Ok, this is yet another attempt at a fanfic by me, but a first by myself.
I hope you all enjoy. Ummmm...the Schwarz boys aren't mine (sigh), some of
the ideas are not mine. They belong to Koyasu Takehito-sama and project
Weiß. My sources are mostly my friend Katashi Usagi and her "a-mucking"
across the world wide web. I also dedicate this to her, because many of
the ideas are from the two of us, 3:00 in the morning, high on green tea.
Ummm..all other idea are mine. If there is any similarity to real people
or real life events, don't sue me. Ok, I think that's all. Enjoy!
************************************************************************
Tokyo, Japan
"Otousama, onegai! Onegai!" Megumi threw herself at her father's feet.
"Get rid of it! I no longer call that thing my grandson." He stood stalk still, staring out into oblivion. "That child is the work of the devil. I do not want it in my sight."
Megumi was in tears. "But he's my son! He's my."
".if he's your son, then you do something about him. If you do not." he looked down at his daughter's tear filled eyes, "then you force me to."
He walked out of the room. Megumi looked up to see a blurry image of her mother sitting in a chair next to where her father had stood. Her mother went over and knelt down next to Megumi, embracing her.
"Hush child, everything will be alright."
"Doshite, Okaasan? Why did he have to be born different? Why does dad have to be so unreasonable?"
Mother stroked Megumi's hair. "I don't totally disagree with your father. Think about how society will accept you or the boy. Both of you will be outcasts. He won't be able to go to school and what if he uses this ability of his to do harm; to himself or to others?"
Megumi brought her head up and looked at her mother. "Whose side are you on?"
"I'm not on anyone's side. I am simply stating a fact. In the end, I hope you decide what to do before you father does." At that, she hugged Megumi on last time, got up and left the room.
Megumi wiped the tears from her face and eyes and left the room as well. She walked down a hallway to the room at the end... She opened the door and looked at the small figure sitting on the floor across the room staring out the window. She went over and pulled the child to her.
In a moaning cry, she blurted out, "Oh Nagi, Nagi, Nagi-chan, why? Why do you have to be different?"
The child was starting to cry too. "Gomen nasai, Okaasan."
Megumi looked down at the boy's tear filled eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It's not your fault, honey. It's not your fault at all."
The two of them held each other, rocking back and forth, for what seemed like hours. Megumi stared out into oblivion, thinking of what she wanted to do; how she was going to do it. After a while, she looked down at her watch. "Early evening," she thought. She then looked out the window, again thinking, "Sun's still up."
Megumi wiped her nose and then her eyes. "Nagi-chan," she wiped his eyes, "I want you to get your coat. We are going to go on a little walk, ok?"
Nagi wiped his nose, still attempting to calm down. "Hai." He left the room, heading toward the closet by the front door to the house.
Megumi stood up. She still wasn't quite sure what she was going to do. Perhaps an idea would come to her while they were walking around the neighborhood. As she was about to walk out the door, Megumi noticed a little stuffed toy that her husband had gotten Nagi for his first birthday sitting on the dresser. She picked it up and looked at it. She remembered the day he had died, that horrible accident, that day she found out her son was different. A shiver ran down her spine. Setting the toy back down on the dresser, she walked to the front door where Nagi was patiently waiting.
Megumi got her coat and purse and the two of them left the house. It was a fair spring day; a slight breeze, a warm sun, it almost made her forget about why she was out walking in the first place. Megumi walked slowly, letting her son's three-year-old legs catch up to hers. She looked down at him. He had stopped crying and seemed to have brightened up, but his eyes still showed so much sorrow in them.
The two of them walked around for about half an hour before they came to the main part of the town. The sidewalks were much more crowded; people going home from work, others just out and about. Megumi looked around at all the people; happy, carefree, no problems.none like hers anyway. She held on tightly to the little hand that was in hers; guiding Nagi around sidewalk obstacles. Megumi noticed his happiness was returning. This is how she liked to see her son, and herself.
Just at that moment, Megumi felt a pull at her arm. A tall figure ran past her with her purse in its hand. "Ahhhhhh! Thief!" she screamed out. People turned to look at her and then searched for the culprit whom she was yelling about. Megumi started to cry again. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the figure continue down the street with her life in its hand.
