Melancholic Quest

You moved to this city about two months ago with your mother. You don't really have a good relationship with her, and this move made that even rockier. Shortly after arriving you fell oddly ill and have been kept to the apartment, not setting a foot out for nearly the entire time you have been there. Most of your days are spent sleeping, and the times you are awake it is groggy and muddling, and you notice your mouth is always dry. Food and water is usually left for you, and your schedule follows; eat, use the restroom, look out the window, and sleep. You can barely stay awake from more then an hour when you do wake up. Sightings of your mother have become much rarer as time passes, but you are so out of it you barely notice. However, this evening, you wake up and things are different. You do your routine and notice that you are wide awake for once. You finish your food, and your dry mouth is rather annoying. You could get water from the bathroom sink but you have a craving for juice. You get up to leave but you notice that your door is locked, and a strange and dull pain is coming from your side.
Delilah, you find yourself locked in your bedroom and in slight pain, what do you do? Your only access is the bathroom that is conjoined to your room at the moment.

You know better then to mess with the door too much and make noise. Mommy isn't usually nice, and this goes double for those nights when she opens the liquor cabinet. That pain radiating from your side is also very strange...

You go in front of your mirror and lift up your nightgown. In the dark it takes a moment, but you then notice that there are two small bumps on your stomach. They are scabbing over and the area around them is red like a mosquito bite. You scratch it lightly but stop as pain quickly surges through you. Suddenly, your hear a loud rattling noise at your door, and the knob begins to shake. A man seems to be talking to your mother from behind it.

What do you do? Get back in bed and pretend to sleep? Hide? What is your plan?

Acting quick, you arrange your pillows and sheets to make it look like you are in bed, then quickly roll underneath. You cover yourself up with a throw blanket, clutching your dear rabbit as your heart is pounding hard in your little chest. As you hear the door creak open you hear the man say the following words:
Delilah [...] payment [...] enjoy again [...]
Your heart is racing and you miss many of the parts in between and you hear his foot steps come towards the bed and the door shut. The lights are still off, but in front of you there is the sight of a vase full of fake flowers and your other toys. You hear the man pull off the sheets and he is know very angry. Suddenly, you feel him yank you out from underneath the bed, and you can smell alcohol on his breath.

You do NOT want to be hurt and you don't know what he wants. All you know is that you don't want his hands on you, what do you do?

You fight. You struggle. His arm wraps around you and you bite him as hard as you can. This earns you a hard slap across the face as he curses you and pushes you onto the bed. Your beloved rabbit lays on the ground, his sad bead eyes looking back at you.
...
This man hurt you bad. There are bruises up and down your arms. Your insides are in pain. A feeling of shame rises up in you as you lay on the bed, tears no longer flowing from your eyes. You cried all you could before. Sweat and another strange smell mixes and fills the room. That bastard is sitting on the edge of the bed, talking on the phone.
No, he is BRAGGING on the phone. You are so upset and hurt, emotionally and physically. Your eyes fall onto the vase near by, and instinct comes over you. Slowly you lift yourself off the bed, walking to the vase and holding it in your hands. Your ever so small and delicate hands. You approach the bed, gently nudging your sweet bunny under the bed. You don't want her to see any more awful things. You raise up the vase over your head...
....
A few minutes later and that man is on the floor, out cold. Blood now covers your hands and nightgown. You are trying to catch your breath, when you notice his wallet is on the floor.

Delilah, you are filled with a strong sense of something, fear? Anger? Something is trying to guide you in this situation, what do you do?

You pick up the wallet and flip it open. Inside are a couple of 20$ bills. You pull them out, counting about $120. You toss the wallet to the ground and quickly begin to move. You switch to a thick dress with leggings and boots and pack some more clothes into a duffle bag. You aren't exactly sure about what just happened, but you know that you won't be a victim like this again. As you go to get your winter coat, you see your bunny, Ms. Buttons, on the ground. You pick her up and hug her as tight as you can. Despite what that man did to you, there is still a sense of guilt about what you did to him, those paper bills weighing heavier then they should in your pocket. But you know that no matter what you become, Ms. Buttons will always love you as she did before. Carefully, you place her on the top of your belongings before zipping it all away. As you place your winter coat on, the feeling inside you changes. You look at the man's body, alive but passed out, and realize that your chest is tightening and your breath is quickening. A hunger, one that you never felt before in your life, quickly materializes.
...
A few minutes later, you sit up from the man's body. Blood runs down the corner of your mouth. It taste sour and awful, but your hunger is gone. The man seems to still be alive, but you can barely care enough to ensure he is fine. You carefully make your way out of the bedroom and to the front door. Your mother gives you a scare, but you soon realize that she won't give you any trouble. She is laid out on the couch, empty bottles surrounding her and her eyes in a place far away. You give her one last sad look, before leaving the apartment.

You are out on the street, it's dark, you have only the money you found, some clothes, and Ms. Buttons with you. There is a bus station down a few blocks, but otherwise you are only surrounded by credentials for quite a ways. What do you do?

A tight grip on your bag, you make your way to the bus station. You make sure to stay out of the street lights, knowing that if someone spot you at this hour that they would try to return you to your mother. Never will you allow that to happen. She had something to do with your pain earlier, she let that happen and you know it. Sorrow starts to well up inside you but quickly your replace it with a sense of determination. In the shadows of the night, you walk to the bus station. It is early enough in the night,relatively anyways.Slowly the sight of the station grows in your view, and you find shelter inside. You go up to the ticket booth, and are given the option for a few destinations.

Will you choose to go downtown, where the city is always alive? Or do you decide to try and go to your grandmothers? You know she lives on the otherside of town, but are not sure of her exact location. You are also not sure if she would actually help you, but this is the only family you know of.

"One ticket to my grandm-...I mean, to the stop on Jefferson's. Please." You try to keep your voice strong, but a nervousness make it waver slightly. You hand over the money, $4.50, and receive a ticket. Hurrying, you make your way to the appropriate exit. A vending machine catches your eyes and you wander over to it. Cheap junk food looks back at you, but one in particular stands out. Quickly you push in the money, $2.50, and press the combination.
...
A minute later you are sitting at a bench, waiting for the bus to arrive. In your lap, a package of three cookies rest. You take one, bite into it, and realize how cheap they really are. Stale, tough, raisins and not chocolate chips like you had hoped.
These are the most delicious cookies to you in that moment
You shove down the rest and begin on the second one. As you chew, you remember what happened in your bedroom. You quickly push away the...'assault'...and go back to what happened afterwards. Specifically, the blood. The feeling you had was more like a craving, like it was something your body needed. You had felt satisfied after it but not full like when eating dinner. It's all so strange and frightening,,,
You quickly finish the cookie to push those thoughts out. As you start on your third the bus arrives. You hastily shove it in your mouth and board the huge vehicle. You hand over your ticket and find a place to sit. Very few other people are on the bust. It will take about two hours to reach the street. You take your seat, and exhaustion sets in. You lean your head against the window and close your eyes.

Your dreams are empty, and you awaken a bit later. You keep your face against the cool glass, your eyes half open as you watch the
passing streets and cars. There is so much confusion inside of you, yet not enough energy to process any of it. As you sit there in the seat,
you feel so small, as if everything around you is growing huge just to eat you up. Briefly you wish it would, that the bus would turn into
a beast and swallow you whole. These thoughts are quickly shelved however.
You may be small and there is not much you know about the world, but you refuse to allow this notion to overshadow what hope you still have.
It feels like, if you reach your arms far enough, your fingertips can brush up against happiness. You are determined to grasp it.
The bus comes to your destination all too soon, and with a small struggle you pull yourself and your bag from the tall steps into the
streets. Sounds of the bus slowly drift away as once again, you are alone. A streetlamp illuminates where you stand, and you think about what you should do. Your grandmother is somewhere in this area, but even if you found her now it would be in your best interest to wait till it is day time rather then wake her up.
Slowly, you walk down the lonely streets. Despite your little nap, your eyes flutter with sleepiness. An alley passes by, and you stop to look down it. There is a dumpster and some trash on the ground, but otherwise it seems empty and isolated.
Dear Delilah, do you want to try and sleep in the alley till morning? Continue walking? What do you choose to do?

You are hestitant, but ultamitely your feet are guided by your need for rest. Into the alley you go, scoping it out. Little light reaches in, but you can tell for certain that it is empty.
Opening the lid, you remove a black bag of trash from within before settling yourself on the side of the dumpster that hides you from the street. The bag of trash is positioned next to you
to further help hide you away from any one passing by. It stinks, there is a chill that bites you skin, and fear dwells inside you. To comfort yourself, you make a promise.
I will be safe and happy by tomorrow night, and I will sleep in a real bed and have real dinner after taking a long hot bath.
These thoughts warm you up, and you hold your bag on your lap closely. Ms. Buttons is inside still, but you fear taking her out will cause the smell to rub off on her. For now, you can feel
her love through the cloth and that's enough for you. Slowly, your gray eyes close and your head dips down. As soon as you wake up, it's off to find your grandmother.
...
In your dreams, you are a small rabbit running along a concrete ground. The sound of heavy breathing and running follows behind, and your little legs travel as quickly as they can.
You are stopped in your tracks as a trap bites down your back leg, preventing you from moving. The predator approaches, and your young eyes widen at the sight of crooked yellow teeth.
They are ready to bite down on you, and there is only the feeling of fear inside before nothingness.
...
Sunlight beats down on your face, and you squint and try to shield your eyes from it. A headache grows in the back of your head as you try to adjust to the new light. You feel hot,
almost unbearable so. As you get up though you notice that you can see your breath in the air, and the slight frost on the metal dumpster. The sun may be out, but it is still a
winter day, why are you feeling this intense heat? You remember your goal though and quickly dismiss any other thought. You wait for any people around to pass by before leaving
the alley, trying to look as calm and collected as you can.
While you walk, you begin to recognize the streets and figure that you can find your grandmother's place within half an hour.
Do you decide to go straight to grandmother's or is there anything you feel you should do before then?

