A/N- Hi, I don't actually know how to do an author's note so hopefully this is right. But I just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who has been following along with this story. The kind comments and reviews make my day. I hope you enjoy the new chapter! (:
(Pony)
Six months ago
Today is my thirteenth birthday. I doubt anyone knows or cares, but I think thirteen is kind of a big deal. It means I'm finally a teenager, not just a little kid anymore. And it means I'm one year closer to getting the hell out of the foster system.
I walked around town, no real destination in mind, I just wanted to get out of the house. And more importantly, away from them .
Mrs. Moore, my social worker, has dragged me all over Oklahoma since she became my social worker a few years ago. She says I'm hard to place because I'm "difficult". I don't know what I do that makes me so difficult but apparently no one wants to keep me for too long. Which is fine by me because most of the foster homes she's placed me in have been pretty shitty.
The newest one has been the worst by far. She put me with her drunk of a brother in law, who definitely doesn't want me around unless it's to smack me around. I've only been here a few days and I already know it's best to keep as far away as possible from Mr. Moore.
Since they're family and they only live a few streets over, Mrs. Moore and her husband are over at the house a lot of the time. She's been there when Mr. Moore took a swing at me, knocking me hard in the back of the head for being "ungrateful". When I looked over at her, hoping she would help me, or at least move me to a different home, she just met my eyes with her own snakelike eyes, leveling me with a cold stare.
Her husband is worse. He looks at me like I'm worse than the dirt under his feet. He's a cop. He's supposed to help people but the only people I've seen him help are the ones who are hurting me.
So knowing that nothing good awaits me back there, I decide to bum around town as a birthday treat for myself. To just be anywhere but there.
I eventually wander into a corner store where a kid a few years older than me is working the register, looking bored as he flips through a magazine. I don't have any money and I really don't like stealing unless I really have to but I like to look around and see all the stuff in the store.
"Hey kid" he drawls, "Need help finding anything?"
"No thank you, just looking"
"Well ain't you a polite little one" he scoffs, his eyes following me as I wander around the store, no doubt trying to make sure I don't steal anything.
Eventually I've looked at all there is to look at. The snacks section makes my empty stomach growl and I don't want to make myself hungrier by continuing to stare at the tempting food. I start to head out the door when the voice of the kid working the cash register stops me.
"You ain't gonna buy anything?"
I shrug. "I don't have any money".
He gives me a long look, and then sighs.
"You want a pop? On the house?"
"Really?" I brighten up. I'm somewhat of a pepsi fiend and I havent had one in a long time.
"Really. It's a slow day. No one will miss it" he says with a smile.
I grab a pepsi from the fridge and pop the cap, taking a long sip as the cool, bubbly liquid slides down my throat. The sugar seems to immediately go to my bloodstream and boost my energy.
"Thanks a lot" I tell the kid, who's slid across the counter and is leaning against it, watching me savor my pepsi. He's tall and skinny and has a mass of dark, curly hair.
"No problem, kid. You from around here? I haven't seen you around before"
I stiffen up a bit at the question, I hate being asked where I'm from. I'm not really from anywhere but most people don't want to hear that as an answer.
"Just moved here actually. Few days ago"
The kid nods and then smiles with crooked teeth, "Well I'm Wally. Nice to meet you kid". He holds out a hand that I take and shake, returning his smile.
I don't give him my name. Nobody ever believes me when I tell them and I hate having to pretend my name is Michael, which is the only name the Moore's call me.
Aside from being a pepsi fiend, I've also recently started smoking. It's probably good I don't have any money because I worry it would all go to cigarettes. But I noticed Wally has a cigarette tucked behind each of his ears. I haven't had a smoke in a long time and since it's my birthday I decide to perk up the courage to ask Wally for one.
"Think I can bum one of those cigarettes off of you?" I ask.
He looks at me curiously, "You're pretty young to be smoking, ain't ya?"
I pull myself up as tall as I can and try to look tuff, "I'm thirteen, that ain't too young to smoke".
Wally scoffs again, "You don't look thirteen".
"Well" I shift my weight between my feet, "It's a new thirteen"
"How new?"
"Uh, today" I say, trying to sound older despite starting to feel nervous.
Wally barks out a laugh and hands me one of the cigarettes from behind his ears. "Well then I guess I gotta give you one"
"Thanks Wally" I tell him sincerely.
