AN: Well this chapter is still somewhat... rough in the read, even for my not-english brain, but I do not know yet, how to change it. After staring at it in despair for some weeks I decided to post it like this. Maybe someone wants to give me a pointer here and there.
Also there is still one chapter missing (well, I guess... because actually it was supposed to be finished in 2 chapters, but as it isn´t, there must be a third... )... however the pictures in my head concerning this third chapter are hazy at best. Your ideas are welcome, maybe some input makes them clearer.
Chapter 2
Pietro quickly sprinted back to the car. He rubbed his hands together in excitement, before breaking the door open and starting the engine. "That was easy as pie!" he applauded himself and drove into his adventure.
The first thing he did was opening the windows. The night wind reached through them with cold fingers, stroking his pale skin and tousling his silvery-white hair. Pietro loved this feeling. It was like an addiction.
The boy floored the gas pedal and shot with squealing tires down the street. It wasn´t long till he heard sirens in his back and a big grin spread over his face. The race was about to begin and he was ready. Talking to himself he played the sports reporter:
"Here they come! The red car is far ahead of the others driven by the untouchable Pietro! His control over the car is amazing! Now he is taking a tricky left hand bend as if it was nothing! This boy has a great future ahead!" Pietro´s grin widened even more when the look at the speedometer told him, that he was nearing 130 mph.
"Whooohoooooo! I am faster than you are!" he told the police cars visible in the mirror.
"You can´t catch me!" he then hollered out the window and laughed with glee.
He felt dizzy with adrenalin. This was way better than anything he had done before.
While the chase continued, a middle aged man with dark brown hair and glasses was slumbering peacefully on his sofa. Mr. Jeffrey had been watching a movie, but had succumbed to sleep somewhere in the middle of it, feeling the exhaustion that came from a long day working with his children at the orphanage.
He was a good man and he truly cared for his children. Maybe that was why he suddenly awoke with a strange feeling in his stomach. He stared at the still running TV. The midnight-news was on and what he heard there was not to his liking.
At once he shot up from his comfortable position and headed to the phone, dealing quickly the number of the orphanage.
"Christopher? It´s William. ... Yes, I know it is late, but tell me, is everyone in bed? ... You think so? Well, take a look please. ... Yes, yes I´ll be waiting. ..."
Minutes later Mr. Jeffrey sat in his car, speeding along the highway to the police-station that he had seen far too often from the inside since a certain boy had been dropped off on the doorsteps of his orphanage. While he had no desire to see anymore of the police-station, he prayed that said boy would end up there again and not in the hospital or worse.
As much as Pietro was in Mr. Jeffrey´s thoughts, Mr. Jeffrey by no means was part of Pietro´s thoughts.
A sharp bend was in front of him and he refused to go any slower. "Just come, you bend!" he shouted. "I will win!" He turned the steering wheel, but the car didn´t react the way he wanted it to react. Panic ran through his whole being like a lighting stroke and suddenly he felt the impact of the street under his feet. He looked up and the red car slowly, very slowly lifted itself of the ground, somersaulted in the air and came down with a silent crash. Flames, again ever so slowly, began to form on its edges and consumed the vehicle like a caterpillar in slow-motion would consume a leaf.
Pietro felt confused and just continued to stare. „Am I dreaming? Am I dead?" he wondered.
And then everything changed again. The noise was overwhelming. The sirens of the police echoed shrilly through the night and their tires screamed loudly in protest as they hit the breaks. The red car in some distance moaned and groaned under the flames. Pietro heard shouts and hands grabbed him, pulling him roughly behind a car. An explosion let the ground shake and the air was burning with heat.
Pietro clapped his hands over his ears and closed his eyes, not wanting to be part of any of this anymore. This time he didn´t look forward to the angry faces and the scolding. He knew he had gone too far and he just wanted to vanish.
"How is he? Can I see him?" Mr. Jeffrey asked breathlessly, when he had reached the hospital and the correct floor.
"He was very lucky, Will" responded officer Dan Morris. "I cannot explain how he survived this crash and with barely a scratch too, but that´s how it is. He must have had a guardian angel."
Mr. Jeffrey sighed in relief. "Where is he?"
Officer Morris pointed to a window. "Inside there, but Will, before we go to him, we have to talk. It cannot go on like this. This time there is no way that I or you can keep him from going into juvenile detention. I know you don´t want to give up on your boys, but Pietro... he is... he is...
Mr. Jeffrey put a hand on Dan´s shoulder. "I know, my friend. He is a real challenge. He seems so lost... I have never been able to reach him in these last two years. And maybe I never will." Sadly the man shook his head. "I also know that he has to go someplace else after this. What he did was no petty theft. Believe me, I know that. But what good can juvenile detention bring to a troubled soul like him, I ask you?
Both men sighed and stepped up to the window, looking at the boy, who was sitting on the edge of a bed, swinging the legs back and forth. His eyes had a strange far-away look in them and his mouth was pressed in a grim, thin line.
Before the men could continue their conversation, Pietro suddenly got up and paced the room restlessly. While it wasn´t out of the ordinary for him to be restless and fidgety, what made the men worry was that he continuously beat his fists against his head.
Mr. Jeffrey opened the door. "Pietro?" he asked his voice calm and friendly. But the child did not respond to him at all. He continued pacing and a strange, unintelligible sound came from his mouth. "Pietro! Boy, look at me!" Jeffrey called out louder and closed the space between them. He put his hands on Pietro´s shoulders and this time the reaction came instantly.
The boy´s head shot up and he stared at his guardian. Or rather he tried to, but he was not able to focus on him. His eyes were wide and his pupils moved up and down, right and left, looking at anything at once, but at nothing longer than a flitting moment.
"Dan, get a doctor! Something is very wrong here!" Jeffrey shouted, without turning to the officer.
"Pietro! Can you hear me? Pietro! Everything will be alright. You have to calm yourself!"
In a reflex he tried to enclose him in his arms, wanting nothing more than to give him comfort, but with a shriek Pietro escaped the embrace and backed into the wall. He was trembling all over and cradled his head in his hands as if he was in severe pain.
Mr. Jeffrey cursed himself silently for his mistake and kept the distance Pietro had brought between them, but he continued to talk calmly to the frightened child.
However his words had not the desired effect. Instead of getting calmer, more and more tension built in the boy´s body, till he turned around sobbing and banged his head repeatedly and with enormous force against the wall. Blood and tears mixed together and ran down his face.
Now Mr. Jeffrey had no choice. He rushed forward, trying desperately to stop Pietro from hurting himself. And then everything went very quickly. Officer Morris and the physician in charge, Dr. Luis, came bolting into the room and while his friend helped him to hold the boy down, Dr. Luis injected him with a strong sedative.
"Wanda!" Pietro sobbed, before falling limp under the hands of the men.
TBC
