Chapter Thirty-Three
John leaned against the wall outside the broken down Seven Eleven, blowing a cloud of smoke from his lungs. He knew he shouldn't have bought the pack of Marlboros, knew that Clarissa and the other members of the family would smell it on him like a bloodhound on the trail of a runaway, but he couldn't ignore the nagging voice in his head that had been telling him he needed a smoke.
He took another long drag from the half-burned cigarette, knocking the ash off of the end with the skill of an old man who'd been smoking his whole life. He let his body absorb the nicotine before blowing the smoke out.
He'd thought about getting rid of his fake ID, but was happy that he'd kept it now. He checked his watch, noticing that it was almost seven o'clock, the sun just starting to set. He stubbed out the butt of the cigarette on the sole of his boot, dropping the orange filter onto the sidewalk before continuing on through the worst part of town he could find.
He made sure to hide his limp as he walked, remembering how if the gangs saw a weakness they'd take full advantage of it. Instead he relied on his broad shoulders and Bender scowl to scare them off, happy that he'd gotten a large bone structure from his father and his sharp cutting gaze from both of his parents. He'd been born with his mother's eyes, the same chocolate brown and the same long dark lashes lining them, but he'd learned the ability to use his father's stare to strike terror into his opponents' hearts. He looked up as he noticed an old diner, his stomach giving a hungry growl for the first time in what felt like years.
He walked inside, taking a deep breath of the smell of burgers on the grill. He nodded at the young woman who greeted him, forcing a smile onto his face.
She gave him a dazzling smile, picking up a menu from the stack on the counter as he took a seat. "What can I get you?" She asked, forcing herself to ignore his scarred arms.
He looked up at the blonde, reading the name on the tag pinned to her uniform. "I'll take a black coffee." He stated, hoping that it hadn't been sitting on the burner all day. "And… can I get an order of eggs and toast, over easy?" He smiled as she set the mug down in front of him, picking up the sugar container and dumping enough into the beverage to give Amelia diabetes let alone him. "Thank you, Annie."
She furrowed her brow at the young man, noticing that under his mature features there was something about him that made him look like a child. "How old are you, Sweetie?" She asked, taking the menu from him as she placed his order in the window to the kitchen.
John took a swig of his coffee, coughing slightly as it burned his already raw throat from the smoke. "Seventeen." He ran his finger through the few granules of sugar on the counter, avoiding the knowing look she gave him when she caught a whiff of the smoke that crowded around him.
She nodded, turning to pick up his order from the window and placing the plate in front of him. "What's a sweet kid like you doing around here?" She asked, knowing that this wasn't the sort of place anyone would go willingly.
He spread a pad of butter over his toast, looking up at the woman. "My folks got a little pissed off at me, so I thought I'd take a walk for a while." He took a bite of his eggs, scooping them onto his toast. "Figured that a twenty-four-hour diner was a good place to hangout for a while."
She tilted her head, dropping her gaze to his scars. "Is everything alright at home?" She asked, watching as he nodded.
"My folks aren't actually my parents, they're my foster family." He swallowed his food, running his hand over his arm self-consciously. "My parents are in prison for this."
She nodded, relieved that he wasn't being hurt at home. She'd seen far too many kids pass from abuse when she was a nurse in the ER. "I'm glad you're okay."
John nodded, pulling a small book from the waistband of his jeans and a pencil from his shirt pocket. "I am too." He started scribbling in the book, letting Annie go back to work as he started to entertain himself with his words.
The Dark Road
I used to live down
that dark street where
all the monsters dwelled -
then I began to break free
One monster, attractive on the
outside, spread her poison and
now my quest to spend my life
side by side with my princess,
Is in jeopardy and may end before
it begins. She's my yesterday, my today and
my tomorrow. She's my center and compass,
without her, I'm adrift in the sea of life
The dark road is long and the
monsters are many. They still
appear in my dreams and
I have to be ready.
I'm both the gate and a line
of defense, if I fall, much is
lost. Like Atlas, I carry the
weight of the world.
As I walk out that door, the black
specter of anger and guilt stretches
out to me from down that dark
road like wicked claws.
I see long years without her
I feel dirty, damaged and cursed
I smell the cloud of tragedy on my skin
And I often hear the voice of doom
My hopes and dreams are anchored to my
princess, she holds the key to my heart.
From that first day, there was a spark.
When my anger fades, so will my walls.
Whispers from dark places, make loved ones
doubt and call me a liar. Despite my fear I run
down that dark road facing my demons, trying
to quench my anger at the world, why can't I be happy?
He chewed on the end of his pencil, looking up as Annie set another plate in front of him. "I didn't order anything else." He stated, looking hungrily at the powdered donuts.
She smiled, refilling his coffee for the third time in the last hour. "You looked like you could use a snack."
John noticeably blanched, worried that she'd noticed his lack of body mass. "Thank you." He took a bite of the sugary snack, trying to cover up his worry about her noticing his weight. "It means a lot."
She nodded, looking up as another customer walked into the restaurant. "Hello!" She greeted, picking up a menu and motioning to a seat at the counter. "Take a seat anywhere you like."
"Thank you, Miss."
John's heart dropped, looking over to see officer Jenkins sliding into a seat a few chairs down from him. "Fuck." He breathed as the cop noticed him.
"Well, if it isn't Johnny Bender." He looked at the white powder on John's nose and upper lip, cocking a brow at the smell of smoke clinging to the kid. "You snorting coke this close to the trial?"
John rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the cop and returning to his book.
Leon tilted his head, remembering what his good friends in John's neighborhood had said about him being in a mood when he'd left the house. "Heard you had a fit earlier, got yourself kicked out of the house."
John picked up his coffee mug, taking a long drink of the beverage.
"Heard that little redhead was pretty upset. Heard that you gave her a few good hits, before you left." He smirked as John turned to him, not expecting the kid to have that fire behind his eyes.
"Fuck off!" He shouted, balling his fists in his jeans. "I didn't hit her! I would never hit her, and I never have!"
Annie stepped back, shocked that the docile kid had turned so fast. "Sir, if you wouldn't mind letting him enjoy his meal."
Leon looked at the book, noticing that John was trying to keep it hidden from his view. "That a list of dealers?" He asked, reaching for the beat-up notebook behind John's arm.
"Fuck off!" John snatched the book up, shoving it into the back of his pants. "It's my own work, I'm not letting a crooked cop see what I think." He glared at the man, remembering what Thomas had told him to do if he saw Leon or Jessica before the trial. "Besides, you're not even supposed to be talking to me with the trial and all."
Leon lifted his hands up, backing off of the obviously threatened kid. "I'm just trying to get a feel for my niece's rapist."
"I didn't rape her!" He shouted, drawing the attention of the few other people in the diner. "She's the one who tried to rape me!"
Leon placed a five-dollar bill on the counter, finishing his coffee now that he'd gotten John riled up. "Thank you for the coffee honey." He motioned to how close John was to the register. "I'd keep an eye on him, there's been a string of robberies in the area and I'd hate to see you lose any money."
John bit into a donut, refusing to acknowledge Leon's comment. "Eat my shorts." He mumbled, just loud enough for Leon to hear him.
Hey guys! So this chapter is not 100% mine! The poem was written by my good friend HMG2000! Thanks for writing it! I can't wait to start writing all the other ideas and putting more of your poems in here!