I start to light up but the overhead bell dings, signaling a customer has entered the store. Wally straightens up and goes back behind the counter.
"Hello, sir. Anything I can help you with today?"
"No, just here to collect the boy" a gruff voice says.
The voice sends shivers down my spine and I turn around quickly and see Mr. Moore standing by the entrance. His big frame seems to take up the whole door, blocking out all the sunlight.
"Let's go, Michael" Mr. Moore says as his gaze coolly takes in the store. It settles on me before he's turning and going outside to wait for me. The bell dings again as he leaves. Such a merry sound in contrast to the panic I'm feeling.
"I gotta go. Thanks again, Wally" I mumble and start to follow Mr. Moore out, scared to make him wait.
"Wait kid" Wally says, hurrying around the counter and pressing something into my hands. I look down and see a whole pack of cigarettes, I look up at him, confused.
"Happy Birthday, kid" Wally says with a smile.
I return the smile and hurry out the door, shoving the cigarettes deep in my pocket as I go.
Pony….six days ago
I've somehow managed to ration the pack of cigarettes Wally gave me on my birthday six months ago. I've been able to bum some off of people at school when I want to smoke, which is most of the time since it helps with my nerves, which are pretty much shot from living with Mr. Moore. Something about a smoke seems to help my hands stop shaking and my heart stop thumping like a rabbit in my chest.
I go and visit Wally sometimes after school. He usually gives me a pepsi and cigarette, letting me sit out front and slowly finish my smoke.
Unfortunately, Mr. Moore doesn't let me smoke at the house. The first time he caught me smoking on the porch he smacked me so hard my lip split and I fell down the porch stairs, bruising pretty much everything in my tumble.
"None of that shit in my house" he'd said from the top of the stairs, looking down at me and taking a long drag off of the cigarette that I had dropped.
I'd seen Mr. Moore smoke plenty of times, so I didn't know why I couldn't but it was just one more thing he did to control me and make my life hell.
That's why I kinda liked sneaking the smokes Wally had given me. It gave me a weird sense of pride, that Mr. Moore hadn't totally broken me, he couldn't have me under his thumb all of the time.
I had to be real careful about it, only doing it when him and his brother weren't home to catch me. The fear of the consequences of being caught kept me from blowing through the pack, so I only did it when I really needed it.
I needed it today. Mr. Moore had come home in a rage. He stormed through the house, yelling and breaking things like an angry bull. I'd been holed up in my room, reading, when he burst in. His red face looked belligerent, the vein popping out of his forehead.
"Boy" he growled and dragged me off of the bed. The beating was rough but honestly I'd had worse. He'd left me there on the floor and drove off, a trail of curse words echoing through the house after him.
So now here I was in the basement, standing on one of the chairs so I could blow my smoke out the window. Most of the windows upstairs are locked, the one in my room is actually nailed shut. But the window in the basement is always open so this is where I sneak down to smoke.
My cigarette is almost finished, it's done its job of calming me down a bit but I still feel uneasy. Mr. Moore is an asshole, but he'd never come at me out of nowhere like that before and that scares me.
The front door slams above me, making me jump. Panic returns full force and I freeze, like a deer in the headlights.
'He can't catch me down here. He'll kill me' I think desperately to myself.
To my utter dismay I hear several pairs of heavy footfalls and the voices of angry men. I recognize Mr. Miller and his brother's sharp tones, getting louder. They're coming to the basement!
My limbs decide to start working again and I toss my cigarette out the window and shut it as gently and quickly as I can. I hop off of the stool and spin around, eyes frantically looking around the room for a place to hide. There's a coat closet across from me and I dive toward it, pulling the door quietly shut just as the men enter the basement.
I pull my knees up to my chest and slap a hand over my mouth to try and cover the noise of my breathing. I cannot let them catch me.
"God dammit" roars Mr. Miller, a loud crash follows, it sounds like he threw something against the wall, "You really fucked this up"
"Calm down Jimmy, maybe our friend here didn't fuck up as badly as we think" drawls Officer Moore, "Frank, tell us what happened."
I peer through the slats of the closet door, I can't see much, just the blurry shadows of the three men. One is angrily pacing while the other two are standing around the table.
