Greetings, readers!
thanks for deciding to read this fic.
Im writing this in some sort of twisted celebration for me joining Iced
Feelings- the Bryan/Boris fanlisting.
Well, anywho, just so ya know...
this fic will be messed up.
and flames are welcome.
So, on with the fic!
--
The wood let out a loud creak. A small boy winced, and paused to listen. Had anyone heard? When he was sure noone had, he continued to tiptoe down the hall. He paused as he got to the corner. Looking around it, he squinted in the dark to see if anyone was there. Thankfully not. Pressing against the wall, he slipped around the corner and continued his harsh journey to his destination. SNORE. He froze and his blood ran cold at the sudden loud noise. What was that? Had they found him? A million neggative theories ran through his mind and were cutt off as the noise occurred again. SNORE. Craning his head, he saw a light down the hall. Gulping, he decided to investigate. He couldnt take the chance of not. Tiptoeing towards the light, he realized it was coming from the open door in the hallway. Hesitantly, he poked his head over the door frame to peer inside the room. A large man was flopped down on a torn up couch, clutching a bottle to his chest and drooling. He was asleep. Blinking, it took the boy a moment to register that it was the mans snoring. Now, a normal boy would have giggled, but not this boy.
All day staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
All night hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
He glanced at the small black and white TV that was in front of the couch, apperantly on mute, flashing colors all over the small room. The stentch coming from the man was unbearable, even from the distance the boy was at. Wrinkling his nose in disgust at the reek, he stood up straight in the hall and ended his peeking. Gulping, he wondered how to get past the door. The old cheap wood was, as mentioned, old, and creaked even under his small weight. Nervously he stood there, trying to make up his mind. The undecisive child nervously realized he didnt have enough time to stand here and make up his mind if he was going to furfill his midnight mission. Taking in a shaky breath, he stepped out from saftey and into full veiw of the man, and paused to grit his teeth at the loud creak. Casting a glance to the side, his heart lifted with releif. The man had not woken up. Trying to make his small stride as stretched as possible, he took another step. This time the creak was just as loud but seemed to last a eternity longer. Once again casting a glance to the side, he licked his lips. The man had not woken. As soon as he prepared to make another step, a loud snort broke the air. Panic blazed against the boy like fire. He took a quick step, quicker than he would normally have dared, and hid behind the wall. Listening, he realized that the man had either: A. was making sleep noises, or B. he had woken up and seen him, and now was slowly coming towards his hiding spot! At this, the panic burned feicley, causing the boy to turn and scuttle, slowly but surely, he made it towards the door. Biting his lip as to not scream in releif, he grasped the door knob in his tiny hand, and twisted it. The door did not open. A wave of panic rushed over the boy, but he gulped it down and tried to open the door again. Soon after a few seconds, which seemed like years to the boy, the knob rattled and the door creaked open slowly. He slipped his narrow body through the door and quickly shut it. Such was the releif he felt that he collapsed on the door step and sighed. The night air was like frost bite against him, but he didnt care, he was just glad to be out of that house.
Hold on
Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown
And I don't know why
He slowly brought a hand up to his lavender colored hair and let out a squeak as he brushed a wound. Jerking his hand away instictivley, he stared at his hand in horror. Dried blood. Not alot, but still. He wiped his hand off half heartedly on his torn up jeans, and tried to block the memories.
-flashback-
He let out a gasp as he slammed against the wall. The man infront of him frowned in disgust. "such a weakling!" he slurred, taking a drink from a bottle. The boy looked up at the man slowly, fighting back the tears. He had learned long since then, NEVER to cry infront of this man. " aww, is the baby sad?" the man said in a mock baby voice, walking towards the boy. He tried to scuttle away, but there wasnt really anywhere to go when you were up against a wall. The man picked him up by the collar and spit in his face, much to his disgust. He looked as though he was going to say something, but instead took a drink from his bottle. The boy looked away, trying not to look at the man who was causing him so much pain. Apperantley the man found this funny. A horrid, hoarse laughter that made the boys ears ring broke through the air. " aww whats the matter, boy? not able to look your father in the eye?" At this the boy squeezed his eyes shut, the tears were building up. The man did not like this, so he dropped the boy on the floor, making a large THUMP as his frail body connected with the hard floor. The man kicked the boy in the ribs once, and then turned to leave. The boy didnt move, he lay there, wiping his face and cradling his ribs. Suddenly, the man turned around and through the empty bottle at the boy. " WEAKLING!" he shouted and started laughing as he left the room for good. The boy let out a yelp as the bottle smacked his forhead and hit the wall behind him.
