Chapter Ten:
Wesley and I leave the house. It doesn't feel right to stay there without Jack, Issac, and Ben. We take all the clothes we can wear at one time and the photo album.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"Wherever is safe," he says. We hold hands and head out into the world.
For the first couple of nights it's rough. The last chill of winter bites cold and hard and hunger sets in like an illness. We barely stay alive on things people throw out. Twice we're almost caught by scary people on the street, but Wesley evades them.
When it starts to get warm again things get a little better. The nights aren't as cold and we don't have to steal as much clothes so we can focus on food. To our extreme luck we stumble upon an old, abandoned theater. The electricity still works and it has lots of room. There is yet to be holes in the walls and the floors. Wesley and I decide to move in before someone else does.
"Things will be better now, right?" I ask. We're laying in the bed we've made from old curtains and usher costumes. Wesley looks at me when I talk.
"Yeah. Everything will be alright. As long as we've got each other everything will be alright," he smiles. I sigh and prepare to go to sleep.
*Two Months Later*
Wesley and I walk down the lines of food at the grocery store. I stash a bag of string cheese in my pocket. Wesley raises his eyebrows.
"Are you just going to eat cheese?" he asks.
"Get some bagels and we can sprinkle it on top," I say. He chuckles and heads over towards the baked goods. I snag some yogurt while he's gone.
Things have gotten better since we found the theater. We get to sleep well and it's comfortable. We can store food in the fridge behind the refreshment stands and if we manage to get popcorn kernels we can pop popcorn. It's nice to say the least.
"Ready to go?" Wesley asks when he returns with the bagels. I nod. Together we slip past the security sensors and onto the street. The sky has already turned dark with clouds and I move closer to Wesley. Ever since Jack's death I've been scared of the dark and of storms. Well I've been scared of being out during storms. "Let's go home," Wesley eyes the sky darkly.
We start towards home at a brisk pace. I feel so much older than I really am as I walk with Wesley. I was abandoned by my mother at four and then taken in by Jack. When I turned seven Jack died and now Wesley and I are on our own. Wesley is nine, Jack would have been sixteen.
Despite his youth Wesley is extremely mature. He's never gone to school, but Jack taught him all about math, literature, social studies, and science. Sometimes he tells me a few things about it. I think it's all very boring, but I listen anyways. I think he likes to teach. It reminds him of Jack.
The rain starts as we're walking. I squeal in surprise and Wesley laughs. We jog the last two blocks to the theater and rush inside. Wesley turns on the popcorn popper and we huddle close to it to get warm. I set the bagels on top and sprinkle the cheese on top so it will melt. Jack pulls out a curtain we've turned into a blanket and drapes it over our shoulders. Then we just sit there, waiting for the bagels.
"What happened to you?" Wesley's voice breaks the silence. I glance at him in confusion.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"What happened to you before we met. I've lived with you for three years, but I have no idea about what happened before then," he explains. I shrug.
"There's not much to tell really. I lived with my mother and father up until I was four. My mother took me to a train station and left me there. I wandered around until ya'll found me." I realize how pathetic that sounds, but I don't know what else to say. I hardly remember anything before joining their group.
"I'm sorry about your mother. She was a real idiot to abandon you," Wesley apologizes. I shrug again.
"What about you? What's your story?" I ask.
Wesley hesitates and I begin to think he won't tell me. Finally he sighs and starts his story. "Jack and I lived with our mom. Our dad died in the army when I was two. I didn't really know him that well, but I remember his voice. He used to sing me lullabies before he went to war. He had a really deep voice and it was really comforting. I never had nightmares as a little kid." He smiles at the memory. His brown eyes are glazed like he can really see himself as a child with his father singing to him.
"After he died mom got really depressed. She wouldn't eat anything or do anything. All she did was sit in the rocker and stare out the window like she was waiting for dad to come home. Jack was only seven when he was forced to become the man of the house. He still went to school every day then came home and went to work for our neighbors. He used the money he earned to buy groceries and clothes and such. Even when he got sick he would still work.
"But no matter how much he tried mom still wouldn't eat. She just sat there getting weaker and weaker. When she got sick Jack didn't know what to do. We didn't have enough money to pay for a doctor so we just tried to comfort her back into health. Of course it didn't work. She died when I was four." I want to say something. Tell him I'm sorry, tell him I wish it hadn't happened. But I stay quiet and let to him continue.
"Jack and I were sent to live with our grandparents after she died. They were nice folks, but they didn't have much money and could hardly care for themselves, much less two boys. Deciding it would benefit everyone better Jack and I left.
