Chapter 1 - The Beginning, My life, Hello
I'm laid here freezing, wondering how things got like this. I'm only 13 and im here on the streets of Boston, Massachusetts shivering and thinking over the events in my life.
The first and most important event I guess, I'm homeless, I ran away from my dad about a year ago after he dragged me to Florida to live an over materialistic life with his new girlfriend Cheryl. I had planned it, I used google to aid my plans of escape, I worked out train fares and I took whatever money I could find and stashed it in the hole that I had created in my wall and then finally, I ran away, to try and get back to my mom and puppy in New Jersey.
However I didn't quite get there, stuck in the middle and living in a dilapidated, abandoned building with three other homeless boys.
Ryan, the youngest out of the lot, 10, I don't know his story well, non of us do, all we know is that his mom is dead and his dad is an abusive drunk that got shoved in prison. To avoid the child going into foster care Matt brought him in when he was 8.
Matthew, prefers Matt, the oldest, 16 soon to be 17, quiet and independent yet super protective, currently missing and presumed dead by Ryan, who is distraught, Matthew was orphaned by the 9/11 attacks when he was 10. He has been roaming the streets since.
And then Jack, 15, the one who took me in, Matts best friend, who was also orphaned by the attacks, he is the one I'm currently curled up into under a dozen different blankets that he's accumulated over the years.
We met on a rainy night, I wandered into the old, brickwork building, only to be thrown against a wall with a knife to my stomach getting screamed at by the disgruntled, teenage boy.
But he's alright under that shell, the protective emotionless shell hiding a terrified, lost little boy.
Anyway, it's half 1 in the morning, I think Jack's asleep, he must think I'm asleep, I've been laid here super still with my eyes shut, thinking about my brother, he ran away when I was 11, he was 14, he promised that he would write but never did, he left me.
I guess running away was just in our genes.
Jack shifted a bit, he moved away then stood up. I laid still, watching as he moved a few of his things, grabbing a battered shoebox from under the floor boards. He sat down against the wall in the corner, knees up with the shoe box balanced on his skinny knees, he sniffed a bit and wiped his cheek.
He was crying again.
His whole body shook as he choked on his tears, he was looking through the shoebox slowly, each item presented a different emotion from him. I shifted a bit causing Jack to panic and shove the shoebox back under the floor boards, he wiped his tears quick but remained crouched waiting to see if I moved anymore. The moonlight from outside beamed through the ripped material, highlighting him a bit more. I closed my eyes a bit, watching as he got up and began routing through his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small bag and walked over to the window. I watched him as he emptied the contents of bag onto the windowsill, white powder, cocaine to be correct. I sighed and got up, I tiptoed over to him, trying to be as silent as possible. The floorboard creaked and Jack spun around on me sharply, he stared at me with red, tear filled hazel eyes, his dark brown hair stuck up messily, his face pale and tear stained, his skinny skeletal body trembling under a baggy, grey top. He sighed and looked down, shame written on his face 'I'm sorry' he said simply, his breathing quick and heavy.
'No, Jack, please don't' I looked down at the powder that had been separated into lines, then the 5 dollar note, my eyes narrowed as I turned back to look up at him, he wasn't tall, I am only 5'2, I would take a guess at 5'9. 'You could pay for Ryan's medicine with that you know....he's ill....he's dying and you're using it to get a quick fix into your system....bastard' I spat the words at him like they were acid. Jack looked down, a tear rolled down his cheek
'I..I'm sorry...I can't...I can't stop...I need it' he sniffed and looked up at me 'It's been 7 year...without em...mom and dad...It's so hard...I miss them' he murmured and looked into my eyes, his own filled with guilt and solemn I sighed and looked up at him, his face looked innocent and young yet so tired, I'd never seen him like it, I wrapped my arms round his neck and pulled him into a tight hug 'Jack....don't take it....please' I whispered. Hugs will make him better right.