-end of flashback-
He chokcd on the air at the horrid memory. Wishing he hadnt thought of it at all, he pushed himself up and stood to decide his place. That memory had put a large amount of doubt in him. Was it really wise for him to leave the house?
He looked over at the small bag he had been carrying. He had decided to run away after that little 'meeting' with his father, and had stuffed all of his belongings, which was only some small shreds of what was clothing for him and one or two niknaks, into a paper bag. He had also collected some money, though it was very little, only about 3 or 4 rubels. He picked his luggage up and grasped it tightly in his shaking hands. What if his father found him? He shuddered at the thought of what that wretched man would do. He gulped, and shook his head to try to get the thought out of his mind. No! He had to get away! The boy stopped shaking his head as he felt something icy cold trickle down his face.
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
He brought a hand up to his face and touched the cold salty substance. He was crying. Quickly wiping his face with his shirt sleeve, he walked down the steps, and broke into a run as the thin soles of his shoes touched the icy snow of Russia. The crunching of the snow was loud in the silence of the night. The boy ran until his veins pumped battery acid,and until his joints felt like mush. He ran until he felt as though he'd cough up blood. How exactly long, though, he'd ran,he was clueless. Before he knew it, he was leaning against a wall of some building panting and coughing. Looking up, he realized he was in some part of Russia he didnt know. He wasnt sure weither to panic or not about this. After all, if he was in some part HE didnt know about, maybe it was some part his father would know about. But then again, he didnt know about it, and that made him feel helpless. Still, the idea of being away from his tormenter over powered his feeling of fear, so he walked down the street cautiously. The sun was rising. He hadnt realized how late he had left or how long he had ran. At the sight of the bright orange sky, his body suddenly ran out of batteries. He was so tired that he felt he would collapse. It was then the boy realized....where was he to sleep? Even he had grown up to know that it wasnt safe for little boys to go to sleep in alleys. There were rapists and molesters and murderers.... The list of dangers seemed to go on forever in the nervous boys mind. He sighed and looked around. It appeared to be a normal town, with shops lining the streets and a few houses and apartments down the ways. The boy bit his lip, and tried to decide what to do.
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be...me
His heart sunk as he realized there was noone for him to go. And he was so tired... His sight was getting blurry, and suddenly the world went black as he slumped to the ground. -- He squeezed his eyes shut as the light poured over his face. "mm.." he muttered, unappreciativley to the sun. His hand went upward to sheild his eyes from the bright glow. One eye opened slightly to take in the surroundings, but immediatley closed as the sun scorched it. Turning away from the bright glow of sunlight, he settled resting on his shoulder and started to drown in the abyss known as sleep again. A ringing sound made his eyes snap wide open. Sitting up, he realized where he was. This wasnt his room! The young boy looked around panicy abit before remembering the events that had occured the night before. He settled down and look around for the source of the noise. He was slumped up against the wall of some building, and there was a old man coming out of the door giving him a strange look. He blushed and pushed him self up, pulling himself into a crooked stand. Looking at the building, which he noted, had a bell on the door, he took in that it was a bakery. Whilst looking through the window and seeing all the bread and pasteries, his stomach gave a small turn. He blinked, noticing for the first time that he hadnt had anything to eat in quite a while. The door's bell rung fully waking him up as he stepped inside the shop.
I'm talking to myself in public
Dodging glances on the train
And I know, I know they've all been talking about me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me
Looking around the room, he almost drooled. There were shelves stacked with cakes and candies, and bottles of wine and vodka. But what mostly caught his attention was the counter with fresh bread on it. Walking up to it, he stared at the glorious food and felt his stomach rumble again. A sudden gasp made him nearly jump out of his skin. He jerked his head to see a plump woman standing infront of the counter. " Oh deary! what a small child! so skinny too! are you after some bread?"