Nagi looked at his mother, tears streaming down her face, and then looked down the street to where the thief was still running. Suddenly, Megumi saw the figure make an abrupt turn and smash into the building next to it. She thought to herself, "That didn't look like a turn, it looked like he flew-."
Megumi looked down at her son and then up again. This time she noticed some people looking at them. "Oh, Nagi."
Nagi started to cry again. "Okaasan, why are they looking at me?"
Megumi didn't answer. She didn't want to answer. She tried to deny it. Suddenly she heard someone call out, "It was you, wasn't it?" She scanned the crowd looking for a face to the voice, but no one revealed them selves. Nagi was crying harder than before. People were starting to talk. Megumi knew, she just knew they were talking about Nagi, her little boy that did nothing wrong; did nothing to deserve this.
Nagi looked for a place to run. But, there were people everywhere, almost everywhere. He let go of his mother's hand and darted across the street.
"Nagi-chan!" Megumi screamed. Cars were coming. She ran into the street after her son. A car honked its horn. She gave Nagi a shove. He fell face first to the side, scraping his knees and his cheek. He never heard the brakes squeal. He never saw his mother's body fly several feet forward. He never saw his mother alive again.
Nagi didn't realize what had happened. He got up and started to cry, mostly because his knees now hurt but also because he saw his mother's body on the road. But now everybody was looking at him. He felt something building inside of him, like a bubble; a very big bubble. The world was blurry; his mind was blurry. The bubble started to hurt him; in his mind, in his body. He had to release it or he thought he would explode. Nagi took in a deep breath. "OKAASAN!!!!" Release.
When he opened his eyes, nothing was around him. There were no people, no cars, no garbage cans, no telephone poles, nothing. It looked as if everything that was around him had been blown away.
Now he was more scarred then he was before. He ran again; down the street as far as he could. He kept running until he had no strength left in him to run. He stopped next to an alleyway. There he sat down in the opening of it, buried his head in his scratched knees and cried until he fell asleep.
************************************************************************ Later that year: Berlin, Germany
"So what are you doing after school?" Till said to the redheaded boy walking next to him.
"Umm, I don't know. Probably just helping my mom housework or something. If I get it done today, I can sleep in and go out tomorrow." The redheaded boy smiled. He always liked Saturdays. Spending time with his mom. He always got some sort of a present from her on Saturday. He never realized how much money she seemed to earn from the bakery where she worked. But he didn't care.
The two boys headed down to the Wall. That's where they split on their walk home. Sitting there by the Wall, as there was every day, was an old homeless guy. The two boys walked over to him. In unison, "Gutan Tag, Hier Landstreicher. Wie geht es Ihnen?"
The old man looked up. "Guten Tag boys. I am just fine. The weather is warm and the sun is shinning. You boys doing good in school?"
Till answered, "Yes Sir, we are. Actually, I should probably be going. I have some homework. Auf Wiedersehen Hier Landstreicher. Bis später Ulrich."
"Ja, Tschüs Till. Auf Wiedersehen Hier Landstreisher." Ulrich turned around and walked in the opposite direction of his friend. Mr. Landstreicher was right. It really was a beautiful day. It made him want to go home and see his mother. With that thought, he ran off down the street to the apartment building in which he resided on the 4th floor. It was a small apartment, but it was just the two of them so it was just big enough. His mother did work awfully hard to keep it furnished and looking pretty damn clean.
As Ulrich approached the apartment building, he saw in front several police vehicles. A wave of fear went through him. Police cars were never a good sign, ever. He ran to the apartment. As he got closer, the thoughts started to flow into his head. Everybody was thinking about something. He stopped and grabbed his head, trying to make sense of them. "Christ, one at a time! Why do you people have to think so loud?!"
He got to the front steps. One of his neighbors was standing on the front stoop. "Ulrich, you had better stay down here."
"Why?"
"They went up to your apartment. It's probably best if you stay away from them."
"But my mother." Ulrich ran up the 5 flights of steps to his apartment. As he got up the steps and turned the corner into his hallway, he saw the police officers coming down the hallway with his mother in tow; her hands cuffed around her back, kicking and screaming.
"Mutter!"
"Ulrich, Lauft!" she screamed down the hall. One of the officers said something to one of them and he came down the hall after Ulrich.
