My rewrite! Which is hopefully better!
Disclaimer- Did you notice that JP has a picture of himself on like, every book he writes? I don't even have a picture of me on my profile!
Max POV
I woke up and rolled over to look at the wall clock, a little after six am. Not time to wake up Gazzy and Angel for school yet. I rolled again to face Angel, and started stroking her beautiful blonde hair.
Yes, we were sleeping on the floor, what's so wrong about that?
I heard yelling coming from the hallway, Steve and Dave. Again. Just like every other morning.
I rolled my eyes as Gazzy and Angel woke up, looking confused about the yelling. Sounds just like our 'dad'.
I shook my head, as if to clear the thought. Dad is gone, for five years, get over it.
But Dave and Steve were waking up my brother and sister, like they did every other morning. I saw Gazzy bury his head on one of the pillows spread across the floor.
We live in a one-bedroom apartment, our mom's dead, our dad's gone, and I, age 16, provide for the family. Take care of them.
Just like I had to take care of this, Dave and Steve were wearing my patience thin.
I strolled out the coming-off-its-hinges door to our apartment and saw Dave and Steve (I'll just call them idiot 1 and idiot 2) screaming their heads off at each other, arguing about an unconscious girl that Steve had thrown over his shoulder.
His shirt was ripped, and on his arm you could see his 'Raiders' tattoo, the local gang. I'm sure Dave had one, too.
The tattoo was pretty cool, it was a red 'R' in a gray and white tornado.
The girl had a tattoo on her collarbone, blue-silver wings. The 'Night Hawks' tattoo. The Night Hawks were a gang up in rich-land, NYC. I lived in Brooklyn.
I walked up to idiot 2 (Steve) and cleared my throat. "Why do you have a girl on your shoulder?" Ha, I sounded like a concerned mom.
He looked at me like I was a crazed little kid. Hell, maybe I was.
"Max, just go back to your apartment," he said calmly, yet firm.
I just shrugged and went back inside my apartment, but didn't close the door and stood listening at it.
I was fully aware of Gazzy and Angel bouncing up and down behind me, trying to figure out what I thought was so interesting. I put my finger to my lips in the universal 'be quiet' gesture.
Angel nodded and Gazzy sulked. I pressed my ear to the door again.
"She's a higher up, they'll notice if she goes missing!" idiot 1 said in a hushed whisper.
"Our territory, we decide," idiot 2 said.
There was a pause as if they were thinking. Yeah, like that's possible.
"Next meeting, find out what the boss wants to do with her," idiot 2 spoke up, breaking the silence.
I heard heavy footsteps and turned to face Gazzy and Angel, Dave and Steve were back to their apartment, which is where they probably should have been having that conversation.
"Who wants breakfast?" I asked somewhat enthusiastically (look it up).
They both raised their hands and I laughed, they were so cute. Gazzy was 11, the same age I was when Jeb left, the same age I was when mom died two months later. Angel was a carefree 9 year old who never failed to amaze me with her endless energy.
I went into our crappy kitchenette and poured three bowls of Fruit Loops. Angel and Gazzy wolfed them down in, it had to be, like, ten seconds.
They went over and turned on our old tube TV. iCarly is such a weird show, but I never was much of a TV type. I was a sun child before we moved to the city, before Jeb started to hate us. Before Jeb started to hit us.
The kids grabbed their backpacks and walked down the stairs of our apartment and to the rundown bus which was waiting outside like it did every day.
I decided to take the day off, I had a major headache. I heard Dave and Steve chat their way to the stairs door, and then it was silent.
I wanted to know about that girl, why was a Night Hawk person in Raider territory? And why didn't they just shoot her like they did every other Night Hawk trespasser? She must have been really high up in their standings so that all Hell would break loose if she was killed.
I walked down the hallway to apartment 3N. It was better than my apartment, probably because they had more then the el-cheapo 7 eleven check coming in every two weeks.
I looked around, at first not seeing the girl, but there she was, laying on an old couch. She was tied up and gagged, and was either sleeping, unconscious, or dead.
I was hoping for either the first or second option.
After I went back to my room (3G), I got some scissors. I cut the ties and she came alive, fully alert.
Within seconds, she had an arm bar on me from behind and I was bent over in pain. She could snap my arm at any second.
"Password," she hissed in my ear.
"I don't know the password," I said, hoping she wasn't serious.
She was, though, I heard a snap, and screamed in pain. She broke my left arm!
I turned around to cuss her out, but all I saw was a blur of dark hair by the doorway.
I staggered back to my room to find something hard and straight (haha that's what she said) to tie around my arm after I set it.
I set my arm, letting out another scream of pain, silent tears falling.
I used some random rope to tie a straight piece of wood (that I broke off the wall with my other arm) to my left arm. Good thing I was right-handed.
I laid down to take a nap.
Well, what a great Monday.