He blinked in suprise, and felt a bit of panic in him at the sudden yelp and appearance of this strange woman. She was very plump, it seemed she had never had too little cake, and had large dimples that were pulling her mouth into a smile. Her small beady eyes twinkled in delight over the small boy from under her bushy mass of curly golden brown hair. Judging by her apron, she was the cashier. Slowly he nodded to her question and managed to work up the courage to studder out. " h-how much,miss?" he asked quietly. This seemed to make the woman happier. " such a polite boy!" she gushed, reaching a large hand over to ruffle his lavender locks. He winced as she brushd his wound a bit, but even so, he did not trust this woman nor like her touching him. Gritting his teeth, he bared through it. " are you an orphan?" she asked, her voice having a tint of sympathy in it. He was just about to shake his head, when he realized that it would not be wise to let loose that he was a runaway. This woman could turn him in back to his father! He had to hold back his shudder at the thought as he nodded slowly. " Oh..you poor dear!" the woman said, clasping her hands together. He forced a small smile of 'appreciation' on his face for the womans pity. Although he really hated the idea of this beached whale taking pity on him. Suddenly, the womans large hand went under the counter and pulled out a large knife. His eyes widen, and he took a step back, and the woman chuckled. " here, have some bread!" she said, cutting a healthy slice of bread and wrapping it up. " On the house!"Blinking, he stared at the woman for a moment in disbeleif.
Out of all the hours thinking
Somehow I've lost my mind
" Go on, go on!" the woman said, pushing the bread towards him. After pausing for a moment, he reached out a shaking hand towards the bread. " there now.." the woman said, hand still clutching the knife. He gulped, and grasped his fingers around the bread. As soon as he started to pull it off the counter, the knife dropped and slammed into the counter only inches away from his fingers. He yelped and pulled the package off the counter, backing away so quickly that he almost fell down. The woman grinned sinisterly at him, her hand grasping the fallen blade while the other pressed against the counter to put pressure on pulling it out of the splintered wood. " oops, silly me!" she said, still grinning. " now now, come here, wont you?" His eyes widened and he gulped. With a dreadfull sound she pulled the knife out of the wood, and started her way around the counter. " now, hold still deary.." she said in the same sweet tone she had used earlier. He stood frozen to the spot as she came towards him, and when she raised the knife above her head something clicked. Quick as a rabbit, he sped out of the way of the knife that engraved itself into the floor on which he had been standing seconds before, and out of the accursed shop. As he ran down the street, he could hear the woman bellowing after him. He ran around the corner and stopped to listen. After a few moments of silence, he peeked around the corner and didnt see anyone. He sighed in releif and grasped his chest, feeling his small heart poundng against his ribcage. Taking in large breaths of air, he walked down the side walk and examined his surroundings. This area seemed to be more made of shops and alleys. He walked down the street, and a empty alley with a few trash cans caught his attention. Pulling himself up onto one to sit, he opened the bag of bread and stared at it. Was it ok to eat? After all, the woman who made it had wanted to chop him up, so what if the bread was made of little boys? Sticking his tounge out in disgust at the thought, his stomach growled again. Whimpering, he grit his teeth and looked at the bread desperatley. He was so hungry! Finally, after a moment of thought ( and hunger) he decided to take the risk. Opening the bag completley and reaching a small hand in, he pulled out a small slice and took a bite.
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
" MPH!" He made a loud sound of approval. The bread was delicious! And his raging hunger only made it all the more enjoyable. It seemed the bread was made of bread, not bones. He smirked happily and took another bite. Looking around, he decided against falling asleep against little-boy-chopping-up- womens' bakerys again, and took to thinking about where he was to sleep tonight. It was a good question. Where WAS he going to sleep? He finished off his slice of bread and tied up the bag. Apperantley he was smart enough to know not to waste it all at once. Stuffing the bag of bread into his paper bag, he jumped off the trash can and wiped the crumbs off his mouth. Upon further observation, he took in that this place had a very torn down look about it, which did about...well, lets see....NOTHING, to calm his nerves. Slowly walking down the pavement, a sudden wind blew, causing him to shiver. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a ratty sweater, and put it on. It didnt do alot, but still, it was something. He squinted his eyes as the wind blew again, and looked up. The sky was still tainted orange, though not as much. His guess was that it was around 8 or 8:30. The sky was starting to turn a dull grey. It always did that in Russia, especially before it rained. Was it going to rain? Probally. That was just his luck. Sighing, he looked away from the depressing rain promising sky and at the sidewalk. ' So now what?' he thought to himself. ' what do I do now?' He felt rather stupid now. He hadnt thought about anything like that. No plan, no anything. He had just thought about escaping the wretched place he called home. Running a hand through his hair, he bit his lip. Maybe he could find a inn or something to stay at. But how could he afford something like that? 4 rubels *really* was not that much. Things really couldnt get much worse than this. But of course, they did.