Ulrich turned and flew down the steps with the cop on his tail. He ran out to the sidewalk and down the street. He didn't know what was happening. "What could Mother have done?" he thought to himself. "What could they want with her?" He looked behind him to see the cop still running after him. "Ach, mein Gott!"
"Stop!" the officer called from behind him. "I said stop you little punk!"
Suddenly, there was a break in the sidewalk and Ulrich caught his foot on it. He went flying through the air and landed with a hard thud on the ground. He could feel his skin rip as he slid across the pavement.
Suddenly, he was grabbed by his hair and yanked upward. "When a police officer tells you to stop, you stop young man."
Ulrich closed his eyes. He searched for the most remote place in his mind and buried himself there. His body went limp.
"Hey, I'm talking to you." The man shook him. "Hey, boy." Ulrich didn't respond.
In his mind, Ulrich kept saying to himself, "Stay with it..stay alert...stay attached..don't fall deeper in...you'll never come out.." He did this some times. If he felt threatened, he would hide in his mind. He felt nothing from the outside world and it was quiet in there. The one place where he couldn't hear everybody else. He's been very careful about hiding in there though. There was one time he fell into his mind and couldn't get out. He remembered how it scared his mother half to death. She said he'd been in a coma for 3 days. He promised never to do it again. "I should wake up now. I don't want to get too comfortable."
The thoughts started to some back. Everybody at once. It felt like someone punched him in the brain. The pain subsided momentarily and he opened his eyes. He was lying on a bench in an office. A man walked in.
"Oh, gut. You're awake. We weren't sure how long you would be there."
"Where's my mother?" Ulrich asked the man.
"You need not worry yourself about that. As soon as your paperwork is processed, you'll be out of here."
Ulrich looked at him; burrowing his eyes into the side of the front of the man's head. Ulrich lay there, probing the man's thoughts. "I am not going to an orphanage."
The man looked at him. "You don't have much of a choice, young man."
Ulrich got up and walked over to the desk. He leaned over and looked the man strait in the eyes. "No, you listen to me old man, I.am.not.going.to.an.orphanage."
The man looked at him. In an almost monotone voice, he said to Ulrich, "Of course you aren't."
"You are going to go and see where my mother is."
"Ja, I am." The man got up and left the room. Ulrich stood there staring at the chair where the man just sat. In a few moments, the man returned and sat back down. "Your mother is at another facility."
"Then you are going to take me. Understand?"
The man rose. "Yes, I do." He walked out of the room and Ulrich followed him. The two of them walk through the office building to the front and exited. The man's car was parked on the side of the building.
But as they got around the building, the officer that had brought Ulrich in was coming toward them.
"Hey, you," he yelled out to Ulrich. He came speed walking up toward where they stood.
Ulrich panicked and pushed the man into the officer and ran the opposite way.
He still had a mental link with the one man and told him to punch the cop. "That'll buy me some time anyway."
Ulrich went running down the street. He looked behind him, but he never saw that cop. He wasn't sure how long he had been running, but the sun was setting and he was near the Wall.
He stopped and looked to his left. If he went that way, he would go home which is where the cops probably still were and waiting for him, in which they would take him and he would end up in an orphanage and never see his mother again. He looked to his right. He could see the old man in the distance. If he went that way, he could hide from the cops for a while anyway and still possibly have a chance of finding his mother again.
Ulrich turned to his right and walked down the street. He soon approached the old man. "Guten Abend, Hier Landstreisher. How are you?"
"Ulrich, what are you doing out at this later hour?"
"Tja.you will never guess what happened to me today." ************************************************************************ Two Years Later: New England, United States
The door opened and a boy walked in. He walked across the room and opened the velvet curtains hanging from the large windows...
"It's 7:00 Brad. You're going to be late for school."
Bradley Crawford slowly opened his eyes to look at the underside of his pillow. "Morning already?" he said aloud to himself. He bent his neck up so the pillow fell from the shag on his head called hair back to the bed and then let his neck go limp so his head dropped back into his pillow; this time staring at the top side of it. "I don't want to go to school." He said to his brother who was still attempting to open the curtains on the 3rd and final window.
"I don't think you have much of a choice," he said back. He walked across the room and was about to walk out of the room but stopped and turned to face Bradley's bed. "I want you to know that no matter what Dad says, I'm still on your side. Although, I hope you haven't taken what he said to heart.you know he's strict and set in his ways and all that shit."
