Author's Note: I wasn't going to update until chapter 3 is done, but I'm putting this story somewhat on hold, so i decided to add chapter two, even though it's not great.

'Do you know where the real hell is hiding? It's inside your head.' - Crona

I ducked behind a bush, looking at what used to be my house. I hoped to run in and grab some stuff before they started demolition, but now I could see his was gonna be more difficult than I had thought. Breaking into my house would make too much noise, and I couldn't very well walk up to the front door and check if it was locked. Not with workers swarming the place. I crouched farther down and chewed a thumbnail while I thought. I realized the scent of the mulch was comforting to me. It reminded me of when we were all together.
"Hey. Need some help?" There, with a smile and a cocked head, but the self assured look of a bad-boy, was my best friend from my childhood. I call him my best friend because he's the person I knew best and talk to the most, which wasn't often. His name was Jean, and he was someone I could count on to keep a secret.
"See that house over there?" I pointed to the white-paneled house with the green roof in front of the very bushes I was hiding in. He followed my gaze.
"Yeah, you mean your house?" We played this game often. I would pretend that I lived with him and had never seen my house before in my life. Because, in truth, his place felt more like home to me.
"No," I said, shaking my head. "THAT house." I pointed to it again.
"What about it? It's a nice house."
"I heard that they're going to demolish it." I heard Jean's sharp intake of breath. We'd expected that it would happen someday, but saying it out loud somehow made it worse.
"And I need to get inside to grab a few things." I continued, pulling his hand until he was level with me. I looked him straight in the eyes.
"And I could really use some help. Maybe a certain hero of the town could distract the workers in hard hats?" OK, hero of the town was a bit of a stretch, but he actually was a hero of the cul-de-sac. He often stopped the kids from bullying the weaklings, people like me. And sometimes I got bullied, too, and Jean put a stop to it. I owed him a lot.
"Got it." He gazed at the workers a bit, his eyes flicking back and forth. I always wondered if he had trained in karate or something. When he has a job to do, he'd become focused in a way he never was otherwise. He was diciplined, ready for anything, and able to see an attack a mile away.
"Go." He started forward, never taking his eyes off the workers. I ran around the bushes, to the back of the house. There was one person there. As I was contemplating how to get past him, there was a yell from someone in front of the house, and the man walked away to see what the commotion was. I got to the back door and went right, walking along the side of the house until I found my bedroom window. I looked up at it, figuring out if I could jump that high. I didn't have much time, so I went for it, leaping up to catch the edge of the window sill. Hanging onto the edge hurt my fingers, but I used my free hand to pull myself up. I fumbled with the fire escape, finally breaking in. I looked around, grabbed a few things, and jumped back out the window. Unfortunately, the worker was back and yelled at me.
I ran towards Jean's house, went around the back of it, and finally out into the street again, hiding behind a parked car. About 20 seconds later, Jean joined me, his eyes sparkling.
"That was fun. Got everything you need?" I nodded. In a split second, I decided that I could tell Jean what I'd been thinking about. He wouldn't think I was crazy, and if he did, well, I was leaving the area anyway. I couldn't stay around here with the police so hyped to get me.
Long story.