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be...me
-- YAY! finished at last. Well people, R&R please! I need support! MEGA SUPPORTO! BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh yesh, I dont own Beyblade or MatchBox 20's Unwell. ^__^
The wood let out a loud creak. A small boy winced, and paused to listen. Had anyone heard? When he was sure noone had, he continued to tiptoe down the hall. He paused as he got to the corner. Looking around it, he squinted in the dark to see if anyone was there. Thankfully not. Pressing against the wall, he slipped around the corner and continued his harsh journey to his destination. SNORE. He froze and his blood ran cold at the sudden loud noise. What was that? Had they found him? A million neggative theories ran through his mind and were cutt off as the noise occurred again. SNORE. Craning his head, he saw a light down the hall. Gulping, he decided to investigate. He couldnt take the chance of not. Tiptoeing towards the light, he realized it was coming from the open door in the hallway. Hesitantly, he poked his head over the door frame to peer inside the room. A large man was flopped down on a torn up couch, clutching a bottle to his chest and drooling. He was asleep. Blinking, it took the boy a moment to register that it was the mans snoring. Now, a normal boy would have giggled, but not this boy.
All day staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
All night hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
He glanced at the small black and white TV that was in front of the couch, apperantly on mute, flashing colors all over the small room. The stentch coming from the man was unbearable, even from the distance the boy was at. Wrinkling his nose in disgust at the reek, he stood up straight in the hall and ended his peeking. Gulping, he wondered how to get past the door. The old cheap wood was, as mentioned, old, and creaked even under his small weight. Nervously he stood there, trying to make up his mind. The undecisive child nervously realized he didnt have enough time to stand here and make up his mind if he was going to furfill his midnight mission. Taking in a shaky breath, he stepped out from saftey and into full veiw of the man, and paused to grit his teeth at the loud creak. Casting a glance to the side, his heart lifted with releif. The man had not woken up. Trying to make his small stride as stretched as possible, he took another step. This time the creak was just as loud but seemed to last a eternity longer. Once again casting a glance to the side, he licked his lips. The man had not woken. As soon as he prepared to make another step, a loud snort broke the air. Panic blazed against the boy like fire. He took a quick step, quicker than he would normally have dared, and hid behind the wall. Listening, he realized that the man had either: A. was making sleep noises, or B. he had woken up and seen him, and now was slowly coming towards his hiding spot! At this, the panic burned feicley, causing the boy to turn and scuttle, slowly but surely, he made it towards the door. Biting his lip as to not scream in releif, he grasped the door knob in his tiny hand, and twisted it. The door did not open. A wave of panic rushed over the boy, but he gulped it down and tried to open the door again. Soon after a few seconds, which seemed like years to the boy, the knob rattled and the door creaked open slowly. He slipped his narrow body through the door and quickly shut it. Such was the releif he felt that he collapsed on the door step and sighed. The night air was like frost bite against him, but he didnt care, he was just glad to be out of that house.
Hold on
Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown
And I don't know why
He slowly brought a hand up to his lavender colored hair and let out a squeak as he brushed a wound. Jerking his hand away instictivley, he stared at his hand in horror. Dried blood. Not alot, but still. He wiped his hand off half heartedly on his torn up jeans, and tried to block the memories.
-flashback-
He let out a gasp as he slammed against the wall. The man infront of him frowned in disgust. "such a weakling!" he slurred, taking a drink from a bottle. The boy looked up at the man slowly, fighting back the tears. He had learned long since then, NEVER to cry infront of this man. " aww, is the baby sad?" the man said in a mock baby voice, walking towards the boy. He tried to scuttle away, but there wasnt really anywhere to go when you were up against a wall. The man picked him up by the collar and spit in his face, much to his disgust. He looked as though he was going to say something, but instead took a drink from his bottle. The boy looked away, trying not to look at the man who was causing him so much pain. Apperantley the man found this funny. A horrid, hoarse laughter that made the boys ears ring broke through the air. " aww whats the matter, boy? not able to look your father in the eye?" At this the boy squeezed his eyes shut, the tears were building up. The man did not like this, so he dropped the boy on the floor, making a large THUMP as his frail body connected with the hard floor. The man kicked the boy in the ribs once, and then turned to leave. The boy didnt move, he lay there, wiping his face and cradling his ribs. Suddenly, the man turned around and through the empty bottle at the boy. " WEAKLING!" he shouted and started laughing as he left the room for good. The boy let out a yelp as the bottle smacked his forhead and hit the wall behind him.