You feel as if you should clean yourself up, but you are just so close to being off the street, you can nearly see it. Quickly, your strides take you down the streets, passing by people as you keep your chin up.
It takes a little bit of navigating and back tracking, but you see her house soon enough. A large place with an iron gate up front, it is something magnificent. It has been a long time since you have been here, back
when your father was alive...nearly four years ago. As you come closer, the pounding in your chest grows and your hands begin to shake. Sweat drips down your face and the headache you have persists through. In front of the
gate you stop, gathering your thoughts and courage. With deliberate movement you swing open the gate and get to the front door. As you raise your hand to knock, you see how badly your hands really are shaken. You knock, flinching
a bit at how loud it sounds. For a few moments you wait, nearly jumping as the door swings open.
There she stands, your grandmother. She is thin and stern looking, dressed in clothes that reflect her wealth. As soon as she looks down at you, her drawn-on eyebrows furrow down in a sign of disgust.
"Oh, it's you. Did your mother send you?" The mention of your mother sounds like the word itself might be poison from the way she forces it out from her mouth. Your hands tighten on the strap as you speak up.
"H-hello...grandmother. I was hoping...I mean wondering...well..." You stammer and your voice barely comes above a whisper. Your grandmother's eyes reflect annoyance and you quickly resolve to get the right words out.
"I mean, I came to ask if I could live here...with you...for a while..." As the last of your sentence tumbles out you feel foolish for it. A shift in your grandmother's hands catches your eyes, but her voice throws you back.
"What? Is this another ploy by that gold digging whore of a mother? Everything about her is always money money money! Even when she was married to my sweet boy, that's all that came out of her mouth! I TOLD him not to marry
her but..." Her eyes narrow in a slit as she directs the anger at you. " Of course she had to be knocked up already. And even after she drove my poor boy into the grave, she still has the GALL to ask ME for money? She moved
to this city just so she could use you to try and wring some more out of me but I know better, oh do I know better. If it wasn't for you, my boy might still be alive, married to a nice wholesome girl!" She sniffs the air
and makes a big motion to cover her nose, sneering down at you. "Did she roll you in trash? With the way she lives though I bet that's how you always smell. Leave, just leave. After my son died I wanted no part of her, and that includes you. If you don't leave, I will call the police."
And with that, the door is slammed in your face. Without a word you back away, your head bowed low in shame and embarrassment. You walk away from the house, your steps slow and dragging. A park is in the distance, children with their
families are playing. You don't enter it, you know you will be given even more dirty looks. You find an area across from it, a line of trees forming a nice shade for the walk way. You go over, sit yourself behind one of the trees and
away from the public eye, and curl your legs up to your chest. Tears are coming, but you aren't sobbing. This is a quiet, frustrated crying. You feel so lost now, your head hurts badly, you're hungry and smell awful, you're hot even though
it is chilly outside, you just want a hug. You take out Ms. Buttons and clutch her tightly, your tears leaving dark spots against her cloth. Everything is wrong, but you aren't completely alone.
You still have most of the money you stole, but otherwise there is no where left for you to go. What do you do?

A few minutes pass and your tears stop. You kiss Ms Buttons on the head before tucking her away safely in your bag before picking yourself up. It will be okay, you dealt with your grandmother's scorn before. This changes nothing,
you will still be alright soon enough. You begin walking, but this time without a set goal in mind. While you believe that there is a lot of money in your pocket, you are smart enough to know that this won't last you forever. As you
begin to ponder about your financial situation, a police officer is walking the opposite way on the other side of the street. People in uniform are always supposed to help, and this goes double for cops right? You cross the street and
catch up behind him, reaching out and tugging his sleeve to get his attention. You had no fear originally, but as he turns around it fully hits you that this is a man and the pain from your side begins to radiate again.
You are okay though, this man is not going to hurt you. Not every man you come across wants to hurt you, and while you are seized up for a moment you get over your initial shock.
"Ah, hello mister. I was wondering if you could give me a little help?" Your voice is much stronger then when you spoke to your grandmother earlier. It is nice to remember that you aren't always a scardey cat. You may be small and your
voice may be soft, but you are not a crybaby.
"I'm sorry miss, but I can't give you any hand outs while I am in uniform."
What? Hand out? You just want some assistance, isn't that his job?
"Oh, no I don't want that. I just need some help..." As you say this he looks you up and down. His gaze makes you feel uncomfortable, but at the same time you know he isn't sizing you up like a piece of meat. You slowly realize
why he was making his assumptions however.
"Are you lost then? Do we need to find your parents?"
"My parents? No sir, my father is dead and...so is my mother..." The last part trails out with a bit uncertainty, but you remember. You will never return to that woman's place again, no matter how much she grovels at your feet
and begs you for forgiveness. "I'm just-..." But then you realize, you have no idea how to continue. Your mouth opens as if to continue, but only silence falls out. The officer's face remains stoic, but even you can recognize the
sorrow held it the tilt of his eyebrows.
"Listen, I don't think you have been out here long, so let me give you some advice. If you don't want to end up in the care of the state, and I can understand why you wouldn't, then you are going to have to do some careful
waiting and planning. There's a few shelters here that will take you in and help you out, but they fill up quickly. If you can get in though you will be fine. But from what I know, it will be about a month before any of them start
accepting new people. You're young and a lady though, so they might take priority over you. For now though...well hang on here, let me write it down."
He pulls a small note book out and begins to scribble out on it as you stand and wait. He hands it to you, a few addresses written on it.
"Alright, here is some places to help you out. The first four are ones you can rotate aroumd...you might have to wait a few days between each one before they let you use them again but you won't starve at any rate. One or two of
them may even let you stay the night and clean yourself up if you offer to help out for the day. The last address, and this is very important, it's place you will be able to stay. Not now, but when about a month passes, just come up
to them and show them this note. My name is on the bottom so they'll know I sent you over. They'll let you stay and work there but only when they have more room. If you can last till then you will be fine, but if you need help or are in
a bad position...call us. But do know that we will be forced to take you into custody of the state and not many people like that. And I know I said I couldn't earlier but..."
He takes your hand and slips you two things; a folded $50 and a few hard candies.
"Believe it or not, I have kids of my own, it's not easy seeing all of you on the streets like this. Good luck, and stay safe alright?"
Tears well up in your eyes from his act of kindness and you can't stop yourself. Your arms wrap around the officer and he returns the gesture. Quickly you pull away, apologize and thank him before going your own way.
As you walk, you notice that there is a pawn shop
You don't really want to, but the weight of your bag is starting to get to you. You enter the pawn shop and manage to sell a few of your clothing, earning about $25. You feel a bit gipped from it though, you know that they were pretty
name brand pieces. Complaining won't get you anywhere though, so you add the cash to your already built stash. So far you have accumulated about $180 all together. The sun is at its highest point in the sky now, gently beating down on
the world.
You can't STAND it. The heat is terrible and your headache only continues to grow, as does the pain at your side.
Standing around crying about it won't fix your problem though, and you take a look at the addresses. You recognize the first one, it's only a few blocks away. The rest you will have to hunt down when the time comes. With your lighter
load and slightly higher spirits, you walk to the place.
It's a small church, the double doors wide open and a small line trailing out. The sign in front says;
Soup Kitchen
Any and Everyone Welcomed
God Bless You
It's mostly men in line, but there are actually a few women and even their children sprinkled here and there. Some are dressed as you expect, down and dumpy. Many of them are wearing what looks like clean clothes though, and this is a
bit surprising to you. Quickly, you take your place in line and it slowly shuffles forward. In about ten minutes you are at the front where some older women are working, a long table in front of them and a few others set up similar to
a cafeteria. When it's your turn, each one smiles at you as they prepare your meal. A girl roughly around your age hands you the tray, your eyes meet for a moment before you thank her and continue on to find your seat. That once again
familiar feel of embarrassment rises up in you. Despite telling yourself they wouldn't hurt do anything, you opt to sit at a table just for women and children. In front of you is a nice meal; potato and ham soup, peas, crackers, a juice
box (water is available for you to grab too), and even a small plate with some cherry cobbler on it. You offer up a quick thanks before digging in. The warmth of the soup spreads pleasantly inside of you, and even though the ham
tastes 'off' in a way you never experienced before, it is delicious. You carefully eat each thing slowly, savoring the taste. The cobbler and juice lay awaiting for you, and soon your fork makes your way into the sweet crust.
As you eat one of the older ladies comes over to you and offers an extra juicebox. You take it and place it in your bag, thanking her intensely. All too soon you are done eating though, and it's back on the streets you go. Your stomach
is full, yet there is a nagging feeling inside of you again. A desire of some sort.
Alright Delilah, your stomach is full. What do you do now?

You feel sweaty and awful, but maybe cleaning yourself up a bit will help get rid of that. Meandering around, you come across a convenience store about twenty minutes later. You enter, ducking behind the rows of products as the cashier
tries to greet you. You're just a bit worried that they will chase you out, but you come to the bathroom soon enough. Lucky for you, they're singles. You enter the woman's side and lock the door behind. Removing your coat, you can see
just how dirty you became. You run some water, and as it heats up you decide it would probably be for the best if you changed your clothes too. For now you strip down, standing there in nothing you come to the sink and begin to wash
your body the best you can with the paper towels. It doesn't feel anything like a real bath or even a shower, but it does make you feel a bit better seeing all the dirt come off onto the paper. As you grab another to use your eyes drift
down to your stomach. The little puncture marks in your skin are healing, but it looks like they will leave some scarring. As your fingers drift over them, you notice something you hadn't before;
Your entire body is covered in scratches and bruises. Most of these are faded away, but there are a few fresher ones layered on top that you can tell these were not from one incident. You compare them to the newest ones on your
arm, and it feels like a rock has been dropped in your stomach. The older bruises look similar to the new ones, in otherwords; they came from hands much larger then yours. They travel up and down your chest, your back, your legs, up and
in between your thighs...
You look at your face, your dirty fingernails traveling across as you examine your face. Dark bags have formed under your eyes, your lips look dried and chapped, your once bright red cheeks a dull sickly color. As you keep
looking over, that feeling of desire continues to grow. You have an idea how to get rid of it.
And you hate yourself for it. What an awful thing to want to do, how terrible and disgusting. You feel ashamed for your desires.
Realizing how long you have been inside, you hurry up your cleaning and put on a new set of clothes. Thick leggings with a long sweater, and though you just cleaned yourself you put the coat back on anyways. You exit the bathroom and
decide to purchase some aspirin and a water bottle. You take one once you leave, hoping it will help your pain. In a few hours, night will come.
You know that you have enough money for a cheap motel room, but you also know these are on the other side of town, which is not known for being exactly the cleanest place. If you stay where there are many people walking about though your chances of being mugged are much less. What do you do?

