ARC THREE: SOUL

The Twelfth Chapter

Life

"Huo, I'm going to the market," Mom says gently. "I'll be back in an hour."

"No, Mom," I say. "I'll do it." I stand and she surrenders the little pocketbook to me. It's so good to run errands for you again.

"Get mushrooms," she instructs me.

"Okay."

In a flash I am out of the house and walking down the street. It is so good to feel peaceful again…to feel safe. Who knew coming to my Mom's run-down neighborhood would save my life?

Shadows cast by silver moonlight stretch across the stony sidewalk. It's chilly, but I silently bless the night and the cover it brings. From the shadows, no one can tell who I am.

I'll see you soon, Katara.

I weight the pocketbook in my hand. So light. It's not fair, I think. That dad has so much money and Mom is living in poverty.

I knew she'd left him, not vice versa.

But she still deserved enough to keep her going.

Mom works all day and gets no sleep at night.

"Oh, Mom. Why did you leave?"

"It's okay. It won't hurt you." The nondescript pill is waved in front of me in the palm of a hand.

"Are you sure?" This isn't what I'd wanted. I had meant to get an education at this new school, get a new start…not fall into this game.

"It'll make you feel better."

Tentatively, I take it. What harm can it do? Everything this boy gave had made me happy. Made me forget.

I find myself standing in front of the little grocery store. I pull my hood low, over my eyes and hastily go in. I find a package of mushrooms and bring it to the register, all the time being watched with a wary eye by the cashier – reasonably. It's ten at night and I probably look like I'm going to rob the place. I give the man a few dollars from my own pocket and he mutters a "have a good day".

A little late for that, I think grimly, but simply nod.

In, out. In, out. Funny, breathing has a pattern. In, out, in, in, in…

"Zuko!" Ow. In, in, in. Out. In, out.

"What the hell are you doing?" My sister glares at me from the doorway, and I laugh. It doesn't matter that she knows, because nothing's ever going to hurt me more than I've already been hurt.

She takes the container from me, yanks it from my hands. I wonder why she doesn't just let me have it, let me die. 14 years old and my sister is fighting on the streets, watching her older brother serve to her every whim and fall to drugs.

But when I'm high I'm happy.

Maybe she doesn't want to be happy.

"You."

I turn, my blood running cold.

"You…you bastard," snarls Boomerang, a blade held tightly in one hand. "You raped my sister!" He leaps at me, and as I hold my arms up in defense, slashes several long and dark lines up my writs.

"Holy shit," I spit in pain, quickly drawing the pistol from my sweatshirt pocket I curse again as the blood spills and stains my jeans. "I didn't rape her!"

"Fucking liar," he hisses, cold eyes drilling holes in my head. "I know you did."

"I love her!" I yell. He just growls and attacks me again.

And I pull the trigger, knowing already that I'm going to regret this for the rest of my life.