In Lakewood, a small town with a reputation of crime, gangs, outcasts and violence, Lana Takumi is an orphan and a gang member disguised in ripped jeans of her late mother and old flannels of her late father. She feels stuck in an endless cycle of b...
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L A N A
HEAVY RAIN WAS SLAMMING down from the gloomy grey clouds the next morning. The tires to my bicycle hissed against the ground carpeted with soaked, colored leaves as I leaped through the street towards Lakewood High. My old, fluffy black coat, flopped behind me like a cape.
"You're seriously going to run away?" Jake snarled from behind, breathlessly. He seemed to have given up on chasing me as his figure shadowed into the gleam of the dawn behind me by the entrance of the building I lived in.
I still didn't slow down though. Instead, I keep peddling forward, causing Jake voice to slowly drift off behind me. "Fine! To hell with you, Takumi! Just remember to pay off the rest of this month's rent tomorrow..."
I was lucky I had brought my bike with me on my way to school today or I couldn't imagine what Jake would've done to me after I told him I didn't have enough cash to pay up for this month's rent. I barely managed to jump on it and escape the rage that started glistening across his eyes and his red face. The guy was decent, but when something pissed him off, he became a completely different person. Sighing, I shoved the thought of Jake's too familiar glares aside and focused on the path ahead of me.
October had just taken a toll on shabby old Lakewood, leaving it with naked trees, slippery ceilings, the crooked streets coated with fallen leaves, a fluid of rainstorms, and sharp breezes stinging everyone's skin.
I liked the fall season because it was soaked, cold, and gloomy and that made the people in this town equally soaked, cold, and gloomy.
I peddled my bike past rows of houses that mirrored small, humble cottages with their gardens carpeted with wet autumn leaves. Kids, teenagers, and adults sprinted towards their cars, bikes, and skateboards with broken umbrellas or newspapers over their heads, eager to escape the downpour slamming down on them.
The school bus drove past me, packed with loud teenagers, none of them actually seated in their seats. That's why I preferred my bike. At least I didn't have to deal with any human contact.
When I reached Lakewood High, the rain had stopped and I climbed off my bike before running my hands through my soaked hair. Throwing my panda backpack over my shoulder, I crossed the parking lot breezing from sophomores to seniors carelessly smoking while dressed in dope jackets and shoes, silver chains around necks and wrists, short skirts or jeans with holes in them while also having their skin covered in pretty mad tattoos and piercings.
While waiting for the girls, I had to pull out my crappy iPhone 4 from my jeans pocket to check the time. Since the school bell was broken and the school was too broke to fix it, the students had to keep track of the time on their own.