You decide that you need a nap, and it would probably be alright do that near one of the parks. But before that, an issue that has been nagging you demands attention.
Not everyone is going to want to hurt you, but what will you do when you come across someone who does? You're young and small, chances are you won't be able to fight back...empty handed that is.
A weapon, you need a weapon. A knife, one that you can keep ready to use at a moment. If anything, it will remind you to put up a fight.
You go into a phone booth near by and flip through the povided book inside, looking at the advertisements. You see that there should be a store that specializes in camping supplies about thirty minutes away. Close enough for you
to walk, though the slightly dulled pounding in your head screams against this, begging for a nap. A knife is more important though, and you trudge on. As you walk you notice there is a slight shaking to your hands, maybe something to
do with that 'need' you have been feeling?...
Forty-five minutes later you arrive at the store. You can tell that this is at the edge of the seedier part of a neighborhood and tighten your grip on the bag. You go in and make your way to the display case full of various
blades and small weapons. A few swiss army knives stick out to you, but you notice that the blade is rather small. It would be handy to have one, but protection is your top priority here. Next to them rests a couple of pocket knives,
a variety of size and color lay out before you. As you eye them, you decide on one. It's rather plain looking, but the serated edge on half of it looks promising to you. You attempt to buy it, but the cashier informs you that only
people that are sixteen or older can purchase any of the knives. Disheartened, you leave the store...and so does a man that had been shopping around the same time as you.
Sitting on the curb, you begin to rethink your plan when the man approaches you. Middle aged, patchy facial hair, outdated clothes, and a smell of cheap terrible perfume and some unknown smell mix together is presented to you.
"Hello little girl." He has a slight accent, and you are slightly taken aback.
"H-hello..."
"Wouldn't let you buy that pretty knife, would they? Such a shame. After all, I'm sure you needed it for a very good reason."
You feel uneasy. He is talking with a smile and a friendly tone, but it all feels so fake.
"Yeah...I really...really needed that." You answer, emphasizing your words a bit more then you should. You see that mistake as he smiles wider.
"Well little girl, it would be a shame for someone like you to be out here without a way to protect yourself, no? Heeey, wouldn't it be nice if I were to buy that knife in your place? It would be easy easy!"
For a moment, hope begins to surface in you and you open your mouth to speak, but the man cuts you off.
"But I can't be a charity, oh no no no. My time is very valuable, yeah? If I do something for someone, I gotta get something outta it. Normally I might take money, but I actually got more then I need. What I need..."
His eyes feel like they are burning holes in you as he stares you down, trying to imagine what your body looks like underneath that coat.
"Well what I need instead, is a little favor. A quick quick one. Ten-, no...FIVE minutes at the most! What do you say? I'll even BUY the knife for you! It won't cost you anything but a few minutes~..."
You are given a vague offer. Delilah, think this over before choosing, you do believe that if you do as the man says he will buy you the knife. What he wants from you is all unknown, but you have no way of getting a weapon to defend yourself otherwise. What do you do?
For just a flicker of a moment, you consider taking him up on his offer. Considered.
"What?...No. No no no nonono." You get up as you say this, looking around. The street is empty at the moment, but you remember there is still the cashier in the store. The man walks closer to you but you shove him off and run
back inside. You run as quick as you can back to the cashier, a man in his early twenties, handsome enough. Well, he doesn't look like a creep at all at least.
"Can I help you, ma'am?" He asks as you stand in front of him, trying to catch your breath.
"A man. Th-th-there's a man outside! He wants to...what me to..." At this point, your words are jumbled not from being winded but from fear. The cashier looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you jump as you hear the front door bells
jingle. The man from outside walks in, and the cashier gestures to him.
"Is this the guy?" You nod long before he finishes asking his question. A warm smile comes over the cashier's face as the man stops a few feet behind you. The cashier then waves you towards the backroom.
"Go on and stay in there for a moment. I'll take care of the situation." Without thinking about it you do as he says, going past the door. As you set down your bag you look around and realize the horrible mistake you have made.
Pictures are tapes all over by a desk, and as you look over you notice many of them are of the cashier and a group of men...including the foreign one outside. Your heart skips a beat as the door behind you opens and closes. You look
back, and see both of them standing there.
"So sorry about the wait, I needed to close up the store." The cashier's smile is now sickening to you. The door is locked behind him as the two come up to you.
"Little giiiiirl. All I wanted was just a few minutes!" As the man says this, the sound of his zipper is loud and ominous, like thunder. "But, I guess now I can have as long as I want, no?"
....
Don't forget that you tried to fight back. Never, ever forget this. You struggled the entire time, but your body...it feels weaker then normal. Not that it would have helped too much. It is so unfair, two men against one young girl.....
You wipe away your tears, trying to do so as you get dressed. Your coat feels welcoming now as it covers up your body again. You're all alone in the room, the two men up front. It's been around three hours since they brought you back,
you woke up about half an hour ago. Your body is just...so sore. You are in so much pain, and it's all over. You go to the door and it opens easily. The men are by the counter, talking about something like sports. You don't really care.
You go to your bag when the man walks up to you, a small box in his hand.
"Here you go, little girl. I'm many things, but I'm not a liar." You slowly reach out to grab it but the man drops it on the floor and grabs you by the cuff of your collar.
"Now...listen very carefully to what I am going to say. If you go to the police, if you try to tell ANYONE about this, we will tell them you stole the knife and that the story was all a lie. My friend here, he knows a lot of
good people in that job, yeah? Who do you think they will believe more? And if we find out you told anyone..." He pushes you away. "We will not hesitate to find you. It's sad really, you are a smart girl. But you are not a lucky one."
Without a word, you bend down and pick up the box and your bag again before sprinting out of the store. You don't stop either, traveling who knows which way. Your lungs are on fire, your body hurts and aches something terrible.
You only stop when you trip, your body falling hard against the ground. The box in your hand is bent out of shape, and as you sniff you open it. Inside is the knife you had looked at earlier, and the price tag screams at you. For twelve
dollars, those two men hurt you for almost three hours. You open the knife a few times, getting use to it, before slipping it into your boot. You stand up and look around. The sun has just set and you are in an unknown neighborhood.
Delilah, those man's words ring in your ears. You are a smart girl, but you are not a lucky one. You have your knife now, but you are scared to go to the police. What do you do now?
You know you should find some where that you can sleep for the night, somewhere safe. Pulling out the list, you look over it but, try as you might, you just can't properly focus. Gritting your teeth, you feel anger that you don't know how to let out. Shaky hands and legs aren't helping, and trying to keep them still only make you more angry. A soda can is on the ground near you. You kick it as hard you can, letting out a yell and then a sob. It feels like there is so much you need to let out, someway to let go of all that pain and rage you feel. You have no idea how, and tears of frustration begin to well in your eyes. You all but collapse on the curb, hiding your face in your arms and knees. You look up and around you, and it doubles down on you. You are all alone in this as far as you are concerned. You take out the note and using a colored pencil from your bag, you mark down the address of the store you were just in. What they did was not right, but you doubt your ability to get any revenge now. But that does not mean you can't in the future. You stare at the addresses on there again, already marking down the one you visited as a church. As you try to figure out which one to go to first, you absentmindedly start to scratch the back of your wrist. You are so hungry and tired, but most of all that other feeling you have is just...it's just so intense. Is that why you have been feeling so awful lately? Aside from...well...everything else that has happened, you feel like your body is 'lacking' something. So much has happened in the past few days though...
You look down in shock when a sudden pain rips through. You had been scratching hard enough to tear open the skin, a little bit of blood dripping out.
Blood...
Slowly, you raise your small wound to your mouth and gently suck.
Immediately you spit it out. The taste of it is...it's awful. That first man you drank from was awful but this...your own blood...your blood is pure vile. You notice that you blood also has a strange color to it, a bit darker and murky
looking compared to normal. There's no way you can survive on your own...but as you take a few more licks you decide for now it will push back that awful feeling.
...
You finally decided on an address to go to. It takes nearly two hours of walking and it is much darker now, but you are heading the right way. Using phone books and asking people, you are pointed in the right direction. The last
few people gave you extremely funny looks when you asked, but all you care about it getting there. All you need to do now it turn the corner, and Ms. Patricia's Woman's Shelter will be right the-...

