1A/N: Here is chapter 3. This is the third time I'm typing this because my computer is stupid, and loses everything. For anyone who is getting sick of Shaggy being referred to as 'Norville', it won't last too long. He'll be called Shaggy later on in the fanfiction. I would also like to thank everyone who has reviewed this story, or who has added this story to his or her favorites. I never thought it would be this good! So, thank you all very much!
Disclaimer: I don't own Burger King, or Old Navy.
Norville's shoulders were growing sore under the strap of his messenger bag. He didn't want to be left out in the world with only the clothes on his back. A three-quarter sleeved blue shirt from Old Navy, and some baggy blue jeans. Norville only brought what he felt was necessary. He wished he could bring everything. He knew very little of the outside world. Sure he was smart, but only book-smart. Not street smart. Most of his entire life was either spent at school, or in his home. He had no social life at all. Remembering back, his mother would have him avoid interaction with any other children. In elementary school, she had him turn down all invitations he got for birthday parties, or even play dates. By the time he had started middle school, everyone had given up on him, and met new people. He was a loner.
He was furious with it all. Had always put everything he could into whatever he did, and never got the recognition from his mother that he deserved and desired. Just to hear his mother say something even partly close to approval would give him sheer happiness. Never once did she do so.
With the fifteen dollars he found in his pants pocket, he went to a nearby Burger King, just as it grew dark. Inside it was bright and stuffy. Norville looked around. Six men all in business suits sat in the center of the room, chatting amongst themselves. An elderly woman was seated at the far side, and was snoring lightly in an unintended slumber. Norville looked around like an animal out of it's cage as he got on the line to order. He felt strangely uncomfortable around these people, and only wanted to get out as soon as he got his food. A tap on his shoulder brought him to yelp, and he turned around sharply. His gaze met a pair of two crystal blue eyes, which looked Justas startled as he was. They belonged to a boy, around the same age as Norville. His bright blonde hair struck a memory in him, but he couldn't remember it clearly.
"Hey." The boy said, and stuck a thumb out to the front counter. "You're up."
Norville apologized feeling embarrassed, and ordered his food. Once he got it, he left as hastily. All he wanted to do was get out of there. To just get away.
Norville was blown away from the taste of the food. It brought his dulled taste buds to life, and he almost wished that the moment would never end. He had never tasted something so delectable in all his life. It tasted way better than a veggie burger. Once he had devoured the hamburger he drank it down with a coke. That took care of dinner for that night. Norville was sure it would last him well into the morning. It was the first time, in a long time, that he actually felt full. He sat on the curb of the sidewalk, just outside a post office, thinking. There was only one more glitch that brought him back into frustration. He had nowhere to sleep for the night. He knew he couldn't go back to his house. Wouldn't do him any good. He needed a safe place, and sleeping on a curb in Coolsville late during the night was not his plan. Thinking heavily, he spent the current hour debating on certain places to stay. He had yet to come up with one. During that rime, he had heard several noises in the darkness. Sudden ones, which he knew where not natural ones of the night from animals or insects. However, he didn't want to jump to conclusions and begin assuming what he wasn't entirely sure of. Yet there were always possibilities, if not any. Norville sighed, and picked up his messenger bag. He didn't know where to stay, but had decided on walking somewhere. Anywhere than where he was then. Just as he began doing so, he heard a noise. It sounded close by, like a shoe scrapping against the pavement. Before Norville got the time to comprehend it, he was knocked over to the ground. By what, he was unsure of. It had happened so quickly, as though it happened in a second. As scared as he was, he scrambled to his feet, but did not get far. He was pummeled back down, and his head met the cement. There was something holding him down. Hands, perhaps. He had wished for light, anything to illuminate where he was. Struggling was harder in the dark. Nonetheless he did all he could to free himself, going as far as biting, and kicking, which only brought him more hurting. He could feel several hands on him. Punching him, hitting him, grabbing his hair even. The mysterious beings did all they could to keep him down. Through it all, Norville managed to hit someone. He felt his hand rap into stubble flesh, someone's face, and a loud grunt followed. A second later after he had done so he felt a searing pain on his calf. He screeched in absolute pain, and felt liquid trickle down his leg.
Then he snapped.
He couldn't take note of what he was doing, but he was doing it. He punched, and kicked, and screamed, and hit, and tore. Anything that could get hold of he tried destroying with his hands. The adrenaline that flowed through him, and the anger he felt in those moments were so overwhelming, that he thought he was going insane for a second. All the anger he had ever felt was channeled in his punches. Each blow, each kick, even each scream. Of course he was beat back, but he did his best to fight through it.
Soon the group of people dispersed with his bag, and Norville was left swinging at nothing. He stopped once he felt it was safe, and took a moment to gain his composure, any threads of civil behavior that he had left. He had plenty. He pushed back strands of his long hair fro his face, and took a breath. Then he realized something. As startling or scary that situation was, he couldn't help but feel slightly triumphant. He may not have defeated them, but he fought which helped him relieve some of his anger. It was therapeutic in a way, and he liked the feeling.
Norville made his way to the town graveyard, limping in pain, and using the streetlights as his guide. He had dubbed the graveyard as a considerably safe place, hopefully free of anyone else who would attack him from the darkness. He found a bench in the darkness, and laid on it. He felt absolutely exhausted, and heeded to take a break off his leg. It wasn't the most comfortable thing, but it was better than nothing. The night air was cool on his skin, and he wanted a blanket. He had packed one, but sighed, knowing it was taken form him. He knew he had been mugged, but didn't have the energy, or nerve to care. He felt numb, and sleep seemed to be the only thing on his mind.
Nothing stirred in the graveyard. Everything was calm and quiet, even when a curious dog entered. The being soundlessly trotted over headstones, and around graves, following his nose. He smelled something, the strong scent of blood. It led him to a bench, and the smell of a human rang the dog's scenes. A body draped on a bench breathing faintly was before him. As curious as the dog was, it leaned in closer, and began softly sniffing.
And there you have it. Chapter 3.
I tried to make it somewhat eventful, and interesting.
I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to those who read this!