I Don't Own Anything But The OCs.

The only thing granted equally to all is an unfair reality. I knew that. I'd gotten well acquainted with that truth in my 13 years of existence. Though, I'm sure the officer holding me firmly by the scruff of my neck was getting acquainted with my reality as well.

The loud music did little to mask the screams coming from within.

"Oh, yes!"

The officer shifted slightly. The NYPD badge gleamed as the light hit it. I turned and raised an eyebrow expectantly. Well?

The Brooklyn apartment hallway we were in was decrepit and the dark colors did nothing to improve upon the somber mood the place exuded.

The officer seemed to get what I meant because he scowled before taking a breath and began rapping on the door.

knock knock knock knock!

There were a few sounds of movement, damn these thin walls, before a feminine voiced yelled,

"Go Away!"

Charming, isn't she?

After more rapid knocks the door was opened to a blond disheveled hair and a woman scantly dressed with only a robe to cover her modesty. She was shapely with heavy-lidded eyes. Her mascara was smeared, and she greeted us with an apathetic face. Kathy Raptis, mother of the year!

"Hello officer-," her greeting cut off before she glanced down at me. A frown marred her face, and I responded by grinning winningly.

She sighed before saying, "What did he do this time."

The officer visibly struggled to keep his eyes level before responding, "We caught him trespassing in a private residential area," he paused before wrinkling his nose in distaste as the smell of musk and cigarettes greeted his senses. "Keep him on a leash, would you?"

I frowned minutely in distaste at being compared to a dog.

"Next time he won't meet someone as nice as me."

I scoff. The officer in question frequented these parts during patrols and had likely seen the cascade of men entering and leaving the building all throughout the day, and judging by how his eyes kept traveling her form I'd be more inclined to believe he was aiming to get lucky one of these days.

She no doubt noticed his lingering stare as she replied sultry, "I will officer" with a wink.

She took his place upon my neck and firmly guided me into the room. The apartment itself was small and littered with ashtrays, debris, and booze. A simple round table sat in the middle of the room with a sofa that had seen better days. The kitchen was to the right of the entrance. A narrow hallway led to a closet and two bathrooms while the adjacent led to the bathroom. On the couch sat a fat tub of lard that would likely be replaced by the end of the week.

I grimaced in distaste at his state of undress before wandering into my room. My mother's clients and I have an unsaid understanding that there's nothing to gain by interacting with one another.

I heard my mother close the door and let out an groan.

I'm not a normal child. That was apparent from the cognitive ability I'd shown at a young age.

My mother had noticed. That coupled with the fact that my birth itself was because of neglect and impulsivity, our relationship was destined to never be normal. If it wasn't for the fact aborting me would have killed her, I wouldn't be here, or at least that's what she told me. She treats me more like a roommate than a child. The freedom that came with that mentality I used to stay as much time away from this hole as possible.

I lunged over a pile of clothes before sitting on a sunken, worn mattress.

I sighed before scowling harshly. It was more than my intellect and awareness that set me apart from the rest. Biologically I was...odd. I've never been sick, and I was stronger and faster than what a 13-year-old had the right to be. It took a continuous effort on my part to hold myself back.

I turned to look at the mirror across from the mattress. I was tall for my age. I was 5'7 with black medium length locks. I wore a large black coat hugged my frame with a pair of grey sweatpants that lead to loosely laced boots. However, even in the dim light originated from the curtained windows, my purple, almost luminescent eyes stood out.

I opened my eyes wide, trying to make out my iris clearly.

My mother walked in and looked at me in confusion, "The hell's wrong with your face?"

I frowned and lackadaisically took off my backpack.

At my noncommittal response, she sighed and took a seat next to me. She lit a cigarette before taking a drag.

"Listen, you can't keep doing this, you're going to get arrested, and I won't be able to help you. You're lucky that cop didn't catch you with anything on you."

I tightened my jaw.

She noticed.

"Listen, I just need a little more money alright? I've filed a couple of applications and Im sure one of them will call and Ill be able to get an interview lined up. I'd be able to quit my job. Both of them. Everything is going to be alright, ok?".

We both knew she was lying. She had enough marks on her record that any Job would be hesitant in even calling back, and the ones she got she couldn't keep for long. The occasional 'favors' the landlord got was probably the only reason we haven't been evicted yet.

I shouldn't care. I know I shouldn't. It was illogical, and it made little sense for me to steal for a woman who didn't know how to love in a way that didn't involve her skirt hiked up. But she tried. Gestures and gifts that would leave her grimacing at the state of her purse, early morning grocery shopping just so I could at least find something to eat, surprise outings when I'd actually bothered to do well in school. I clenched my fist.

"Listen, I gotta go out, I'll be back in a few" she took a drag,

"Just make sure you eat something ok?"

With that, she stood before walking out and closing the door.

I looked down and into my clenched hands.

Vexing she is, that woman. I sat in silence until I heard them leave. I waited a bit more until I heard a car pull off. I got up and opened a window and climbed onto the fire escape before quickly scaling down and running East. The wind howled as I ran. I slowed down to a jog and then a brisk walk before coming to an abandoned warehouse I frequented.

It was a bit on the small side and is filled with scraps of metal and boxes. I took off my coat before picking up and the box of cargo and squatted.

*Line Break*

I walked back with my hands shoved deep into my pocket. The Sun was setting. It cast a brilliant orange across the horizon My eyes were half-lidded and I felt exhaustion weigh my every step.

Thump

My eyes snapped .

Thump

I whirled around at the nondescript faces and focused. No one else seemed to have felt it.

THUMP

I felt a sense of danger arise. I felt goosebumps and the back of my neck tingled.

I turned and scanned the sidewalk, eyes darting rapidly. Adrenaline pumped through my body. I felt my heart pounding, and yet, there was nothing of note. Two strangers passed by and eyed him before continuing on.

I gritted my teeth. The hell was this?

Then I saw them. They were across the street. Three old women.

If it wasn't for the sense of dread that accompanied their visual, I would have chuckled at the cliche basket of string and yarn that sat between them. The women themselves are wrinkled and marked heavily by time. Their hair was white as snow and they were draped in robes of grey, red, and each possessed a cloth of black wrapped around each of their shoulders. They all stared at me unblinkingly.

Moirai.

I blinked at the unbidden thought before tightening my jaw and glaring back.

One of them, on the left, spun the thread before delicately handing it to another in the middle. The middle meticulously grasped and felt the string before pinching in and holding it to the one on the far right. The one on the right then cut the allotted length with an absurd pair of shears.

My body was tight and coiled. Blood rushed to my ears and the passing pedestrians became blurred and unfocused and the mutterings and conversations quieted.

And then they spoke as one.

"A strange being you are",they declared haughtily.

"Your existence is an anomaly. Fate concealed even to our eyes," at this they all scowled before resuming,

"Who are you?"