Oh.
You are not quite sure what it is, but you sure as hell can read what the sign says.
"The Queen Bees Gentlemen's Club"
What? This is the right place...what is this? You approach the building, look around a bit. Maybe it's hidden behind whatever this is? You go through the alley to behind the building. It's dark and gloomy, trash littered every
where you can see. More shreds of hope are stripped from you. Where should you go now? You are so so tired, hungry, dirty...
You sit on the back steps of the building, unsure where to go from here.
Suddenly, the door behind you opens and a man carrying a trashcan walks out. He is dressed rather nicely, though a bit odd. He is just as surprised to see you sitting there, and you jump up.
"Ah!..I'm sorry I was looking um...looking for the shelter?..."
"Sorry lady. That place has been closed for, maybe a year now? Cut funding and not enough donations, you know how it goes." He sets down the trash can and lights up a cigarette, looking at you as he does. "Or..do you...how old are you?"
"I just needed some help for the night..." You avoid the question, your eyes focussed on the ground.
"Hate to tell you that, maybe one of the other ones are opened? Bad luck I guess." He goes to dump the can, but as he says the word bad luck you can't help but quietly cry. You use your sleeves to wipe away your tears, but they just
won't stop. You flinch hard as you feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you watch as he finishes the cigarette in his mouth before smothering it underneath his shoe.
"Listen, I had to see ladies cry. Especially cute ones like you. Now, I ain't no charity but...if you like you can stay in the back for tonight. There's some couches back there, I'm sure the girls won't mind."
"Girls...there's women inside? I thought this was a gentlemen's club?..." He smirks a bit as you say that.
"They're just the entertainment. Don't worry though, I'm the only guy allowed in the back. Some of them girls may be a bit rough around the edges, but I'll tell them to play nice with ya."
You start to thank him, but there is hesitation in your voice and actions. You follow him inside though, going down some narrow hall ways. You can hear the talking and laughter of men, but the man leads you to a place that seems far
away from them. He opens the door and you are greeted by the smell of cheap perfume and wine.
A group of about seven or eight women are inside, dressed in different outfits chatting with one another. They look first at the man then at
you, a bit surprised.
"Ay, Mr. Faraway, who ya got there? She ain't your daughter is she?" One lady speaks up right away, at the mention of daughter a few of the other ladies laugh and giggle. He waves them off and pushes you gently in.
"Listen ladies. You got a guest tonight, she staying till closing time alright? You be nice to her or I'll make sure your assigned to those Russian men again, you hear me?"
A chorus of yes and yessir greet you, and the man says his good-bye before closing the door. The girls direct you to a couch, where you try and take up the least amount of room as possible. Of course you are surrounded by the
workers, some working on putting on make up or changing clothes. They all take a moment to introduce themselves and each other..
"Ya hungry? I'm sure we can get ya somethin' from the kitchen." The girl from earlier, Alice, leans in close from her chair.
"Yes! I mean...yes please, but I would really like to clean off first...do you think that would be okay?"
The girls direct you to a washroom, and you take the time to clean up. Avoiding looking down at your body as much as possible, you make sure you clean every part of your body. The shampoo and soap in there smell a little different than
you are used to, but you quickly grow to love it. You dry off, put on the nightgown you brought, and walk back to where the girls are. A plate of meat and potatoes is given to you as soon as you enter. Taking your spot back on the couch
the girls begin to flock you again. One girl. Lisa, asks if she can brush your hair. You give her permission, and she gets to work. It feels so nice, her movements gentle and precise.
"Ain't too often we see girls your age around. I guess you're on your own already huh? Shame, I think I was sixteen when I left home." This was said by a redhead, Sherry. You only nod for your answer and finish eating.
"Why don't ya tell us a bit about yourself? You look like you need someone to talk to."
So Delilah, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself? Maybe some of the things you like?
"Um well..." You look around at the faces around you. They way they are looking at you is less like an adult would and more...well how your friends would have. A bit of ease washes over you.
"Alright. I just moved her a while ago with my mom. It use to be the three of us, mom, me, and my dad. But he died a while ago...I was eight. He was great, I mean he worked a lot but when I was with him it was pretty good. He would read to me whenever I wanted, even when he was really
tired. I would go to the library every week just to pick out a bunch of different stories for him to read, but there was one I really loved. It was Beauty and the Beast, I would check that one out so many times he finally bought me a copy.
I made him read it so often that the spine began to break a bit. Once a week he would take me out to get ice cream and we would eat them by this park with a huge lake. There were boats all over and a bunch of birds too! It was always so
much fun, but one day he went to work and never came back." You were smiling as you spoke, a giddiness in your voice. As the last of your words trailed out a few tears had managed to drip down your face before you realize it. A few
tissues are handed to you and gladly you accept them. A girl, May, rubs your back a bit as you keep talking.
"I never really spent too much time with my mom. It's not like she worked but she just...wasn't home. And when she was she never really talked to me. After dad died though she started drinking, a lot. It's weird, him dying
did something to her I think but I don't really understand it. I know there were nights where the two of them would just scream at each other. After he was gone though she got, well...mean. Really mean. One day I come home from school,
and everything we own is boxed up and a bunch of guys are walking out with them! She said we needed to move and quickly too. We ended up here but then I ended up really sick. I slept a lot and..." You hesitate to tell them the next
part, your face must have reflected that notion.
"Don't force yourself. You don't gotta tell us anything you don't wanna." You nod as she says this. "Why not tell us about some things you like to do instead?"
"Oh I like sewing. Well I kinda had to learn how to. Before we moved I liked to play outside a lot. There were a lot of places that I liked doing it, I would even bring Ms. Buttons-..."
"Ms Buttons?" You blush a bit as you answer.
"Ah my...well..." You pull her out and show her off, sheepishly and somewhat embarrassed to have her at your age. The bunny is gently slipped from your hands by Alice.
"Well ain't she cute? Shame she ain't married yet, but I guess that goes for all of us." There is some laughter as she hands Ms Buttons back, but you know they aren't mocking you or anything.
>>53062 (You)
"I use to bring her with me on my adventures, but sometimes I got careless and I would go home with a ripped pant leg or sleeve. One time I ripped off one of Ms Buttons's ears! I was so scared, so I decided that I needed to learn how
to fix things up."
"All done!"
The woman who had been working on your hair suddenly speaks up and she turns your body out and your face up to everyone. "I couldn't stop myself at just brushing~"
You are met with the echoes of praises as the ladies comment on your hair, telling you how lovely and nice it looks. Your face flushes red and you look down, away, anywhere that wasn't another face.
"Oh look, you guys went and scared her!" "It ain't my fault, look how cute she looks!" "Her hair is so different...it's so light but so wavy and thick."
Despite all eyes on you, you don't really feel scared like when the men looked at your. Just flustered...until May picks up your hand and brushes her fingers over your arm.
"If you don't mind me being so rude...how did you get these?" There is a silence that falls in the room for the first time, and your heart skips a beat. "Was it your mother?" You shake your head slowly.
"A man?" Your body goes rigid and it feels like all the air in your lungs have been pushed out. "Ah, I see..."
"Like I said, you don't gotta tell us, we understand." Alice sighs and looks away. "Men are just the worst, aren't they? Always takin' what they want, doin' as they please. I don't know for sure what happened to ya, but can I at least
give you some advice to keep?" You look up at her and nod.
"It's shitty, the fact that some guy out there hurt ya. Most of us know what that's like. Sometimes you're too trustin' or sometimes you do somethin' stupid, and you're left on the side of the road, heels in your hand and
mascara runnin' down your face...well, you know what I mean. They hurt ya or take advantage of ya then they leave you to lick your own wounds. My dad and way too many boyfriends were like that. But let me tell you somethin', no matter
how awful you feel, don't let it get ya. I mean, learn from it, but don't let it be EVERYTHING in your life. You're still young, luckily you can bounce back from everythin' life throws at ya, and hopefully..."
She offers you a sad smile at this last bit.
"This is the only time you end up in a place like this. You may never be okay after what happened to you, the sun may never shine as bright as it did before, there may always be those memories burn into your head. But just remember,
that ain't what makes you into a person. How you live your life afterwards does. Cry about it now, then pick yourself up."
You nod, even if you only understand some of what she said. A loud yawn escapes your mouth.
"Oh, duh. We've been keeping her up. Someone get her a blanket, let her get some sleep." The girls move off the couch and a throw blanket is brought to you.
"We still have to work for a while, but we'll try to keep it down. You just rest." You get in position, the couch isn't as good as a bed but its much better then the street. You are laying down, your eyes and heart heavy.
"Um...girls?" You speak up, and though your voice is soft you get the attention. "Thank you...so much."
A parade of goodnights greet you as you begin to fall asleep. You are clean, full, warm, and safe for the moment. That desire is in the back of your mind, but for now you can ignore it.
When you wake up, a plate of food, a note, and silence greets you. You begin to eat the pancakes left behind, drinking from the glass of juice left for you too. The note reads;
The ladies told me of your situation. While it isn't wise to have a young girl like you hanging around our 'fine' establishment, if you ever feel in need of help,
do not be afraid to come by. We are only available on Friday and Saturday nights, unfortunately. Leave through the back and the door will lock on its own. If you need
to come by, remember to use the alley!
~Albert Faraway~
On the bottom of the note is a group of signatures, all from the girls. You decide to keep the note, putting it next to the other one. You get dressed and walk out through the back and go to the street. It is late morning, but it is a
rainy overcast. A newspaper thrown in the trash gives you the date; Sunday, December 4th.
You know for sure that you can return here if you need to, but only during two days of the week. What is your plan now?
You walk down the way, thankful that the sun isn't out to make your time more miserable. As you ponder your next choice, the sound of bells ring off in the distance. You easily recognize these as church bells and decide to walk to them.
In about fifteen minutes you come across a big church. Waves of people are coming out, service must be over. You notice how nice they are dressed and decide to wait till most of them have cleared out so you don't stick out as much. Your
coat is nice but it is filthy at this point. Once enough people have left you approach the big and old building. You notice a woman around your mom's age talking to a bunch of people, and from what you can tell she seems to be in some
sort of position of power there. You stand behind her, waiting for her conversation with the family in front of her to come to a close. They point you out to her though, and say their goodbye early, leaving the two of you alone.
"And how may I help you dear?" Her voice is...sweet. But in that, so sweet it's sick kind of way. You are in no position to judge though.
"Hello ma'am. I came here hoping that the church could offer me some assistance." You speak confidently, the last church you went to was so nice.
"Is your family part of our congergation?"
"Um, n-no..."
"Do you attend church regularly? Do you give your tithe?"
"No ma'am..."
"Then I see no reason for the church to help you. We can't just offer handouts to every bum-...homelessness that walks in. You must learn to help yourself before you can accept help from others. Start attending for a few weeks,
and then we'll see about letting you stay." Her curt answer cut you deep, you were not ready for it. You stand there, mouth agape.
"Now, if that's all..." Her disgusting smile appears again and her tone is that dripping sweetness. "I must go prepare for our night service!" She walks off and away, leaving you standing there confused. You back away before
turning towards the front doors. As you open them, a gentle voice calls out to you from a side room.
"Don't mind her too much, she's cranky" You look and see it coming from a frail old man, dressed in a simple button up shirt and formal pants. He shakes a bit as he walks up to you, reaching out a wrinkled and thinning hand.
"Mr. Chalker, though you can call me whatever you like." Your hand reaches out and stops for a moment, but you take his in a handshake.
"I'm Delilah."
"What a sweet name, for a sweet girl I'm sure." He smiles, missing teeth greeting you. You don't feel any fear in this moment though, and you return it back with your own grin.
"You look like you need some time away from outside, and certainly away from any crab apples. Us staff members are going to have a nice lunch, but it won't be ready for about...oh maybe an hour. We're having roast beef though.
Why not stay and enjoy some"
"What about that lady?..."
"Oh, Mrs. Sanchez? Don't you worry about her. She gave you an earful just now, but she doesn't really mean it. She got in trouble from some higher ups in the church for allowing people to stay here and they threatened to cut some of the
charity we do. A shame really, they preach and preach but when it comes to living up to what they teach? Bah."
"Does that mean I can stay here?" As you ask this, his wispy eyebrows furrow down in sorrow.
"I'm afraid not. We can't break the rules again without risking someone getting fired."
You face melts a bit at this, "oh.."
"Now, don't you feel too bad about it. Listen, why don't you help me in the library for now? We got some lil' ones in there and someone needs to help put them books back in place. If you help me, I'll make sure you get a hot meal from
it." You nod egarly at this. A good meal sounds amazing of course, but you miss your books. You follow Mr. Chalker to a room and enter it. As he said there is a young lady in there with a group of four children in front of her as she
reads. The room isn't too big but there is a good amount of books stacked on the shelves. Most of them are church related, as expected. A pile of them rests on a table, and Mr. Chalker sits down. At this time you notice he has been
using a cane the entire time.
"Alright, now I know it may not look it but this old man doesn't have the back like he use to. I just can't reach the higher shelves without running out of breath. I'll sort these and tell you where they go, and you place them
on the shelf for me. How does that sound?" You nod in agreement, and as he goes through the pile you remove your coat and set it down with the bag. He hands you various books and you begin to place them back in their appropriate spot.
It only takes you fifteen minutes, but the books are all put in their place.
"Wowie, that's the quickest I've ever done it. Now don't you go telling no one you did the hard work, I got to keep a good reputation here ya know?" He winks as he says this, and you can't help but smile as you take a spot in
front of him at the table. "Now, if you don't mind me asking, why is a lady as young as yourself out alone?"
Your smile remains but it falters at the corners. The children are now working on coloring pages and the lady brings you two over cups.
"Here's your coffee, you slave driver. Making a sweet girl do your work for you like that." She teases him as she hands him the cup, and then hands the other to you. "I didn't know what you would like. We didn't have any hot chocolate
left, but I tried to make this sweet enough for you with milk and sugar." The liquid in the cup is a pale tan, and you thank her for it.You take a sip, and shiver a bit. It's still bitter, but you decide to grin and bear it. You are living like an adult, it would be best to act like it. You take another drink and give the old man an answer.
"I just...couldn't stay at home any longer. If I did..." Your words fall short as you stare at your reflection in the cup.
"Do you mind if I...well make a confession?"
"This isn't a Catholic church silly. We're Lutheran." He sees the expression on your face and gives your hand a squeeze. "Well, it's alright. I'm all ears."
You have some guilty feelings inside of you that you wish to let out. The fact if it is actually your fault or not does not matter. What would you like to tell this man, even if it's not the entire truth?You wrestle with the swarm of thoughts in your head and take the time to carefully choose your words.
"I've had a lot of pain in the last few days. I don't really understand a lot of it but I do know that there's this...this hate inside of me. It's deep down, wriggling and trying to tear me apart. It says, 'go and hurt those
people who hurt you...get revenge'. And there's a big part of me that wants to listen, that wants to go and hurt everyone that has hurt me. I..I already did hurt one. I hurt him badly...and on top of that I stole from him too. And then
I ran away from my mom without telling her anything. But those feelings...they scare me. I'm scared to become a person who hurts everyone, I don't want to do that. I want to be a good person but at the same time, I feel like if I don't
get back and show them the same hurt they did to me I won't be able to sleep again. And then...there's something else down there with the hate. There's this feeling...this desire for something...and I just don't know what to do about it.
That scares me just as much, but if I am worried if I don't give in to it then I will tear myself apart further...and then what will I be?" You didn't notice, but your voice hushes down to a whisper, and it is as if you are just talking
to yourself rather then the old man in front of you. You're so focused on your words that you almost forget he is there till he speaks up again.
"Well...I would say that what you feel is just human nature. We're not perfect by nature, and that means hurting others and of course being hurt. Hmm..." He leans on his hand and thinks about his words for a moment.
"As a man of the church, the best advice I can give you is to try and not give in to your hateful actions, and if you do then ask for forgiveness. But would you like to hear my advice as man who has been here for seventy years?"
You nod and he continues. "People are going to hurt you. Sometimes by accident, but there are those that will hurt you on purpose. Try and realize which is which. If they hurt you on accident, consider forgiving them. But if
they purposely hurt you, over and over again, then you do what it takes to make sure they won't do it anymore. As for your..well 'desire'...I don't know what it is. I can't offer you help on that too much as an old man, but as a
church man I will say, 'hate the sin, love the sinner'. If you give in, it probably won't be the end of the world. You are a child of God, and God is forgiving."Just as he finishes, a call from outside announces lunch is ready. He guides you to the kitchen and eating area and you help him carry his plate with your own. You don't speak about what he told you, but you enjoy a nice
conversation with him anyways. As you get ready to go, he approaches you with a folded blanket in his hands.
"Here, take this. There's also some toiletries wrapped up in the middle. Come by again next Sunday. An extra hand for chores is always nice, and I'm sure a homemade meal is always appreciated. You take care now."
You thank him for the new supplies and pack them away, walking back out. You notice that 'the feeling' in creeping in, and you start to scratch at your neck. Maybe you will try giving in to it once more, and then try and stave it off
for as long as you can.
Do you try and find someone to feed off of? What is your actions now? It is now 2:30 in the afternoon on a Sunday. Many shops may be closed.Blood...where could you get blood? You think about a hospital for a moment but...that seems risky. What if you get caught? Plus, doesn't that blood help save lives? You feel awful, but not like you are going to die anytime soon. You would rather get your 'supply' from somewhere that wouldn't hurt someone you didn't want hurt. Maybe...maybe you could go back to the store? You don't enjoy the idea of using those...monster's...blood, but at least you won't feel so
bad about hurting them. Figuring out your direction, you set out on the hunt. You have no idea what happens if you feed from someone or if this is even the correct set of actions you should be taking. You remember what you called them,
monsters, and reach up to feel your teeth. What you're about to go do...that makes you a monster too, doesn't it? Your finger glides under your front teeth, feeling their slight gap before going towards your eye-teeth. Your heart beats
a little faster as you feel the point on them...are they any different before? A monster usually has big ugly fangs but your mouth doesn't feel any different...not that you can tell anyways. But you will soon find out if it's actually something like blood that will satisfy you. The knife in your pocket, you keep your hand inside...fingering and moving it about. You try not to think about what you might have to do. Despite what he did to you, the thought of becoming
a murderer doesn't settle well with you. Maybe you can knock him out, cut his arm or something, then lick up whateve-
The sound of a child crying breaks your thoughts, and you look at where it is coming from. A hedge lines the edge of the sidewalk, and it seems the child is inside. You poke your head through and see a small boy, about five years old,
on the ground. He is covering his eyes, and you can see that he tore up his pants by the knee, a bright red peering out...
He looks nicely dressed and is probably just lost. What do you decide to do?Looking around, you make sure you're alone before approaching the boy.
"Are you alright?" You speak softly, as to not spook him. He looks up at you, his big round eyes full of tears.
"I'm lost...and my knee hurts...I wanna go hoooome..." His lip quivers as he whines, you kneel down in front of him carefully. His knee
isn't really scraped all that bad, he probably just fell or got it caught on something.
"How did you end up out here? Where's your parents?" You look at his knee, your eyes staring intensely at this wound. Your heart
begins to beat faster, like its going to burst out at any moment.
The boy sniffs and wipes away some tears as he answers.
"Me and mommy were standing and waiting for the bus. A car crashed though and it was really scary and I ran. I tried to find my way back but
I don't know where I am...then I fell and hurt my knee. It's all bloody and gross..." He laments his situation, holding his leg. It's nothing
terrible, even you can tell that. The boy is probably more frightened then anything else.
"Don't worry, I'll help you. Lets take care of your knee first..." You already know what you want to do, and as much as you hate to...
"But first, close your eyes okay? Gotta keep them covered. I'm going to use my magic powers to make the pain go away, but you MUST keep your eyes shut the whole time, or it won't work alright?" The boy nods and closes his eyes tight, covering them with his hands. You lean down, wiping
away any dirt still stuck to him. Taking a few breaths to steady yourself, you lightly give the wound a lick.
It's sweet.
Your head is whirring and you stop yourself from jumping on it. You don't want to hurt him, making sure his eyes are still covered, you press your lips against the wound gently instead, as if kissing it. You let his blood flow past your lips and into your mouth. It isn't much but...
God, is it exhalterating. Your head feels light and fuzzy as you pull away. Only a small taste, but that's all you need for now. The
bleeding has stopped, and to help add to the allusion you make some grand gestures and say some funny words before giving his knee a light tap.
"There! Now you will heal up and be all better soon!" The boy opens his eyes and glances at his knee. Before he can ask any questions
you help him to his feet and walk him to the side walk.
"Now...do you know where home is, or do you know your mommy's number?
"Yeah...I think I know both."
What is the best way to get him home? You don't have a phone, but it's getting dark. A bus station is a bit away but you would need to search for a pay phone."Alright, well let's try calling her." You look around. "But first...where to find a phone..."
Taking his hand in yours, you lead him down the street. Many shops you pass have long since closed for the day, and as the light
further disapears you begin to worry. Tightening your grip on his, you keep looking.
"I'm hungry..." He speaks up, his voice showing how tired he really is.
"Oh! Um here...take one of these..." You fumble in your pocket and pull out one of the hard candies from earlier. He eagarly takes it in his
mouth, you are relieved to have silenced him.
"Phone phone phone...where are we going to find a phone to call your mother...who isn't going to be home...because she is out looking for you..."
You stop in your steps as you say this, defeat hitting you in the face. He may know the number, but so what? She won't be home to answer.
"Alright change of plans...we um..."
You look around and see a police car strolling by a little ways up. You don't want to go to the police...but it should be no issue for them
to help get a little boy home, right?
"Listen, we need to hurry. See that car? If you wanna get home, we gotta catch up to it. Careful though, alright?"
He nods and you decide to hide your bag behind a bush before taking his hand tightly. You count down from three, and you both start to run.
Lucky for you, the car is going residential speeds, so you are soon behind it by a street or so. Without really realizing it you let go of
his hand and rush as quickly as you can to the car, waving your arms and shouting. You nearly run past it as it screeches to a halt, and the
boy slowly catches up, panting as his little lungs try to breath. A female officer steps out from the front, looking at you with a puzzled
look before her eyes drift down to the boy and her entire face changes.
"Oh my g-...are you Timothy Matthews?" He nods at her question, and she talks to someone on her radio before walking around.
"We have been looking all over for you little boy...who are you?" She adresses the last part to you as she picks up the boy in her arms.
"Oh, I found him...he was crying and scared...I didn't really know what to do I'm sorry..."
"You shouldn't be past cerfew. Where's your parents? If they aren't with you, I'm going to have t-..."
Her radio cuts her off and she sighs.
"Hold on, let me deal with this. Don't you move, understand?" The officer goes and places the boy in the back seat, talking to him and
strapping him in as she sits in the front to talk to whoever. You slowly step back before running as quickly as you can the way you came.
You hear the lady shouting at you, but you don't stop. When you come back to where your bag is you jump behind some plants and listen, waiting
to hear the sound of sirens or a car...but its silence. Once again you are alone.
It is now night time, but your head is still rushing...it feels...wonderful? You don't think you can sleep. What do you do?
You're not sure how to explain it, but for the first time in a long time you feel as if there is energy in your body, something different then usual. You pick up your bag and begin walking down the street. It is a lonely winter night, few people or cars pass by. You come across a small plaza, a few stores making up a shopping center. Most of them are useless to you, clothes and what not, but one catches your eyes.