"Look, it was the kid's fault. He's the one who wanted to sell past 1st street. I tried to tell him that wasn't our territory but he didn't listen to me!" says the third voice.
"Well Frank, thanks to you and the dumbass kid's move, he's been arrested and we have people sniffing around our operation" Mr. Moore yells.
"I know the kid got arrested" Frank snaps, "I saw it all go down, didn't I? I was the one who told you about it!"
"I would've found out anyway Frank. Or are you forgetting my connections?"
Franks huffs out a dry laugh, "How could I forget your "connections". It's because of your connections I'm in this mess"
"Now now Frank" Officer Moore says, his voice falsely cheery, "You didn't have to take my deal. You could have just taken your prison sentence, but no, I got your case erased and now you work for me. That was the deal, wasn't it"
A stretch of silence follows, the only sound is the heavy breathing and pacing of Mr. Moore.
"And I think part of that deal was to only sell where I tell you to. Where you can be under my jurisdiction. Isn't that right, Frank?" Officer Moore asks.
"I told you, it was the kid who wanted to move spots, he said he knew there'd be clients over the-"
"And look how that ended up! Mr. Moore roared, "You were in charge of this deal, Frank, not that good for nothing kid!"
My whole body is tensed, frozen. My hand still clapped over my mouth and I'm praying that they can't hear the pounding of my heart through the closet door.
"You let some nobody kid push you around, he got caught, he could squeal, we'd all be in trouble. This is quite a mess now, Frank" Officer Moore says calmly, almost like he's talking about the weather.
The shadows shift, two of them slowly converging on the third that is backing away.
"Look, I know I fucked up but I'll make it up to you" Frank says, an edge of panic creeping into his voice.
"How?" Mr. Moore growls.
"I'll…I'll figure something out" Frank stutters, fear evident in his voice now.
"No Frank, I think you've done enough" Officer Moore says.
A loud slam echoes through the room as one of the shadows shoves another against the wall.
"No! Please don't!" Frank cries.
"You fucked up again, Frank. After I tried to help you, but I guess you just can't be helped" Officer Moore says softly.
The third shadow lunges at the shadow pinned against the wall. A strangled cry pierced the room and seems to go into my soul. I move my hands to my ears and bury my face against my knees to try and block the garbled screams coming into the closet.
The screams turn into horrible, wet, choking noises until those too stop. Tears are running down my face but I still remain absolutely silent and still, paralyzed by fear.
"Help me get his body out to the car. We gotta get this mess cleaned up" Officer Moore says.
"Let me go lock the kid in his room first, don't want him snooping around down here" Mr. Moore says and his heavy steps leave the basement.
'Please, please dont let him check my room before he locks it' I silently pray to whatever God will listen to me.
Apparently my prayer is answered because he comes back a minute later without a comment.
There's grunting and the wet thud of something being rolled and flopped. I press my hands tight over my ears again to try and block out the sound and clamp my eyes tightly shut. They must figure out how to get the body out of the basement somehow because soon I hear two sets of footsteps above me as well as the sound of something heavy being dragged. The front door squeaks open and then is slammed loudly shut a few minutes later. I hear a car engine roar to life and drive off. And then there's nothing. Silence.
I'm scared to move, what if one of them is still here, so I sit in the closet for a bit longer but I don't hear anything.
Slowly, I stand up and put a shaking hand on the doorknob. I open it slowly, glad that it doesn't make a noise on its hinges.
A large blood stain stands out starkly against the light carpet. The coppery, metallic smell hits my nose and I clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from puking. I turn and run as quietly as I can to the upstairs bathroom where I heave, my meager lunch coming back up.
Shaking, I splash my face with water, trying unsuccessfully to calm my nerves.
'I need to get out of here' I think desperately. But I don't know where to go or who to go to for help. But anything has to be better than this.
The sound of the truck coming back down the street makes me jump. There's no way I could make it past both of them to get away. I'll have to make my get away another time. I run to my bedroom, and take the key off of the top of the door to unlock it and slip in the room. I reach my hand out and lock the door again and stretch up to return the key to its spot and pull the door shut, locking myself in.
I back away from the door until my back hits the wall. I slowly slide down it and bury my head in my hands, the tears returning, burning hot as they fall down my face.
I've never been more alone.