Chapter 2
Hillsboro at night was very tranquil at times. But every house and apartment complex has its history and story. Mateo Garcia for example was running away. Running for his life. Behind him were the sound of police officers, hot on his trail. Mateo fought back tears as he ran, hoping not to trip on anything. He got over fences, ran in front of a few porches and even avoided barking dogs. Mateo at last hid behind some large garbage containers outside a mobile home and the police men kept on running.
"Where did the boy go?!" cried one officer.
"I don't know. But when we find him, call the facility! He needs to be somewhere safe!" cried another officer.
"He won't be safe if he continues to run! Keep looking! He couldn't have gone far!" cried another.
"Jesus…. Did you contain the man?" asked the sheriff.
"We did. And his drunk wife is out of it. I don't know why these idiot people have kids in the first place." said an officer.
"The poor teenager. He suffered major stab wounds from the bottle." said a woman officer, her voice breaking as she said this.
"I have reason to believe the teenager was trying to defend the little one. Keep looking for him! Hillsboro at night is not safe for anybody!"
The police kept on going their way and Mateo waited silently until they have gone. Once they left, Mateo began to sob. He cried like there was no tomorrow. It all happened so fast. His beloved brother Marcos. Dead. It was impossible. There was no way he could have died like that. But he did die. That was what Mateo heard. He sobbed so much that the lights in the mobile home turned on.
"Who goes there!?" cried an Hispanic man in Spanish. Mateo didn't say a word. He slowly got up and ran off to another direction, hoping not to run into the police. He arrived shortly at the Hillsboro transit center in downtown Hillsboro. He fell on the bench and embraced himself with his arms as he kept on crying. Just then, a shadow appeared. A long black shadow emerged and it took Mateo with him.