"We lived by ourselves for a year. Then we met Issac. He had escaped from a foster home and was running from the police. Jack wouldn't leave him so he came with us. Later Ben joined our group after his dad left him and his mother who was sick with cancer. She eventually died and Ben was left alone. When we found him he was half starved and dehydrated. Of course Jack took him in too.
"For the next few years we scraped by. Issac and Ben were great at being thieves. I could throw a tantrum with Jack and they'd grab the goods. We were a great team. Then we met you. Jack, begin Jack, let you join us," Wesley finishes his story. I nod. There are so many words running through my heads, so many things I want to tell him. For a seven year old I have a very elaborate vocabulary.
In the end I say nothing. Wesley doesn't either. We just sit. After the bagels are done we eat them and go to bed, no words exchanged.
*Three months Later*
Wesley and I are returning from another trip to the grocery store. Now that it's summer it's harder to steal things without being noticed. Less clothes means less hiding spots. Wesley actually had to pay for some of it so we could hide stuff in the bags. He's been doing odd jobs for the past two months and has earned enough money to pay for some food.
"We've got plenty of food now, we won't need to make another trip to the grocery store for a while," Wesley comments. I nod without speaking. I keep looking down every alleyway as we past. I still think of Jack every time I see a man leaning against a wall. It makes me walk a little faster.
We clutch the bags of food a little closer as we pass by a group of teenage boys. They glower at us, but turn back around and continue to talk to each other. The sky above us is bright but it offers little comfort.
As we wait at an intersection the sound of breaking glass echoes down an alleyway next to us. I can hear my breath turn ragged and my heart skip a beat. Wesley narrows his eyes as he looks down the alley. "Let's go," he tugs me across the road. I gladly follow him.
I keep glancing over my shoulder as we continue to walk. Once I think I see a face but it disappears when I blink. We move a little faster.
The theater is just around the bend and I feel a rush of relief that soon we'll be home, we'll be safe. As we're about to turn the corner a voice makes us freeze. "What's in the bags?"
We turn around with wide eyes and sweaty palms, from fear and from the heat. A boy is behind us, probably seventeen of eighteen. He has thick black hair and broken glasses. He's accompanied by two other boys. A ginger and a blonde.
"Nothing," Wesley answers his question.
"Lying doesn't make friends," the ginger smirks.
"I don't want to make friends," Wesley snaps.
"Why not? We could have a lot of fun you know," the black haired boy grins. Wesley glares at them. My thoughts race. It's gonna be Jack all over again!
"Just leave us alone," Wesley says. I grab his hand, trying to give him the strength and courage I lack. The boys laugh at this.
"Looks like you've got a little girlfriend. If you give us the food we won't hurt her," the one with black hair says. His eyes are dark and I can tell he's being serious. I glance at Wesley, willing him to take the offer.
"We need the food," Wesley argues.
"You won't need it if you're dead. And that's what you'll be if you don't hand it over," the blonde holds out his hand. He has a deep voice and it gives my arms goosebumps.
"Yeah right," Wesley rolls his eyes. They look annoyed by his lack of fear and respect. One of them balls their hands into fists and another one reaches in his pocket as if to draw a knife or worse yet, a gun.
"Listen to them Wesley," I say. "Just give them the food and let's go home. It's not worth it." Wesley looks at me.
"But Elley," he starts.
"Listen to your girlfriend Wesley," the boys tease. "She's a smart girl," the black haired one looks at me in a way that makes me feel uncomfortable. Wesley looks like he's about to argue but I silence him with a look.
"Think of Jack," I whisper. He sighs.
"Here," he hands over the food. His voice is laced with disgust. The other boys snatch it and start to walk away.
"Thank you kindly," they smirk. I feel irritation rise in myself. Maybe I should have let Wesley keep the food. I push the thought away, a fight isn't what we need.
We walk back to the theater in silence. Wesley is fuming by the time we return. "Those arrogant idiots. Just because they're older they think they can boss us around," he grumbles. I sit in one of the velvet chairs and watch him pace in front of the movie screen.
"Be the better man Wesley," I say. "A fight would have done us no good." He continues to grumble as if I haven't spoken. I huff in aggravation and walk out of the room.
I walk to the front lobby and then walk into the arcade. None of the games work so it's pretty much useless, but I find myself drawn to it all the same. Sometimes I just come in and imagine what it would be like if the theater was up and running.
There would be kids lining up for the games. Some of them nerds trying to beat the high scores, others just there to hang out, and some would be younger kids just being goofy. Maybe some had come with older siblings. I can imagine them trying to copy their big brother or sister, attempting to empress their friends then failing terribly. A part of me envies those imagined children. A part of me thinks they envy me.