-end of flashback-
He chokcd on the air at the horrid memory. Wishing he hadnt thought of it at all, he pushed himself up and stood to decide his place. That memory had put a large amount of doubt in him. Was it really wise for him to leave the house?
He looked over at the small bag he had been carrying. He had decided to run away after that little 'meeting' with his father, and had stuffed all of his belongings, which was only some small shreds of what was clothing for him and one or two niknaks, into a paper bag. He had also collected some money, though it was very little, only about 3 or 4 rubels. He picked his luggage up and grasped it tightly in his shaking hands. What if his father found him? He shuddered at the thought of what that wretched man would do. He gulped, and shook his head to try to get the thought out of his mind. No! He had to get away! The boy stopped shaking his head as he felt something icy cold trickle down his face.
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
He brought a hand up to his face and touched the cold salty substance. He was crying. Quickly wiping his face with his shirt sleeve, he walked down the steps, and broke into a run as the thin soles of his shoes touched the icy snow of Russia. The crunching of the snow was loud in the silence of the night. The boy ran until his veins pumped battery acid,and until his joints felt like mush. He ran until he felt as though he'd cough up blood. How exactly long, though, he'd ran,he was clueless. Before he knew it, he was leaning against a wall of some building panting and coughing. Looking up, he realized he was in some part of Russia he didnt know. He wasnt sure weither to panic or not about this. After all, if he was in some part HE didnt know about, maybe it was some part his father would know about. But then again, he didnt know about it, and that made him feel helpless. Still, the idea of being away from his tormenter over powered his feeling of fear, so he walked down the street cautiously. The sun was rising. He hadnt realized how late he had left or how long he had ran. At the sight of the bright orange sky, his body suddenly ran out of batteries. He was so tired that he felt he would collapse. It was then the boy realized....where was he to sleep? Even he had grown up to know that it wasnt safe for little boys to go to sleep in alleys. There were rapists and molesters and murderers.... The list of dangers seemed to go on forever in the nervous boys mind. He sighed and looked around. It appeared to be a normal town, with shops lining the streets and a few houses and apartments down the ways. The boy bit his lip, and tried to decide what to do.
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be...me
His heart sunk as he realized there was noone for him to go. And he was so tired... His sight was getting blurry, and suddenly the world went black as he slumped to the ground. -- He squeezed his eyes shut as the light poured over his face. "mm.." he muttered, unappreciativley to the sun. His hand went upward to sheild his eyes from the bright glow. One eye opened slightly to take in the surroundings, but immediatley closed as the sun scorched it. Turning away from the bright glow of sunlight, he settled resting on his shoulder and started to drown in the abyss known as sleep again. A ringing sound made his eyes snap wide open. Sitting up, he realized where he was. This wasnt his room! The young boy looked around panicy abit before remembering the events that had occured the night before. He settled down and look around for the source of the noise. He was slumped up against the wall of some building, and there was a old man coming out of the door giving him a strange look. He blushed and pushed him self up, pulling himself into a crooked stand. Looking at the building, which he noted, had a bell on the door, he took in that it was a bakery. Whilst looking through the window and seeing all the bread and pasteries, his stomach gave a small turn. He blinked, noticing for the first time that he hadnt had anything to eat in quite a while. The door's bell rung fully waking him up as he stepped inside the shop.
I'm talking to myself in public
Dodging glances on the train
And I know, I know they've all been talking about me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me
Looking around the room, he almost drooled. There were shelves stacked with cakes and candies, and bottles of wine and vodka. But what mostly caught his attention was the counter with fresh bread on it. Walking up to it, he stared at the glorious food and felt his stomach rumble again. A sudden gasp made him nearly jump out of his skin. He jerked his head to see a plump woman standing infront of the counter. " Oh deary! what a small child! so skinny too! are you after some bread?"