Family Market

Food. Making sure no one is patrolling around, you make your way to the back. Sure enough, a row of dumpsters greet you. You're not sure if you will be able to find anything fresh, but maybe some canned food got thrown out by accident? You approach one and struggle to life the lid. It's taller then you are, but you manage to give enough of a push for the lid to swing back. Struggling to get a good foot hold, you straddle the edge and look in. It's dark but you can tell there is plenty of stuff inside. Now the question is...is it stuff that you can salvage? With speed you were unaware you had, you been sifting through the bags. You quickly tell what is actual trash from places like the bathrooms and what is stuff from the backroom. Most of it seems to be packaging and half open boxes of things you don't need. You continue your searching with earnest though.

....

By the time you exit, three dented cans are in your possession. You can't quite read what they say, but any food is better then none. You zip them away in your pack, and decide it isn't too safe to stick around now. A flashlight would be handy...

You walk only a little bit before coming across a convenience store. Entering, you go straight to the bathroom. You freshen up, washing your face and hands. As you lick your lips, you can still taste...that.

Are you really a....?

Suddenly, your head feels light. There's a wooziness creeping up on you, your body starting to sway. You take your bag and leave the store. You exit and try to walk but you end up not getting too far. A bench near by offers you seating as you sit down and try to figure out what is wrong.

Maybe...maybe you didn't drink enough?...maybe you need more then a lick?