I'm not sure why I think that. Maybe it's because I don't have to go to school, maybe it's because I have a friend like Wesley. Whatever the reason I think they would be envious of me. Of course I could just be vain. Yeah, that's probably it.
Eventually I grow tired of the arcade room. I check in on Wesley, but he's still talking to himself about the boys. I roll my eyes and head into our room. It's the smallest theater room and has the fewest chairs. Our bed is still just a jumble of curtains and usher costumes. I dig through the fabric until I find what I'm looking for.
It's my favorite Christmas present from that very first Christmas. The book of every fairytale Wesley ever told me. I had snuck it with us when we left the old house, not wanting to leave it behind to grow moldy and fall apart. I take it out into the hall so I have light and start to read. The stories send my emotions in spirals. I smile and cheer at the victories, laugh at the jokes, mourn at the deaths, and cry at the loses.
As I read Wesley walks out of the theater he was in and approaches me. He sits next to me and reads over my shoulder. When we finish reading he looks at me and smiles.
"Wanna play something?" he asks. I nod enthusiastically. "Come on," he pulls me up with him.
We start to play a wonderful game. It involves every princess, every prince, every villain, and every fairy from my stories. Wesley plays the princes and I play the princesses. He has to rescue me from all the dangers and return me to my kingdom. There my father offers to repay him with butt loads of gold, but he always refuses.
"Seeing your daughter return home safely is payment enough," he smiles. Then we get married and start to dance.
It takes us forever to finish because we have to go through every story. It's well into the night by the time we're done. Exhausted, but happy we drag ourselves into our bed and fall asleep.
*One Year Later*
A storm howls outside the theater. Wesley and I are crouched inside our room surrounded by candles since the power went out. Thunder cracks overhead and we flinch. Wesley puts his arm around me.
"It's gonna be okay, it's just a little storm," he coaxes me. I give him a look.
"Little storm? It's about as little as that woman at the store today," I snap. He laughs and I do too. Thunder rumbles again and we stop. "How long do you think it will last?" I ask. He shrugs.
"But since we don't have anything else to do I think this is the perfect time for you to work on your multiplication facts," he gives me a crocked smile. I groan and fall backwards.
"No," I whine.
"They're not that bad Elley," he crosses his arms. I pout at him. Wesley raises his eyebrows. I sigh and sit up. "That a girl." He gets up to find a piece of paper and a pencil. "Be studying them while I'm gone," he orders.
"Yeah right," I grumble. When he leaves I curl up in the curtains and hide from the chill of the storm. Rain pounds on the roof and thunder booms while the wind howls. It's like an angry orchestra outside.
A crash sounds from outside the room. "Wesley?" I call. I can hear his voice, but then someone else starts talking. Confused I stand up and creep towards the door. I open it a crack and peek out. The hall is empty, but I can still hear the voices and more crashes. Curious I tip toe out into the hall.
"Wesley?" I whisper. There's no answer. As I get closer to the lobby the voices get louder. I press my back against the wall and sneak a glance.
There are five boys in the lobby, not counting Wesley. Two of them are holding him back while the others go through the fridge and pull out our food. One of them is kicking over the popcorn popper and throwing stuff against the walls.
"Stop it," Wesley shouts. "Why are you doing this?" he demands.
"Don't you remember us Wesley?" one boy steps forward. I recognize him in an instant. It's the black haired boy from the street. "We're teaching you how to be respectful," he growls.
"I'll never respect you," Wesley spits.
"Then we're teaching you to fear us," he glares at Wesley. "Now where's your little girlfriend?" the boy glances around. I gasp and jerk my head back before he can see me.
My heart beats so loud I'm positive they can hear it. My palms are slick with perspiration and I wipe them on my pants. I don't know what to do. Wesley needs my help, but I don't know how to help him. If it comes to a fight I'll be next to useless and I've never been good at talking myself out of something.
"I'll never tell you," Wesley's voice sounds above the rain. There's a dull thud and grunt then a low moan.
"How 'bout now?" I peek inside the room. Wesley is clutching his stomach and has his eyes shut in pain. The blonde boy from before is holding a knife and has the blade pointed at him.
"Never," Wesley says determinedly.
"Too bad," the boy moves down with the knife.
"No," I scream. "Don't hurt him." I step into the room, my eyes locked on Wesley and my arms outstretched towards him. He gives me a pained look and shakes his head.
"No Elley," he tries to warn me, but the blonde hits him over the head and Wesley falls unconscious.
"Hello Elley," the black haired boy grins. I glare at him. "Don't be so cold. I've brought you some old friends." He glances towards the other boys with him. I gape in shock at the two familiar forms.
