. My finger, opening a space through the blinders. The neon lights lit the street, people moving on them, the WH4000 skyscraper shinning in the distance. The approaching footsteps caught my ears, turning to face Andy behind me.

"Is the place alright?" he asked.

"Yes, and thank you," I said, a soft smile curling up my lips.

"Brought you something new to wear. He moved inside the room, placing the folded clothes on the couch. "For your girl I couldn't find anything, beside my old small clothes."

"No, it's fine, you've done enough for me," I said.

His eyes moved around the room. "Speaking of your girl, where is she?"

"Refreshing," I replied.

"Oh, I see,"

"Do you know her?" I asked.

"No, I'm just surprised you finally got a girl, I mean back..."

"Joe and I are not dating, we are just complicated trouble working together," I replied.

"Yeah, say that," he laughed softly. "I had a lot of those."

"Andy. I know years have passed after...I just..." I sought courage and asked.

"Want to know how I am alive?" he completed the sentence for me.

I nodded. "I mean, I saw you get shot,"

"I did get shot..." pulling up his T-shirt he wore under his leather jacket.

A terrible scar appeared at the side of his ribs. "It knocked me out conscious and they thought I was dead, but I wasn't, leaving me there, the next thing..." pulling down his T-shirt. "I wake up in hospital."

"You were lucky," I said.

"Yeah, I just thank Mr. Yvon, for finding me, the man who rose me and left all this for me," he replied.

"He sounds like a good man," thinking of Morgen.

"Was, he passed away, two years back,"

"I'm sorry,"

"Don't worry about it, it was natural death," he said, shoving his right hand in his leather jacket's pocket. "Enough about me, did you find your uncle?" he asked.

I felt a tight knot tightening on my stomach as I moved to the couch, sitting down. "Hy..."

"No, he vanished, so did all my family,"

His eyes widened. "What?"

"Crazy right," a soft laughter left my lips. Everyone I knew, vanished along with my home, it was gone, like it never was there,"

"Wait a minute, are you saying the whole building also had vanished?"

I nodded. A memory of my fourteen-year-old self, looking at the empty ground, crying loudly.

"It's crazy, I know,"

"Did you ask around? The police what did they say?" he asked moving to the couch, taking a sit next to me,"

"They don't know anyone, with that name, even the officer who had took me from my uncle, he couldn't remember him, but did remember my father and mother's case," I replied, my hand moving onto my face violently. My left foot tapping on the floor nervously. "He fuckin wanted to send me back to that hell pit Orphanage, so I ran, I ran," my voice was becoming colder, and violent, my head, taking me back to that haunting past.

The moving from one section to the next, the living in the streets, the stealing, pick pocketing, the drug abuse, the sex addict, the bulling, the stabbing to when I tried mugging Morgen for food, the man who took me in.