Brad set his arm on the pillow so he could see over the fluff that was in his face.
His brother looked at him. He then crossed his arms and in a defensive tone said, "Not that I'm being mushy or anything, I'm just merely stating a fact."
"Thank you. But you're too late. Dad has stated his point of view, which is the point of view of many of the people who live in this town, which he has so fondly pointed out, or should I say, thrown at me. This isn't the first time I've noticed it either," Brad turned over onto his back. "And besides, this isn't the first time I've thought about getting out of everybody's hair either. Believe me, the notion has been swimming through my head for quite some time now."
His brother uncrossed his arms. "I wish you wouldn't go."
Brad turned his head and looked at his brother. "Why?"
He crossed his arms again. "Well.you'll be missed and you haven't even finished high school."
"Who? Who will miss me? The town sure as hell won't. Dad would throw me out with his own two hands if he could pick me up and, hell mom is scared shitless of me. And as far as school goes, do I look like I give a rat's ass.have I ever given a rat's ass?"
"You know, you used to always tell me, when people have made fun of me not to let it get to me; that it'll pass and eventually, no one will even notice. Well, maybe you should follow your own advice. Here you are ready to run to the other side of the world instead of facing it and letting it be.
Brad sat up and stared at his brother to see if he was joking or not. When he decided that he wasn't, "You are a moron. You had a pimple problem. I have a mental problem. Unless I have a zit in my head and your acne can see the future, they are two different problems that can't be dealt with in the same way. Now get out of here."
"Maybe I don't want to go. Maybe I want you to talk about this."
"You're the one that doesn't want to be late for school. And since the bus is coming around the corner now, I'd suggest you get out of here."
Brad's brother's eyes went wide. Suddenly he dashed down the hallway to the steps and downstairs to grab his stuff. "You'd better be in school later," he yelled back as he was flying down the steps, "or at least still here when I get home." He then slammed the front door.
"Dumb-ass."
Brad sat there in bed, thinking about everything, especially about the night before. How his father finally said everything he'd thought about Brad; everything. It's not as if he didn't know how his father felt, how everybody felt about him, but he never realized how bad it affected him when he actually heard it said aloud to him. As if he didn't have enough mental problems as it was. "Why am I putting up with this," he thought to himself. "If something is causing pain or suffering, isn't it logical to stop it or get away from it?"
He stopped thinking. Brad flung the blankets off of him and got up. "That's it," he said aloud, "I'm outta here."
***********************************************************************
************************************************************************
Tokyo, Japan
"Otousama, onegai! Onegai!" Megumi threw herself at her father's feet.
"Get rid of it! I no longer call that thing my grandson." He stood stalk still, staring out into oblivion. "That child is the work of the devil. I do not want it in my sight."
Megumi was in tears. "But he's my son! He's my."
".if he's your son, then you do something about him. If you do not." he looked down at his daughter's tear filled eyes, "then you force me to."
He walked out of the room. Megumi looked up to see a blurry image of her mother sitting in a chair next to where her father had stood. Her mother went over and knelt down next to Megumi, embracing her.
"Hush child, everything will be alright."
"Doshite, Okaasan? Why did he have to be born different? Why does dad have to be so unreasonable?"
Mother stroked Megumi's hair. "I don't totally disagree with your father. Think about how society will accept you or the boy. Both of you will be outcasts. He won't be able to go to school and what if he uses this ability of his to do harm; to himself or to others?"
Megumi brought her head up and looked at her mother. "Whose side are you on?"
"I'm not on anyone's side. I am simply stating a fact. In the end, I hope you decide what to do before you father does." At that, she hugged Megumi on last time, got up and left the room.
Megumi wiped the tears from her face and eyes and left the room as well. She walked down a hallway to the room at the end... She opened the door and looked at the small figure sitting on the floor across the room staring out the window. She went over and pulled the child to her.
In a moaning cry, she blurted out, "Oh Nagi, Nagi, Nagi-chan, why? Why do you have to be different?"
The child was starting to cry too. "Gomen nasai, Okaasan."
Megumi looked down at the boy's tear filled eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It's not your fault, honey. It's not your fault at all."
The two of them held each other, rocking back and forth, for what seemed like hours. Megumi stared out into oblivion, thinking of what she wanted to do; how she was going to do it. After a while, she looked down at her watch. "Early evening," she thought. She then looked out the window, again thinking, "Sun's still up."
