The heat, the smell, the man with the menacing smile. It all made her grimace with fear. She dare not move, she just stand there her back against the wall, the man's hand traveling over her body….
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Nichole's eyes ripped open. Her body was shaking…from fear? She turned her head, her eyes peering into her friend's. They held a look of fear and panic. Oh Shit! It was happening! Her curly brown hair flew wildly around her face as she sat up, crawling to the end of the broken mattress she called a bed, and ripped a tattered bag from underneath it.
"How long do we have, Mary?" Nichole asked searching the bag checking if she had everything. Shirt, pants, cigarettes. It wasn't much, but it was hers.
"Not much. I was trying to wake you for a while." Mary's hand tightened around the pillowcase that held her belongings. The same as Nichole's in exception of the cigarettes. Her eyes expanded, her emotions becoming more evident. "You were having that dream again, weren't you?"
Nichole paused, the images floating back to the depths of her mind. That night, that dark miserable night. It occurred two years ago at the age of thirteen, but the dreams still haunted her. Mary was the only one who knew, and probably stay the only one. She shook her head furiously placing a cigarette in her mouth. "I can't talk about this now. Let's just get the hell out of here."
Mary quickly dropped the painful subject and they left, but not before glancing back at the small room, they called a home for so long. The only home they ever had. Besides the orphanage, but that wasn't a home that was hell. Imparting a sigh, they closed the door to one of the many chapters of their obscured lives.
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Mary watched lazily as a small stone sailed through the sky, the sound of splashing water echoing through the cool night air. She leaned against the frosty steel of the bridge. The Brooklyn Bridge to be exact. Sweeping a hand through her limp blonde hair she swung around and hung her feet over the edge. They still ached from the lengthy two-day walk, although they had been sitting here for about an hour. Mary's face still held a smirk, though. She couldn't even imagine how stupid her expression was as the bridge came into their view. Nichole nearly threw herself on it. They almost lost all hope after walking north for two days straight, no food, no civilization, and not knowing where they would end up. They really didn't have time to consider what route to take, or where they would end up. Just to get away from that house as soon as possible.
Mary threw a smug smile in Nichole's direction. "You think New York is a good place to stay?"
"There is no good place to stay. We ain't safe nowhere." Nichole truthfully replied, sending another stone into the water.
Mary's smile faded, her face stern, thinking how her life ever turned out like this. What if she hadn't run away with Nichole, but instead she stayed at the orphanage? Would she be somewhere in Queens living the high life? And what would have happened to Nichole? She laughed silently to herself. She'd be in jail. That's where she would be. They would've hauled her ass to jail long ago if I weren't there to sweet talk the basterds out of it. She laughed loudly into the night air this time. Yup, we make a good team. The sweet talker and a streetsmart jabber.
Nichole stopped throwing rocks and turned sending Mary a bewildered look. "What are you laughing about?"
She shook her head. "Nothing really, just thinking of the what-ifs and buts. You know what would have happened if we never met. If I stayed at the orphanage and lived a normal life."
"Nobody lives a normal life."
There was a short silence. The only sound was their steady breathing.
"Do you regret running away?" It was a stupid question, which she already knew the answer too. It just seemed like the right thing to say.
Mary searched her friend's face for some kind of emotion. "You know I don't. It's just those two days of walking tired me out, and you know how I get when I'm tired. Life just seems so meaningless sometimes."
"Well, you know you can always head back."
"What! Is that some kind of joke. We are too far away to go back. Besides, I would never make it without you."
Nichole lip tugged into a playful, aggroant smile. "Yup, I know."
They both slapped each other playfully. Standing, they grabbed their bags and headed into Brooklyn, the beginning of what they hoped would be a decent life.
The spark of a match illuminated the small area the two friends sat. The shade of probably the only tree in the city protecting them from the morning sun. Nichole flicked the match to the ground and help herself to a long drag of the cigarette. Mary eyed her with discust.
"Nick, I don't know how you sit there and enjoy inhaling that crap."
Nichole shrugged nonchalantly. "It's relaxing. You should try it. You seem tense."
Mary pushed the offering away, laughing. "I think I have a reason to be tense. We're in Brooklyn with no money and no where to stay." She ran a hand over her tired face. "You said it yourself, we ain't safe nowhere."
Nichole exhaled a cloud of smoke and returned the laugh. That was true, she had said that, but the fact was they were in New York. Thousands, maybe even millions of people lived here. It would be impossible to find two teenage girls if you didn't know where to look.
"Yea, I said that, and it's true, but look at the bright side. We're in New York, the place dreams come true." Nichole spread her hands out infront of her.