As you think about this, you see that a bus is coming up to your spot.
Do you board this bus?
No...no going on that bus might be a mistake. If you get hurt again...if you walk into something so dangerous...then it's just your fault. You pick up your bag and walk off. A light and airy feeling fills your head ...you feel dizzy. Your steps stumble a bit, but you continue to walk forward. After a bit you are able to walk straight again, your hand reaching up and scratching at the side of your neck as you meander through. The bus passes by you, but you soon forget about it. All you focus on is walking forward. One foot in front of the other, always moving go go go go go go go gogogogogogogogogo

You stop when you finally reach a walkway, the lit up red man flashing at you from across the street. Cars are starting to regularly pass you but...you can tell its late in the night. A glance around is telling enough. You are just on the edge of the namesake of the city, the reason why it 'never sleeps'. People push past you and you see that the man on the sign is now green. You allow yourself to follow the flow of the crowd. Soon they leave you off on the other side, and you continue your walking. You take in all the lights and signs...everything around you is just a barrage of information. None of it means anything to you. There is a small park across the way, and you take your spot on a bench. You notice that you never stopped scratching and yank your hand away. Its starting to get colder outside, and your hands are shaking. You tuck them underneath your coat to try and warm them up, your breath once again showing up in the air as you exhale. What will you do if it snows? Are you still going to be on the streets when Christmas comes? What about your birthday? You chew on your lip, nearly drawing blood. You feel so alone surrounded by so many people.
It's getting colder out, the chances of snow happening are getting closer, but you will probably be fine for tonight. What do you do in the middle of the night?
Fatigue hits you with a sucker punch, just keeping your head up feels like a chore. Where can you sleep though? On one hand, you feel as though with so many people around the chances of someone messing with you are low. Yet...you're more likely to be moved or 'caught'...You look around and the trees catch your interest. Just maybe...

You wait till your sure there are no eyes on you, and hoist your bag to a branch. It takes a bit, but you manage to keep it there steady. You soon follow, pulling yourself up. By the time you do your breathless and need to take a moment to regain your strength, but you keep moving. First the bag, then you, and then the bag again, till you feel like you are out of sight. You find two branches to wedge yourself between...you're an expert at this. It has been a while, but climbing trees is something that you can do in your sleep, which you almost did just now. You pull out the blanket from earlier, carefully covering yourself up with it. Ms Buttons is given a good night kiss and returned safely to her spot, and you try to settle down for sleep.

...do other people feel these same urges as you? What if you're all alone in this? Are you...a freak? It's an awful feeling, it makes you sick to your stomach. And next to these strange urges are those hatefully things you have tucked away, waiting to spring out at any moment. Can you stay good? Are you just going to end up like...like those awful people? You think about them, but you also think about all those nice people too. What an awful feeling...constantly juggling between all these events. Of course you want the good times but what's the point if it makes the pain dealt to you sting harder? If life is going that way it may just be easier to always be on the ground getting kicked...the pain would eventually numb away then right?

You cover your face with your hands. Such awful thoughts. You have to stay hopeful. It's the only way you can get through this. You decide to make a resolution to yourself before you fall asleep, goals that you want to keep...stuff you WILL achieve. You take out Ms Buttons once more, holding her in front of you.
"Ms Buttons, tomorrow I am..."
Delilah, what are some promises you are going to make?
"I...I won't let anything stop me. Even if I...when I...get hurt...it won't stop me. I'll cry and then move on...even if I have to cry while I go. " Ms buttons remains silent, but you know she listened to every word. You wanted to add another part to the promise, but you're not completely sure if you could actually keep it.

Can you stay a good person? You've already experienced so many terrible things...maybe you weren't as good as you thought. Maybe you deserve everything that happened to you. Punishment dealt that you have earned, why else would bad things happen?

...

You fall asleep holding your bunny without realizing it. Despite what people might think, the spot in the tree isn't so bad. The only you wake up a few hours later, the sliver of moon in the sky, is because of a pain inside of you.

Unlike everything else you have been feeling, this pain is actually...well some what normal? It feels like your muscles somewhere near your stomach are moving, contracting over and over. It's there, but while it hurts its nothing major...yet it is just enough for you to feel uncomfortable. After adjusting for a bit, you realize that you can't sleep and now you feel...a 'dirty' feeling in a certain place...
You're not sure what's wrong, but you can't really sleep right now either. What do you do?
You climb down, bag following behind. There are much fewer people around, it is sometime early in the morning. Maybe some food will make you feel better? You pull out the cans you had found earlier.
Sardines in mustard. Brown Sugar Carrots. And something called...Spam?

The sardines and Spam have a way to open them already, but the carrots will need something else. You have had carrots before, but never tried either of the other two. Either way, it would be good to have a fork or something to eat them with. A corner store looks open near by. You walk inside, finding some plastic forks ready by some premade food...

You feel...wet? Did you sit in something by accident? Your hand brushes over your butt, but you don't feel anything. Are you just sweaty? It's a weird feeling...when you walk that pain subsides a bit but you aren't sure what that is either...are you sick?
Leave the store now and go eat or check yourself out? And when you do, which can do you eat first?

Maybe it would be best to make sure you're alright in the bathroom. At the least you can clean yourself up while you're at it. You enter one of the stalls and pull down your leggings...

...

Oh...oh no...oh nononononono

Why is there blood? There's not a lot of it but...are you hurt?...is it from....did they ACTUALLY tear you up inside...? Why why why why

You remember a conversation you had with a friend about two years ago. She had to leave gym for feeling 'ill', and when you asked her about it later she explained...

Is this your first period? You forgot this kind of thing happened. There isn't too much but...in all honesty it is still terrifying. The new 'weight' on your chest...the way your once straight body had started to develop a curve...you're starting to grow up that means...right?

You feel your chest tighten at the thought. What was it that your friend said she had to carry around now? Where could you find some?...oh god how embarrassing...

For now, you stuff some toilet paper against your panties and leave after washing yourself up a bit. You soon find yourself outside on a bench again...maybe some food will make you feel better. You decide to open the can of sardines...oh...they look like goldfish kind of...

You force a bite and grimace at it. The flavor is strong and the mustard doesn't help...you force yourself to eat the can though. How disgusting.
You have about five more hours till the sun rises. What do you do?
You can't remember what it was your friend used...but maybe you job your memory if you look? You kind of remember her saying you could get that stuff anywhere...

You return back to the store, roaming down the few isles available. Food...car stuff...deodorant, toothpaste, pills...

There they are. A few packages and boxes in pink look back at you. There are so many options though...what do they mean? How are you supposed to choose...aren't they all supposed to do the same thing?...

You pick the cheaper box and take it to the cashier. There's two of them working and you hope that the girl checks you out...of course it's the guy though. You blush and hand over the box, your hands shaking...now he knows that you're currently...god how awful...

But he takes it and rings it up for you without any comment about it, politely asking you if there is anything else you need. A "n-no, thank you...!" squeezes out before rushing out of there. You're too embarrassed to go back in there and use the bathroom again, but for now you will be fine. You shiver a bit, your arms wrapping around yourself. In one direction, you see a group of women standing about talking to each other...in the other a police car is sitting around the corner.
Which direction to you head in? You don't really feel like its a smart idea to see in one area too long.
The group of women seem the safest. You've had a pretty good run with them so far. You shuffle over and notice something odd. There's about six of them just standing about, a lot of them smoking but...
Why are they dressed like that? Aren't they cold? There's so much skin showing...but you shouldn't judge. You come closer to them, standing a few feet away. You can catch glimpses of conversation.

"Fuck...if I don't get anyone soon I'm goin' home."

"Did you see that whore Clara? Girl, she's either gotten fat or pregnant. "

"...so I told him if he put another hand on me I was gonna whop his ass."

They talk so blunt and vulgar, but at least you're in safety with numbers. Back against a wall, you sit on the sidewalk a few feet away. It only take a couple moments before you are noticed.

"Hey girl, whatchu doin' over here? You workin'?"

Working...are they working right now? What does that mean?
How do you respond?
"Working? I'm not...I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll just move along..." You scramble to pick yourself up and walk past them, but a hand holds you back.
"Now hold up a minute, you're just a lil girl. What you doin' out here this late?" The lady talking is wearing tons of gaudy and excessive jewelry, taking puffs from her cigarette. The smoke hurts your eyes.

"I'm just...on my own."

"Don't look like you're doin' too good of a job about that."

"Aw leave her alone Michele, she ain't worth messin' with."

"I ain't messin' with! Look at her..." She pulls you back and shows you off to the rest of the girls, her hands on your cheeks. Alcohol, perfume, sweat, and cigarette smoke fill your senses. "You think a sweet girl like her could make it out on the streets? The men would just eat her up the first chance they got! She needs someone to show her the ropes, don't she?"

The other women make a few snide comments, but a car pulls up casually and stops them. The passenger window roles down, and Michele leans against it.

"Who you want, mister?"

You see a man inside think for a moment, and point towards you. Your heart catches in your throat.

"What, her? She ain't for sell, I mean look at her. No meat on her bones or nothin'." She ashes her cigarette and the man points to one of the other women. There's some exchange between the girl and man before she enters the car and he drives away.

"Now, if you ain't workin'..." The attention shifts to you again, it's as if one of the girls wasn't just taken away. "What are you doin' out here?"
What do you tell them?
Your grip around your bag tightens as your eyes move to the ground.

"I'm just...surviving at this point. Home isn't really safe for me and...well...I guess I'm just trying to pick myself up."

"Preachin' to the choir, girly." Michele throws her butt under the purple heel she wears before lighting up another one. She offers you a cigarette but you politely decline. "Course, never woulda thought a girl lookin' like you would be out here. You're just to...clean? I don't mean like dirt, I mean you just seem like a goody two-shoes. Course I guess it's easy 'nuff for anyone to end up out here. I use to be in line for valedictorian ya know...nah just kiddin'. I've always been trash."

She looks like she is about to see something else, but her eyes light up and the smoke in her mouth nearly drops.

"Oh shit, time to scram girls."

You look back and see the police cruiser from earlier pulling up.

"What's wro-..."

"What are you, dumb? Come on!" Your arm is pulled and you are forced to follow the group down the alley. It's amazing how well they can walk in those heels...

They're path seems to twist and turn and you are hopelessly lost through it all. Finally you get to stop, bending over and trying to catch your breath. You can see that you're in a neighborhood...and not a good one either.

"Well looks like it's time to call it a night. See you bitches later." Michele is given a few goodbyes as the other girls leave. She walks a few feet then turns back towards you.

"Well, aren't you comin'?"
"Excuse me?"
"You don't wanna stay out here in the middle of the day, much less at night. And I'm guessin' from your condition you ain't got much else to do."
She seems to be inviting you home. What do?
"O-oh! Um sure...thank you." She has already started walking again and you quickly move to catch up.

"Do you live near by? In one of these apartments or something? Do you live by yourself? D-..."

"Maybe try introducin' yourself first, Bunny."

"My name is Delila-, wait what? Bunny?"

