Little Red Robin Hood

I - Threatened

Drip.... Drip.... Drip.

The warm blood fell to the white floor, pooling around his bashed-in skull.

Someone was screaming.

The blood was drying on my face and hands.

I still held the stupid glass trophy. It was soaked in blood.

The guns were aimed at me.

I dropped the trophy.

The cuffs were cold against my wrists.

The interrogation room lights were bright.

My eyes hurt.

I still remembered that day clearly. Every little detail. After all, it had only been a year. A year since I had left that damn town. A year since I was kicked out of the orphanage. And now I was here. Living in this old truck that I had built myself, where I still hadn't figured out what the hell was up with the heating.

I looked down at my two bags. My old school backpack, filled with clothes and some non-perishable food, and a small black suitcase. I sat up, biting my lower lip. I picked up the suitcase and slowly unzipped it. It was the only sound in this cold truck, minus my shaky breathing. I slowly opened the lid, trembling at the sight of the thousands of dollar bills. I had at least a few thousand, maybe even a few tens of thousands. I had never really counted it, never kept track.

But at what cost? How much of my life had I given up for this money? This money that was now practically worthless. I had saved it all this time, and yet I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even get a job.

I let the suitcase fall shut, then zipped it closed and put it on the floor, hiding it under my backpack. I leaned back in my seat, pushing my black hair from my face. I considered trying to start the truck, but that would just waste gas. Besides, this town was small enough to walk to pretty much anything.

After a moment of hesitation, I took the suitcase and unzipped it. I pulled out a few dollars, only forty, then closed it back up. I needed to find some new parts for this damn truck. The truck that I had found in the junkyard years ago. The truck that I had built from the ground up. Before and after school, weekends.... Whenever I could, I was working on this truck.

Time to go get some parts.

Outside was cold, but at least it wasn't snowing too hard. I kept my head down as I walked out of the alleyway and onto the main street. It wasn't too crowded today, but those who were out and about kept glancing at me. Whatever this town was, they didn't take kindly to strangers, and I had been told to get out more than once.

Maybe I should've taken Eli up on that offer. But he had been taking care of me all my life, and I couldn't be a burden to him any longer. And so I was here. Starving and cold, living in my crappy truck in some back alley of a town that hated me.

Everyone hated me. Why, I didn't know. They just seemed to... hate me. The people in this town, especially. I didn't understand why. Maybe they were just wary of strangers. In a small, tight-knit town, it was possible.

I made it to the hardware store, pushing my jacket hoods down and pulling off my gloves. I immediately got suspicious looks. I lowered my head in a sign of submission, making myself smaller. I made my way to the back, where all the vehicle parts were, as this hardware store also doubled as a mechanic shop. Hey, maybe I could get a job here. After all, I had built my truck with parts from the junkyard, so I could easily fix a car with proper new parts and real training.

As I looked among the different parts, someone approached. Within moments, I was surrounded by intimidating people, some as young as me.

"Listen, kid," the supposed leader stepped forward. "We don't take kindly to outsiders around here. So...," she stepped concerningly close, "who are you and what do you want with Ivory Tower?"

"Ivory Tower...?" I echoed. "Is that... the name of this town?" I hadn't seen any welcome signs when I had first entered, and I barely recognized this place as a town; it was way too small.

"Something like that," she moved her jacket aside to show me the knives strapped to her thighs and hips. "Your name. Now."

"R-Raine," I said. "Raine Swann. Wh-what do you want?"

"We want you to get out of this town," the leader told me. "We protect each other. So get your parts and leave. Ivory Tower doesn't want you. And if Ivory Tower doesn't want you, the people don't want you."

"Those aren't the rules, Anna," a nearby man said. "We can be suspicious, yes, but we can not threaten and scare someone out of town." He looked at me. "You're young, kid, so I'm guessing you're trying to escape." He looked back to Anna. "Ivory Tower accepts those who are running."

"The town may accept them, but that doesn't mean we have to," Anna replied.

"It's getting late," a younger girl said. "We should get back home."

"She's right," the man said. "Come on." He looked at me. "If you've stayed here this long without getting driven out, it must mean that Ivory Tower accepts you. Might take a bit for the people to understand that. In the meantime, just focus on fixing your truck." The group began to walk away, until the man said. "Don't live in the past, kid. You've already been there."