Megumi wiped her nose and then her eyes. "Nagi-chan," she wiped his eyes, "I want you to get your coat. We are going to go on a little walk, ok?"
Nagi wiped his nose, still attempting to calm down. "Hai." He left the room, heading toward the closet by the front door to the house.
Megumi stood up. She still wasn't quite sure what she was going to do. Perhaps an idea would come to her while they were walking around the neighborhood. As she was about to walk out the door, Megumi noticed a little stuffed toy that her husband had gotten Nagi for his first birthday sitting on the dresser. She picked it up and looked at it. She remembered the day he had died, that horrible accident, that day she found out her son was different. A shiver ran down her spine. Setting the toy back down on the dresser, she walked to the front door where Nagi was patiently waiting.
Megumi got her coat and purse and the two of them left the house. It was a fair spring day; a slight breeze, a warm sun, it almost made her forget about why she was out walking in the first place. Megumi walked slowly, letting her son's three-year-old legs catch up to hers. She looked down at him. He had stopped crying and seemed to have brightened up, but his eyes still showed so much sorrow in them.
The two of them walked around for about half an hour before they came to the main part of the town. The sidewalks were much more crowded; people going home from work, others just out and about. Megumi looked around at all the people; happy, carefree, no problems.none like hers anyway. She held on tightly to the little hand that was in hers; guiding Nagi around sidewalk obstacles. Megumi noticed his happiness was returning. This is how she liked to see her son, and herself.
Just at that moment, Megumi felt a pull at her arm. A tall figure ran past her with her purse in its hand. "Ahhhhhh! Thief!" she screamed out. People turned to look at her and then searched for the culprit whom she was yelling about. Megumi started to cry again. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the figure continue down the street with her life in its hand.
Nagi looked at his mother, tears streaming down her face, and then looked down the street to where the thief was still running. Suddenly, Megumi saw the figure make an abrupt turn and smash into the building next to it. She thought to herself, "That didn't look like a turn, it looked like he flew-."
Megumi looked down at her son and then up again. This time she noticed some people looking at them. "Oh, Nagi."
Nagi started to cry again. "Okaasan, why are they looking at me?"
Megumi didn't answer. She didn't want to answer. She tried to deny it. Suddenly she heard someone call out, "It was you, wasn't it?" She scanned the crowd looking for a face to the voice, but no one revealed them selves. Nagi was crying harder than before. People were starting to talk. Megumi knew, she just knew they were talking about Nagi, her little boy that did nothing wrong; did nothing to deserve this.
Nagi looked for a place to run. But, there were people everywhere, almost everywhere. He let go of his mother's hand and darted across the street.
"Nagi-chan!" Megumi screamed. Cars were coming. She ran into the street after her son. A car honked its horn. She gave Nagi a shove. He fell face first to the side, scraping his knees and his cheek. He never heard the brakes squeal. He never saw his mother's body fly several feet forward. He never saw his mother alive again.
Nagi didn't realize what had happened. He got up and started to cry, mostly because his knees now hurt but also because he saw his mother's body on the road. But now everybody was looking at him. He felt something building inside of him, like a bubble; a very big bubble. The world was blurry; his mind was blurry. The bubble started to hurt him; in his mind, in his body. He had to release it or he thought he would explode. Nagi took in a deep breath. "OKAASAN!!!!" Release.
When he opened his eyes, nothing was around him. There were no people, no cars, no garbage cans, no telephone poles, nothing. It looked as if everything that was around him had been blown away.
Now he was more scarred then he was before. He ran again; down the street as far as he could. He kept running until he had no strength left in him to run. He stopped next to an alleyway. There he sat down in the opening of it, buried his head in his scratched knees and cried until he fell asleep.
************************************************************************ Later that year: Berlin, Germany
"So what are you doing after school?" Till said to the redheaded boy walking next to him.
"Umm, I don't know. Probably just helping my mom housework or something. If I get it done today, I can sleep in and go out tomorrow." The redheaded boy smiled. He always liked Saturdays. Spending time with his mom. He always got some sort of a present from her on Saturday. He never realized how much money she seemed to earn from the bakery where she worked. But he didn't care.