"Issac? Ben?" my voice is barely above a whisper. They look at me uncomfortably. The blonde and ginger from before laugh and nudge them to the side.
"They're not important. You're what's important," the main boy starts to walk towards me. I step backwards.
"Me? Why?" I ask in confusion.
"You'll know the answer soon enough," he grins. He starts forward again. I turn and run. "Elizabeth," his voice echoes behind me. I run into the nearest theater and head towards the exit. I force the door open and run out into the rain. "Elizabeth," his voice follows me outside.
My bare feet smack down hard on the sidewalk. The rain has me drenched in minutes so I'm chilled to the bone. I don't know if the boy is following me, but I keep running. As I make a turn I loose my balance and fall down hard. My elbow bursts with pain and I can see blood spurt on the sidewalk. I ignore it and start running again.
"Elizabeth." He's still behind me. My heart pounds as loud as the thunder and my vision blurs from both rain and fear. I head down an alleyway, hoping to loose him.
When I reach the end of the alleyway I stop dead in my tracks. It's a dead end. I look around for someplace to hide, but the alley is empty. I press myself against the wall, hoping to stay hidden in the shadows. The boy's silhouette appears at the entrance of the alleyway. He pauses then walks by. I let out a breath of relief then start running towards the exit.
As I step back into the open I feel strong arms wrap around me. "I've got you know," his breath is hot on my neck. I scream and kick, but I can't get away. The boy drags me back to the theater before anyone can stop us. No cars drive by to see him taking me, no pedestrians are out in the rain. There's no one to help me.
When we reach the theater he locks the door. "Now it's time for some fun," he laughs. His laugh is twisted and demented. I'm more scared than I've ever been in my whole life. More than when my mother left me, more than when I thought I was going to drown in the pool, and more than when Jack died. I want to run again, to fight, but I'm frozen.
In the split second as he moves in I realize what's going to happen. Jack had told me about this, warning me to never go anywhere with strangers. Now it's going to happen to me. Oh God I'm only eight and I'm going to be raped. Oh God please help me.
No help comes. Nobody rescues me. Nobody even cares.
*One Week Later*
"Elley?" Wesley's voice is hoarse and I hardly recognize it.
"Wesley?" I sit up from where I'm huddled in the shadows of my room or as I prefer to call it, my prison. He crawls over to me, hiding behind the chairs so Issac wouldn't see him.
Since that night Wesley was forced to join their band of thieves and I had become something of a play thing for them. I tried not to think about it though. Instead I spend my free time remembering the fairytales I used to love.
"Are you okay?" he asks. His face is bruised and there's dried blood staining his clothes. Looking at him makes my heart ache.
"No," I say. "And neither are you." He looks down at himself.
"This is nothing. You should see the other guy," he shrugs. I try to laugh or at least smile, but I can't. Wesley glances at Issac then pulls me into a hug. I burry my face in his neck and breathe in his scent. It's been so long since I've hugged him I never want to let him go.
Eventually we have to break away to make sure Issac doesn't see him. Luckily Issac is falling asleep in one of the chairs. I still can't believe it's him. After all this time he finally comes back with our enemies. It's crazy to think about so I don't.
"Do you think you're okay to run?" Wesley asks. I nod.
"Why?" I raise my eyebrows in question.
"I'm freeing you," Wesley says. He hugs me again. "You have to survive Elley. You've gotta survive for me okay?" he pulls back and looks in my eyes. "Can you promise me you'll survive?"
"Yes," I nod. The hope of freedom is making my heart flutter and my spirits soar. Wesley has always been able to make me feel better.
"I'll distract Issac and you get out the exit. Don't look back and don't stop running. Okay?" he checks. I nod yet again.
"How will you get away?" I ask. He bites his lip.
"Don't worry about me. I'll find you somehow. I promised I'd never leave you remember? I never go back on a promise." His eyes are dark and betray that he's not saying something. I want to ask him but he stands up before I get the chance.
"Hey Issac," Wesley walks over to him. Issac jumps to attention.
"What are you doing here Wesley?" he asks. Without giving him an answer Wesley jumps on him. They start to fight on the floor and I run towards the exit. I hesitate before leaving and glance back at Wesley.
"Go Elizabeth, go," he shouts. I turn and run. I run into the sunshine I haven't seen in days. I run from my nightmares and from my fears. And I run from the only person I've ever truly cared about. Not knowing I'd never see him again…
A/N:
Yep. Poor Elizabeth. She's had a rough life. Poor, poor girl. Next chapter is Peter's reaction to all this. It's very…interesting. Thanks for all the reviews! Keep it up please! Love you guys!