"Yeah, y'know like a rabbit. You ain't never seen a bunny around a bunch of wolves, you just kinda stick out like that. Delilah, eh?" She pulls out her cigarette, and you notice her eyes overshadow with something sad. "My ma's name is Delilah...I ain't callin' you that. "

Her stride quickens and you struggle a little to keep up.

"You wanna know bout my place? Well lemme tell ya, it ain't no fancy Ritz or nothin'. It's a real hole in the way. But, it keeps warm in the winter and the door hasn't been busted open in a couple months now. I deal with men enough so Tony...my boyfriend...ain't usually around. If I wanna see his sorry face then I go over to his place...plus that way I can just sneak in and see if he's got another ho in his bed..."

Her face snaps from her angered look to a more ..'relaxed' one.

"Look at me, babblin' on...I must be tired. It gets long these nights ya know...well I guess you wouldn't..." She looks over and a grimace comes across her. "Hey, stop scratchin', you'll bleed if ya keep that up."

You hadn't realized that you'd been doing it again, you pull your hand away from your neck. Michele keeps talking about her work and life, but you don't really understand. She leads you inside a building that looks like its about to fall apart, and into a small apartment that looks only slightly better. She motions for you to sit down on the couch as she goes to her cramped kitchen.

"I ain't got much here...but I guess you can try askin' and I'll see what I can do."
What would you like?
"Could I get some um...eggs?" As you ask she pulls a carton from a fridge much older then you are.

"Good, I thought you would ask for some fancy shit. Eggs though? I can do eggs. How do you want 'em?"

"Scrambled."

"Jeez...you really are a kid..." You feel a bit embarrassed by this, but Michele starts cooking without any further bullying.

"Now, lemme guess. You're...thirteen yeah? I got an eye for that kinda stuff." The sound and smells from the kitchen carry themselves with her words. "Pretty brave bein' out here that young. I mean, I left plenty of times when I was that age but I always came back...till I got another black eye or a shoutin' match. Then it was always back out, thinkin' I could make it on my own. Wasn't till I was sixteen when I finally left and never looked back."
A plate presents itself and...it actually looks amazing. It's just scrambled eggs and toast, but it just seems to be presented so nicely. You thank her and begin eating. Much better then the sardines. So so much better.

"Ain't goin' to lie. I'm gonna pass out and nothin' will wake me up for a couple hours. If you're gonna need anything else, ask now cause you won't get the chance later." She plops down in an armchair held together with duck-tape, shoes and bracelets falling heavily to the ground.

"Well...I had one more question but..." You pull out the box and present it, your face a flustered red. Michele laughs at you but soon enough she explains it and she doesn't hold back on her words.

"...and if it's uncomfortable that's normal. Got it?" You nod, trying to process all the information. "Good, cause I ain't goin' over it again. Bathrooms to the right." You get up and put to use what you just learnt. ..

When you come back, Michele is fast asleep on the chair, snoring and spread out. A blanket is on the couch for you, so you take a spot there. Despite her loudness, you are able to go to sleep soon.
You wake up disoriented and dizzy. It's still dark and it feels like you're wrapped up, like you're being held down...you can't seem to use your limbs the way you want to...oh god...what's going on...you feel like you're suffocating...you want to scream for help but you can't...not again not again not agai-

"Hey, snap outta it." You're pulled into a sitting position, the blanket that had been twisted around your body on the floor. Michele's hands are on your shoulders and she looks you over, a hand touching over the sides of your face and neck.

"Jeez, you were squirmin' so bad I thought somethin' had gotten a hold of ya. You're sweatin' and shakin' like crazy too...here hang on, I think I got somethin' to calm ya down." You struggle to catch your breath, your heart is beating so hard and fast it feels like it could just break out. Michele comes back with a small bag and sits down next to you.

"Now don't go blabbin' and tellin' anyone I did this but..." She scoops out a little pile of powder on her finger tip. "A little of this will calm ya down. Don't worry, it ain't cocaine or nothin'."
Do you accept or deny it?
You quickly shake your head.

"Scared huh? Don't worry, I was for my first time too..." As she says this, Michele sniffs up the powder. Her eyes shut tightly and her nose crinkles while a shiver floats through her body.

"It don't hurt too badly, but man that after taste. It's good to have a chaser. I know you said no for now but..." She gets up and looks around, finding an empty film roll canister. Carefully tapping some of the powder inside, she fixes the lid on firmly and hands it to you.

"Take it, ya got about...oh maybe three or four hits in there. If your nerves act up like that again...don't be scared to frost up. It'll calm ya down some." You utter a thanks and quickly hide it away into your belongings. Did...were you just given drugs? The phone on the end table rings and Michele goes to pick it up. You can hear a male's voice on the other end...but you can't quite make out what he's saying.

"What do ya want...uh uh I told you buddy...LAST chance...she was IN YOUR BED Tony! Uh huh...and how do you explain her bra on the ceiling fan then?..." You feel awkward and try not to make it seem like your listening. Michele is in the middle of shouting when it sounds like she gets cut off. Her annoyance is taken out on the receiver as she slams the phone down.

"Stupid asshole...tryna crawl back to me..." Her movements are guided with fury as she begins to get dressed. "I'm goin' to go knock his lights out...listen you stay put here, alright? These streets are dangerous even if you know what you're doin'. When I get back, I'll cook you somethin' up to eat. Just...watch the TV or somethin' till I get back." Before you can get a word in, she leaves.
While you wait for her, what do you do?
To help keep it from being too quiet, you decide to turn on the TV. Static fills most of the screen, and you have to mess with the antenna on the top before the picture is clear enough. You flip through, finding a news station. It would probably be good to know what kind of weather you might be facing in the future. You sit and watch through different reports, but most of them don't hold any kind of interest to you. As the lady on the screen talks you think about the canister in your bag. You pull it out and look at it. The black plastic keeps the contents hidden, but it's pretty chilling knowing there's a drug inside. You bury it deep within the contents of your bag. You decide to shower and clean yourself, careful to not move anything out of place in the bathroom. You notice a picture of a Michele and a man stuck between the mirror and the bezel. Is that her boyfriend?

You exit the bathroom just in time to see the temperature line up for the week. The next few days seem fine, but there's suppose to be a storm near the end of the week. Hopefully you're inside somewhere nice and warm when that happens. You mess with the channels again till you find a movie. It's a black and white western, not really your style but it looks like it's about to start and there doesn't seem to be much else on.

...

The movie ended about ten minutes ago, you enjoyed it more then you thought. It's been a while since Michele has left though, and you wonder where she might be when you hear loud knocking on the front door. The lock jiggles a bit too...you aren't too sure how well it might hold.
What do you do? You're on the fifth floor, and the only other room is the bathroom and a closet. You can also answer the door if you wish.
You're pretty sure Michele wouldn't do anything like this but to be sure you decide to look through the peephole. If its anyone else you're prepared to run back to the closet. You pull out your knife, holding it tightly in your hand. You sneak closer to the front door, standing on tip toes to peer through the tiny hole.

...

It's...a man. A big tall one...you can't even see his face. You back up quickly, heart beating even faster then before. You whip out the blade from it's compartment...you'll be fine as long as you can hide...it'll be okay it'll be okay it'll-

As you back up the door springs open and the man lumbers in. Your plans of escape leave your brain as you stare up at him. He has to duck through the arch way, his shoulders are broad and it's like he is pure muscle...

God what the hell are you going to do...

Surprisingly, his face reflects your shock. A strange silence hangs between you as he glances around the apartment. Seeing it empty he looks back down at you, then the knife. His hands move and you flinch.

He doesn't say a word but...you can't tell he's offering an apology of some sort. His hands up in a surrender and his head bowed, he reaches for the door and just...awkwardly...closes it. You once again find yourself alone. What...what just happened?

Your hands shake and you fall to your knees.
You're spooked pretty bad right now and have no idea when Michele is going to return. What do you do now?
You don't waste anytime in getting the door locked again. Going to the kitchen you drink water till your stomach hurts and find her bread, you scarf down a few pieces, nearly choking on the dryness. Taking some time, you start to finally calm down a bit.

You are alright, you're safe. Nothing bad has happened to you today. You were scared but...but its okay. It doesn't matter what nearly happened as long as you're okay now.

If Michele doesn't come back in two hours you'll leave her a note before going. You look at the clock on her stove...she has till 1:30. You go back to the couch, making sure you have everything packed...everything except for your knife. You keep that in hand. Damn...your headache is starting to come back...

The time ticks by , inching closer and closer to your departure. ...

It's 1:45 now...you can't wait any longer. You prepare to leave when the front door unlocks and swings open. Michele is there, stumbling in with a man around her arm...that guy from the photo...

"Oh Tonnny, I forgot to tell you!" Her voice is cheery and the words drawn out and slurred. "I got myself a bunny! Ain't she cuuute?" She giggles and you realize that she didn't come back the same way she left. The guy, Tony, looks you up and down.

"Sure she's cute, but not nearly as cute as you." His words come out the same...whatever they did it was as a pair.

"Hey...where do ya think you're goin'? You looked scared BunBun?" She giggles a bit, slamming the door behind her.
What do you tell her?
"A-a man c-c-came in..." You can't stop your voice from shaking. Your head hurts so bad now and there's a terrible knot in your stomach.

"Ain't the first time~" She laughs at this. "Wha' he look liiike?"

"He was h-u-g-e." You gesture with your hands. "R-really tall and really wide...not fat but j-just...he was huge. He had to du-duck to fit through the door."

Michele's eyes open wide at this, and while Tony is still snickering for no reason she looks serious.

"Wait wait...huge? Did he have ah what're they called..." She moves her hands in a motion to suggest sideburns and a beard. "All connected and like umm...peach fuzz! Oh wait, did he say anythin'?"

"You said you weren't bringing cuuustomers back here..." Tony must have finally snapped back t o paying attention.

"Shut it! It sounds like she's talkin' about my...listen Bunny I need to know if he said ANYTHING, don't matter if you remember what it was."

You shake your head 'no', ready to tell her that the man had been silent when a hand against her face knocks her to the ground.

"What the fuck? You said you wasn't bringin' them home and you said you wasn't fallin' in love with 'em!" The anger Tony is radiating is just...you've never seen it before.

"Go to hell pencil dick! Now you care what I do!" Michele gets up, picking up a plate and throwing it at him. The screaming escalates and you want to escape so badly...you try pushing through them but you are knocked flat on your ass and there's an intense pain coming from your cheek.

"You ain't goin' anywhere either!"

"Tont don't you DARE lay another hand on her! You leave her alone, she ain't done nothin' to you!" Michele picks you up as she yells this, and before he can say anything else you are shoved into the bathroom.