Mary rolled her eyes playfully. "Dreams? What dreams? We ain't got no dreams."
"Yea, well we better get some, because I plan to fulfill some kind of dream while we're here."
Mary's face flushed with embarrassment. Her eyes concentrating on the cigarette Nichole threw to the ground. "I know what I like to accomplish while I'm here."
Nichole rolled her eyes in the same fashion Mary had earlier. Her eyes watched her friend's smile widen, and her face flushed a nice shade of red. She had to laugh. Mary took it up to herself to remind her every chance she had, that she wanted a boyfriend. The result of her poor upbringing, and the need to be loved.
Nichole pointed an accusing finger. "You, Mary Robinson, are not as innocent as you look."
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"You think this is a good place?"
Mary shrugged, leaning in the opening of an alley. "If you want to know what I think. I think we should split up. We could cover more ground that way. Pick more pockets."
"I don't think it matters if we split up or not. There are enough people walking past to make us rich." Nichole pushed her body off the cold cement of the alley, joining Mary at the entrance. "I think we should stay together. It's safer that way."
Nichole nudged her lightly in the side to win Mary's attention back from a boy towing a stack of newspapers with him. Her cheeks grew red, furiously. "Would you stop looking at boys! We kinda need to make a living here."
Mary sighed, focusing her attention back on Nichole. "Sorry. Look, why don't you go and scoop out Manhattan. See what kinds of people live there. I'll stay here."
Nichole nodded, and glanced around the corner, catching a backside glimpse of the boy. She could not understand why Mary would want to associate with these boys. Maybe as a friend, but as a mate?…No. They didn't know how to love; they just knew how to break hearts.
"Fine. Just be careful. I'll meet you back here in a few hours."
Mary mumbled a response and watched Nichole until she could see her no more. She looked out into the crowded streets, her eyes clouding over with thought. She should have said something. She should have told Nichole she didn't want to do this. Pickpocket, that word was repulsive to her, running through the streets stealing others belongings.
"What do you want us to do? Get a job in the factory? It's either this or we starve and die in the streets"
That is exactly what Nichole would say. She was just that kind of person. All she cared about was herself. She long ago accepted the fact that the streets were the only place for her. She didn't want rules, and people telling her what to do and how to act. She wanted to be her own person, and the only way to do that she told Mary once, was to be a streetrat. She was made to live that way.
Mary on the other hand didn't belong in the streets, nor did she want to be there. She had admited to herself a long time ago it was a lot better of then the orphanage, but this was no way to live. She'd rather own a house, and have a loving husband to take care of her.
Mary couldn't survive out here, she was too soft spoken and loving. Besides her talent of sweettalking herself out of dangerous situations, she had nothing. Nothing to protect her except Nichole. She depended on her.
She rubbed her face, anger written all over it. She was angry with herself. Angry she was thinking all these thoughts. She loved Nichole like a sister and would do anything for her. Sometimes she just had to get away, away from her harsh reality.
Nichole weaved in and out of the throngs of people invading the street. Her pace slowed her feet aching from the enduring walk from Manhattan. Her eyes brightened as her fingers played with the numerous wallets in her pocket. The walk was absolutely worth it. If Mary had done as well as she had, they would be well off.
She halted, her eyes searching the alley she left hours ago. Her eyes clouded over with confusion and fear. Mary was no where to be seen. Nichole's mind suddenly flooded with every horrible situation possible. IShe could be in an alley raped, maybe even dead. Rats crawling over her body…No, No! Don't think like that. Just remain calm and you will find her.
For the second time that day her body ceased to a halt. The world around her froze, her stare locked on the Pub and her friend. Two boys escorting her to danger. Mary was too drunk to acknowledge it. Nichole's eyes narrowed into an icy stare as she flew across the street and threw a murderous punch.
With one down and the other to shocked to move, she leaned Mary's limp body against a building. She was too involved in Mary's drunken condition to acknowledge the boy behind her. She was soon on her feet in a tight bear hug. She was losing her breath quickly.
Using her elbows, she jabbed him in the sides and wiggled free. She shifted her weight to her right foot and sent the same murderous punch she had to the first. A crunch of bone and blood stained pavement signified a broken nose. Standing up straight, as if she was stretching, she took a breather. She caught movement of the first boy out of the corner of her eye. Something clicked in her mind.
These boys belonged to a gang, cult, whatever you decided to call it. The point was they all stuck together. You soak one you soak them all. The moment this got out, they would be all over her like rat on cheese. Being a girl didn't stop this impulse. They had to find a place to stay, a place very distant from Brooklyn.