The two boys headed down to the Wall. That's where they split on their walk home. Sitting there by the Wall, as there was every day, was an old homeless guy. The two boys walked over to him. In unison, "Gutan Tag, Hier Landstreicher. Wie geht es Ihnen?"
The old man looked up. "Guten Tag boys. I am just fine. The weather is warm and the sun is shinning. You boys doing good in school?"
Till answered, "Yes Sir, we are. Actually, I should probably be going. I have some homework. Auf Wiedersehen Hier Landstreicher. Bis später Ulrich."
"Ja, Tschüs Till. Auf Wiedersehen Hier Landstreisher." Ulrich turned around and walked in the opposite direction of his friend. Mr. Landstreicher was right. It really was a beautiful day. It made him want to go home and see his mother. With that thought, he ran off down the street to the apartment building in which he resided on the 4th floor. It was a small apartment, but it was just the two of them so it was just big enough. His mother did work awfully hard to keep it furnished and looking pretty damn clean.
As Ulrich approached the apartment building, he saw in front several police vehicles. A wave of fear went through him. Police cars were never a good sign, ever. He ran to the apartment. As he got closer, the thoughts started to flow into his head. Everybody was thinking about something. He stopped and grabbed his head, trying to make sense of them. "Christ, one at a time! Why do you people have to think so loud?!"
He got to the front steps. One of his neighbors was standing on the front stoop. "Ulrich, you had better stay down here."
"Why?"
"They went up to your apartment. It's probably best if you stay away from them."
"But my mother." Ulrich ran up the 5 flights of steps to his apartment. As he got up the steps and turned the corner into his hallway, he saw the police officers coming down the hallway with his mother in tow; her hands cuffed around her back, kicking and screaming.
"Mutter!"
"Ulrich, Lauft!" she screamed down the hall. One of the officers said something to one of them and he came down the hall after Ulrich.
Ulrich turned and flew down the steps with the cop on his tail. He ran out to the sidewalk and down the street. He didn't know what was happening. "What could Mother have done?" he thought to himself. "What could they want with her?" He looked behind him to see the cop still running after him. "Ach, mein Gott!"
"Stop!" the officer called from behind him. "I said stop you little punk!"
Suddenly, there was a break in the sidewalk and Ulrich caught his foot on it. He went flying through the air and landed with a hard thud on the ground. He could feel his skin rip as he slid across the pavement.
Suddenly, he was grabbed by his hair and yanked upward. "When a police officer tells you to stop, you stop young man."
Ulrich closed his eyes. He searched for the most remote place in his mind and buried himself there. His body went limp.
"Hey, I'm talking to you." The man shook him. "Hey, boy." Ulrich didn't respond.
In his mind, Ulrich kept saying to himself, "Stay with it..stay alert...stay attached..don't fall deeper in...you'll never come out.." He did this some times. If he felt threatened, he would hide in his mind. He felt nothing from the outside world and it was quiet in there. The one place where he couldn't hear everybody else. He's been very careful about hiding in there though. There was one time he fell into his mind and couldn't get out. He remembered how it scared his mother half to death. She said he'd been in a coma for 3 days. He promised never to do it again. "I should wake up now. I don't want to get too comfortable."
The thoughts started to some back. Everybody at once. It felt like someone punched him in the brain. The pain subsided momentarily and he opened his eyes. He was lying on a bench in an office. A man walked in.
"Oh, gut. You're awake. We weren't sure how long you would be there."
"Where's my mother?" Ulrich asked the man.
"You need not worry yourself about that. As soon as your paperwork is processed, you'll be out of here."
Ulrich looked at him; burrowing his eyes into the side of the front of the man's head. Ulrich lay there, probing the man's thoughts. "I am not going to an orphanage."
The man looked at him. "You don't have much of a choice, young man."
Ulrich got up and walked over to the desk. He leaned over and looked the man strait in the eyes. "No, you listen to me old man, I.am.not.going.to.an.orphanage."
The man looked at him. In an almost monotone voice, he said to Ulrich, "Of course you aren't."
"You are going to go and see where my mother is."
"Ja, I am." The man got up and left the room. Ulrich stood there staring at the chair where the man just sat. In a few moments, the man returned and sat back down. "Your mother is at another facility."
"Then you are going to take me. Understand?"
The man rose. "Yes, I do." He walked out of the room and Ulrich followed him. The two of them walk through the office building to the front and exited. The man's car was parked on the side of the building.
