Casey Macdonald was sitting in Central Square, when a gang of boys walked by. She fell into herself trying to stay away from them as much as possible. Casey shuddered, there was already a lot of crime in Ottawa, and she tried to avoid it as much as possible. She got up and bought a coffee, and noticed there was a satchel underneath the trees. She went over to it. There was clothes, money, sketch books, and to her distain a few packaged syringes.
She looked for a tag, and found Derek Venturi stitched into the side. She believed the gang of guys that passed her earlier maintained the owner, but she wasn't willing to take that chance. She asked around and found out that all the people who had heard of him pointed in the same direction. She had to go into the Underground. She walked to the end of the tunnel, trying to ignore the squishing from beneath her feet.
At the end what appeared to be a small town was there. She walked over to the first woman she saw, "Do you know Derek Venturi?" She pointed to a boy trying to warm his self by the fire. She slowly walked over to him ,and tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, and looked at her with a glint of suspicion in his eyes. "Are you Derek Venturi?" "What do you care?" He asked with his arms crossed. He was filthy, smelly, and looked like he hadn't slept or ate in weeks on end. Why did she care? Casey wanted to back away a few feet just to get away from his stench, but at the same time she wanted to tuck the stray lock of that greasy, sandy brown hair, to get a better look at his chocolate eyes.
"Well, if you're not the owner of this then I will just take it to the authorities." She went to march away, but he grabbed her shoulder. She yelped, and slapped him away. Causing him to wince. "Sorry, that just startled me." She handed him the satchel. "How old are you?" "How old are you?" He repeated back in arrogance. "Sixteen," she answered unphased. "Same." "Why do you live down here?" "What is this the freakin' inquiry?" "No, I was just curious." "Well, obviously I have no where else to go." She sat down next to him. "That's so sad." He looked at her, and saw the sincerity in her eyes.
"Why did you go through all the trouble to bring this back to me?" "I don't know." And she didn't. "Casey!" She stood up, dusting herself off. Her father, Sam Macdonald, approached them. "What do you think you're doing down here young lady?" "I could ask you the same thing." "I'm working." Casey shrugged, "I was just returning Mr. Venturi's satchel back to him." "Well, including My. Venturi in on this that young lady needs to have her blood looked at so we're taking her to a hospital." "She'll get locked away." "Unless you have a needle young man then she'll have to go."
"He does," Casey said. Producing one from the bag. Derek groaned. But the nurse took it from Casey's hands. "We're going to have a talk about that later, Venturi." "Daddy, we have a spare bedroom don't we?" "Yes, you know that honey." "Maybe if Derek was willing to go straight he could stay there." Sam put a hand through his hair, "Honey, I can't watch him all the time." "But he'll be in school with me, I'll watch him. Besides he's not going to do anything anyways." Derek just stood there mouth opening and closing without producing a sound.
"What do you think about it? It's better than juvenile hall or a group home." He shrugged his shoulder, unsure of himself. "It kind of is." Mr. Macdonald waited til his daughter was out of earshot to continue. "If you even give my daughter a wrong look I'll send you to Delta Venturi." Derek nodded fear, furrowing onto his face.