He blinked in suprise, and felt a bit of panic in him at the sudden yelp and appearance of this strange woman. She was very plump, it seemed she had never had too little cake, and had large dimples that were pulling her mouth into a smile. Her small beady eyes twinkled in delight over the small boy from under her bushy mass of curly golden brown hair. Judging by her apron, she was the cashier. Slowly he nodded to her question and managed to work up the courage to studder out. " h-how much,miss?" he asked quietly. This seemed to make the woman happier. " such a polite boy!" she gushed, reaching a large hand over to ruffle his lavender locks. He winced as she brushd his wound a bit, but even so, he did not trust this woman nor like her touching him. Gritting his teeth, he bared through it. " are you an orphan?" she asked, her voice having a tint of sympathy in it. He was just about to shake his head, when he realized that it would not be wise to let loose that he was a runaway. This woman could turn him in back to his father! He had to hold back his shudder at the thought as he nodded slowly. " Oh..you poor dear!" the woman said, clasping her hands together. He forced a small smile of 'appreciation' on his face for the womans pity. Although he really hated the idea of this beached whale taking pity on him. Suddenly, the womans large hand went under the counter and pulled out a large knife. His eyes widen, and he took a step back, and the woman chuckled. " here, have some bread!" she said, cutting a healthy slice of bread and wrapping it up. " On the house!"Blinking, he stared at the woman for a moment in disbeleif.
Out of all the hours thinking
Somehow I've lost my mind
" Go on, go on!" the woman said, pushing the bread towards him. After pausing for a moment, he reached out a shaking hand towards the bread. " there now.." the woman said, hand still clutching the knife. He gulped, and grasped his fingers around the bread. As soon as he started to pull it off the counter, the knife dropped and slammed into the counter only inches away from his fingers. He yelped and pulled the package off the counter, backing away so quickly that he almost fell down. The woman grinned sinisterly at him, her hand grasping the fallen blade while the other pressed against the counter to put pressure on pulling it out of the splintered wood. " oops, silly me!" she said, still grinning. " now now, come here, wont you?" His eyes widened and he gulped. With a dreadfull sound she pulled the knife out of the wood, and started her way around the counter. " now, hold still deary.." she said in the same sweet tone she had used earlier. He stood frozen to the spot as she came towards him, and when she raised the knife above her head something clicked. Quick as a rabbit, he sped out of the way of the knife that engraved itself into the floor on which he had been standing seconds before, and out of the accursed shop. As he ran down the street, he could hear the woman bellowing after him. He ran around the corner and stopped to listen. After a few moments of silence, he peeked around the corner and didnt see anyone. He sighed in releif and grasped his chest, feeling his small heart poundng against his ribcage. Taking in large breaths of air, he walked down the side walk and examined his surroundings. This area seemed to be more made of shops and alleys. He walked down the street, and a empty alley with a few trash cans caught his attention. Pulling himself up onto one to sit, he opened the bag of bread and stared at it. Was it ok to eat? After all, the woman who made it had wanted to chop him up, so what if the bread was made of little boys? Sticking his tounge out in disgust at the thought, his stomach growled again. Whimpering, he grit his teeth and looked at the bread desperatley. He was so hungry! Finally, after a moment of thought ( and hunger) he decided to take the risk. Opening the bag completley and reaching a small hand in, he pulled out a small slice and took a bite.
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
" MPH!" He made a loud sound of approval. The bread was delicious! And his raging hunger only made it all the more enjoyable. It seemed the bread was made of bread, not bones. He smirked happily and took another bite. Looking around, he decided against falling asleep against little-boy-chopping-up- womens' bakerys again, and took to thinking about where he was to sleep tonight. It was a good question. Where WAS he going to sleep? He finished off his slice of bread and tied up the bag. Apperantley he was smart enough to know not to waste it all at once. Stuffing the bag of bread into his paper bag, he jumped off the trash can and wiped the crumbs off his mouth. Upon further observation, he took in that this place had a very torn down look about it, which did about...well, lets see....NOTHING, to calm his nerves. Slowly walking down the pavement, a sudden wind blew, causing him to shiver. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a ratty sweater, and put it on. It didnt do alot, but still, it was something. He squinted his eyes as the wind blew again, and looked up. The sky was still tainted orange, though not as much. His guess was that it was around 8 or 8:30. The sky was starting to turn a dull grey. It always did that in Russia, especially before it rained. Was it going to rain? Probally. That was just his luck. Sighing, he looked away from the depressing rain promising sky and at the sidewalk. ' So now what?' he thought to himself. ' what do I do now?' He felt rather stupid now. He hadnt thought about anything like that. No plan, no anything. He had just thought about escaping the wretched place he called home. Running a hand through his hair, he bit his lip. Maybe he could find a inn or something to stay at. But how could he afford something like that? 4 rubels *really* was not that much. Things really couldnt get much worse than this. But of course, they did.
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be...me
-- YAY! finished at last. Well people, R&R please! I need support! MEGA SUPPORTO! BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh yesh, I dont own Beyblade or MatchBox 20's Unwell. ^__^