But as they got around the building, the officer that had brought Ulrich in was coming toward them.
"Hey, you," he yelled out to Ulrich. He came speed walking up toward where they stood.
Ulrich panicked and pushed the man into the officer and ran the opposite way.
He still had a mental link with the one man and told him to punch the cop. "That'll buy me some time anyway."
Ulrich went running down the street. He looked behind him, but he never saw that cop. He wasn't sure how long he had been running, but the sun was setting and he was near the Wall.
He stopped and looked to his left. If he went that way, he would go home which is where the cops probably still were and waiting for him, in which they would take him and he would end up in an orphanage and never see his mother again. He looked to his right. He could see the old man in the distance. If he went that way, he could hide from the cops for a while anyway and still possibly have a chance of finding his mother again.
Ulrich turned to his right and walked down the street. He soon approached the old man. "Guten Abend, Hier Landstreisher. How are you?"
"Ulrich, what are you doing out at this later hour?"
"Tja.you will never guess what happened to me today." ************************************************************************ Two Years Later: New England, United States
The door opened and a boy walked in. He walked across the room and opened the velvet curtains hanging from the large windows...
"It's 7:00 Brad. You're going to be late for school."
Bradley Crawford slowly opened his eyes to look at the underside of his pillow. "Morning already?" he said aloud to himself. He bent his neck up so the pillow fell from the shag on his head called hair back to the bed and then let his neck go limp so his head dropped back into his pillow; this time staring at the top side of it. "I don't want to go to school." He said to his brother who was still attempting to open the curtains on the 3rd and final window.
"I don't think you have much of a choice," he said back. He walked across the room and was about to walk out of the room but stopped and turned to face Bradley's bed. "I want you to know that no matter what Dad says, I'm still on your side. Although, I hope you haven't taken what he said to heart.you know he's strict and set in his ways and all that shit."
Brad set his arm on the pillow so he could see over the fluff that was in his face.
His brother looked at him. He then crossed his arms and in a defensive tone said, "Not that I'm being mushy or anything, I'm just merely stating a fact."
"Thank you. But you're too late. Dad has stated his point of view, which is the point of view of many of the people who live in this town, which he has so fondly pointed out, or should I say, thrown at me. This isn't the first time I've noticed it either," Brad turned over onto his back. "And besides, this isn't the first time I've thought about getting out of everybody's hair either. Believe me, the notion has been swimming through my head for quite some time now."
His brother uncrossed his arms. "I wish you wouldn't go."
Brad turned his head and looked at his brother. "Why?"
He crossed his arms again. "Well.you'll be missed and you haven't even finished high school."
"Who? Who will miss me? The town sure as hell won't. Dad would throw me out with his own two hands if he could pick me up and, hell mom is scared shitless of me. And as far as school goes, do I look like I give a rat's ass.have I ever given a rat's ass?"
"You know, you used to always tell me, when people have made fun of me not to let it get to me; that it'll pass and eventually, no one will even notice. Well, maybe you should follow your own advice. Here you are ready to run to the other side of the world instead of facing it and letting it be.
Brad sat up and stared at his brother to see if he was joking or not. When he decided that he wasn't, "You are a moron. You had a pimple problem. I have a mental problem. Unless I have a zit in my head and your acne can see the future, they are two different problems that can't be dealt with in the same way. Now get out of here."
"Maybe I don't want to go. Maybe I want you to talk about this."
"You're the one that doesn't want to be late for school. And since the bus is coming around the corner now, I'd suggest you get out of here."
Brad's brother's eyes went wide. Suddenly he dashed down the hallway to the steps and downstairs to grab his stuff. "You'd better be in school later," he yelled back as he was flying down the steps, "or at least still here when I get home." He then slammed the front door.
"Dumb-ass."
Brad sat there in bed, thinking about everything, especially about the night before. How his father finally said everything he'd thought about Brad; everything. It's not as if he didn't know how his father felt, how everybody felt about him, but he never realized how bad it affected him when he actually heard it said aloud to him. As if he didn't have enough mental problems as it was. "Why am I putting up with this," he thought to himself. "If something is causing pain or suffering, isn't it logical to stop it or get away from it?"
He stopped thinking. Brad flung the blankets off of him and got up. "That's it," he said aloud, "I'm outta here."
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