They shouting continues, the sound of breaking and things being thrown adding in to the commotion. You sit in the tub, hugging the bag to your chest. There's screaming...you can only cover your ears. Your mom and dad fought before but it never got violent. However the violence is replaced by a silence in only a  moment.
From your prior experience you know that men usually win these things. And if he's done with her...
You pull out your knife, holding it in front of you as you take steps back. You start to go over a plan in your head.

He'll probably come in here and try to grab you. All you need to do is thrust your knife forward and run past him. It can't be too hard...he'll be tired from the fight and on top of that he's not sober. You hear foot steps approach you and the knife shakes a bit in your hand.

No, you can't be scared. You will be okay, you won't lose this time. You will be the one to strike first, and you'll be okay. You're going to be the one to come out on top this time, no one will hurt you, you wi-

The door starts to open and instinct takes over. You rush forward and hold your knife steadily as you thrust. There's a lot more resistance then you thought there would be, you're only able to get the blade about half way in before you're pushed away. Blood covers your hands but you've done it, now you just need to run. You push your way past Michele and through the door.

Wait.

Wait...that wasn't the man...it's not his blood on your hands...

In the living room you see Tony laying on his back, his chest not moving. A necklace is wrapped around his neck, his face is slightly blue, and his eyes bugged. You stop and turn to look back, watching Michele slump over into the bathroom.
What have you just done?

"Michele?...Oh god...I'm sorry...I didn't...I didn't mean to..." You can only stammer as you drop your knife, rushing over to her. She has positioned herself in the bathtub, hand over her wound as it covers her fingers.
"Pfft...you think I can't handle this? I told you..that stuff's magically...I can't feel a thing." She smiles but there's pain in her eyes. "Honestly, you probably did me a favor anyways"

She pulls a pack of cigarettes out, lighting one in her mouth. She offers you one and you take it. You owe her so much right now. She lights hers quickly enough and hands you the lighter...you're shaking so badly though that she trades you cigarettes, giving you her already lit one. The smoke hurts your lungs but you try to push through it.

"Tony's dead, but you could probably already tell. I really did love him, believe it or not. The happy times were so great, but when stuff was rocky...I know it can't always be ups but it seems like lately I've been stuck on the ground, like a bird with a broken wing. I thought I could get myself back together at some point...become a chef like I always wanted to, stop screwing for money, start a family. But I guess not everyone can live the good life, ya know? Tony just couldn't keep his love to himself though but I guess it's my fault for selling mine..." She takes a long inhale of smoke, enjoying it before it fills the room.
"You don't know what I'm talkin' about, I'm just babblin' on at this point...fuck this is startin' to hurt. Listen, I ain't going to prison, I just can't do it. I'm sorry you got caught up in all this but, do me a favor then you can scram alright? There's a photo album, it's hidden under the couch. Get it for me, will ya Bunny? "

Keeping the cigarette between your lips you rush to find it, ignoring the body as best as you can. You find a thick and worn out book and run back to the bathroom...

Michele's eyes are open, but no one is home. You hurt her, but it's not enough to kill her right? As you come closer, you can see blood dripping from her nose, a bit of clumped powder with it. An empty bag is in her hands, the remnants of some more lingering inside.  Your lip quivers but you try to keep from crying. You take away the bag and replace it with the book, there's one photo sticking out. You give it a tug and hold a faded Polaroid picture...

You hear movement from upstairs and jolt a bit. You have to hurry out. You place the photo in your pocket and give one last look to Michele.

"Thank you and...I'm so sorry..." You exit the building with your bag as quickly as you can, trying to keep to yourself as police cars whir past you with their sirens blaring. The last of the ash from the cigarette falls, and you smash it underneath your heel.
It would be for the best if you got some distance away from the apartment. As you walk there's a smell you can't ignore though...you're going to have to get rid of it anyways...
Michele's blood on your hands is starting to dry, but it will be fine. You bring your hand to your mouth and begin to lick it away.

...

Her blood has a bitter taste, but you can't really be choosy. You lick up all you can, getting what's on your wrist and other hand. A pleasant buzz fills your head again and a warm feeling travels down your center. Despite the bitterness, a sweet after taste lingers on your tongue later.

You enter a store and wash your hands off properly. Making sure you're alone, you clean the knife off too. Your body just feels so nice right now, if only your thoughts were the same. It's such a strange conflict, but you can't focus on that. You need to keep moving, keep going on...

There's a bench up ahead with a bus schedule on it. The next one won't be there for another hour, but you decide you can at least try to figure out what to do. You're quite a bit away from the apartment now but you're still not in a good place. What to do...

A mother with two children comes and joins you on the bench. Soon more people shuffle in, awaiting the bus. An elderly couple, a group of three teenage girls, a group of boys a bit older then them who look like they just finished playing a game some where, a couple of men getting off of work...
It's the day time and it seems like there are enough...wholesome?...people here, maybe the bus isn't a bad idea for now. You wait with the rest of them till it rolls up minutes later, doors swinging open and people pushing in and out. It seems like there are a good number of kids and teens on board, most of them must be getting off from school.
School...

You rush to take a seat behind the mother. It doesn't seem to bad in here but...well you don't really want to take any chances. The bus lurches forward and starts to make its way. You relax a bit, you don't plan to get off for a while. You lean your face against the seat in front...you can hear the mother calming her small children. She sounds exhausted but her voice is just...so calm.

You close your eyes and just focus on it...

It reminds you a bit of when you were younger...much younger...before you even know what it was like to hurt...

Back when your grandmother was nice to you, which sounds hard to believe now. But way back, when you were small and your dad would bring you over for visits...

She loved how you looked so much like him. Your strong eyebrows, the gap in your front teeth, the bridge of your nose...grandma loved that her granddaughter looked just like her son. There was one day where she absolutely spoiled you too, neither of your parents were around for your birthday and you were just devastated. She ended up taking you to go see what ended up being your favorite movie...
What was that movie?
The Princess Bride had just came out recently when she took you. It was such a fun movie, you remember laughing so much at it the first time. When you would watch it later, you thought how amazing the rest of it was too. Your dad would reenact scenes with you constantly...any time the both of you had a drink you would switch them around and tell him in your big booming little girl voice that this was a test. You remember the one time where he said that he was immune to the poison, took a sip out of both drinks and fell over onto the table...only to spring back up and grab you when you checked on him. Your mother actually laughed at this too, one of the few times she ever did. And as you got older, you thought about how wonderful it would be to have your own Westley...someone to come and snatch you off your feet.
If only you had someone to rescue you now...but who would want to have you as their princess bride?

The bus comes to a stop, and to your dismay the mother escorts her and the children off. You're still not sure of your surroundings so you decide to stay on a bit longer...those girls that are a few years older then you are just a few seats up front anyways.

That buzzing in your head has dissipated, and for the first time in a long time you feel normal...well as close as you can get to that now. The bus starts it's travel once again and you remember the picture. You pull it out and your heart drops.

It's a younger Michele, probably when she was about 15. She's smiling and happy, next to her stands a boy a bit taller then her...it looks like he's trying to grow a beard but it's pretty pitiful. They look like they're related though. An older man and woman stand in the back...her parents? Probably, the woman has the same kind of hair as Michele. You slip the photo in your bag for now. Another stop and more people get on...someone sits in front of you but you take little notice. You just feel...just plain awful.

You look out the window for a bit, and the clouds keep the sun from pushing through. You can see your reflection easily...how pitiful you look. You focus on looking at the other people around. The elderly couple are a few seats behind...the boys too as they take up a couple rows...the man in front of your has a close cut beard-

It's the same man who broke into the apartment.
Oh no oh no no...no it'll be fine...it will be fine...you're behind him, he can't see you right now. You watch his reflection more...he seems out of it, there are bags under his eyes and his gaze focuses on the ground. Does he know what happened after he left?...

His eyes shift to the window and you turn away. There's no more movement from in front of you...probably didn't see you. Probably. Maybe he will get off at the next stop, then everything will be alright, watch he will get up and leave and it will all be okay.

...

Nope...the next stop comes and goes and yet he remains. The old couple has left...oh god who could you go to for help?...the boys in the back are a little ...well they act like boys their age, but they seem nice enough...maybe if push comes to shove...

You try to keep yourself as small and quiet as possible, trying not to jump at the slightest bit of movement from the man. You're not even sure if he would recognize you now...you're wearing your beanie and coat now. He didn't see those earlier, you're sure of it. You tuck your hair carefully into your beanie and make sure your knife is somewhere reachable. The bus is approaching a street you recognize, it would be best to leave now before you end up somewhere unknown again.

Alright, game plan. When the bus stops, you'll make sure the guy is staying on. You get up and walk out calmly, like an adult. If he gets off, well then you just stay and it's easy enough.

As the bus slows you take a few calming breaths. It's time. The bus stops and the doors swing open. You wait and it seems like he isn't moving...you can do this, it'l be okay.

You get up and start to leave, but fail to notice the boys had already started moving up front. They bump into you, too engrossed into their conversation to pay attention. The back of your heel is stepped on, and you begin to fall. You start to rethink your game plan in those short moments.

It'll be fine, you'll fall, pick yourself off, leave in total embarrassment, you'll be fine, everything is fine.

Before you hit the ground, someone grabs you, preventing your fall. You can hear the apologies of the boy behind you, and in instinct you turn to tell him its alright.

"Oh, thanks for th-..."

The person who grabbed you is the man, his huge hand still on your arm. Your speechless as he sets you back on your feet, letting you go and sitting back down. It's fine, everything is still fine, he can't tell it is you, he doesn't know what you sound like.

"Thank you." Your voice squeaks out the words, this time out of pure nervousness. He looks up and smiles like he is about to say something, but then his eyes shoot wide open. You notice your curly lock is poking out in front of your face.

Dammit.

You rush off the bus, luckily for you the boys are soon to follow. You run up a bit of the way and stop to catch your breath, looking back. It seems like a whole lot of people were leaving and entering, but not that man. The bus soon takes off, and you feel a sense of relief.

"Thank you, God." You start to walk down, but there's a loud screech and a car horn. You look back and it seems like the bus has made another sudden stop. The doors are thrown open and the man steps out.
You take a some careful steps back. Maybe he'll run the other direction, no need to draw attention to yourself. Just wait for him to go the other way, and run-
He looks over at you.

Running now is probably a good idea. You run down the streets, pushing past the few people walking. Glancing back, you can see he has taken chase but...

Lucky for you it seems you're the faster one. Sprinting seems to be something you do a lot lately, so you are prepa-

Alright, you trip but you're quick back to your feet. You're prepared to outrun him. You seem to be in an area of businesses, it's pretty busy. There seems to be a lot of clubs and similar establishments...

Wait this isn't right? Oh dammit, you should have gone the other way...you're lost again. It's too late to fix your mistake though. You keep your knife, shut, in your hand. Where to go where to...

You head in one direction but see a parked police car. Bad idea.

You turn and end up going behind the buildings. You're in the alley now, a long row of buildings in front of you. You start to catch your breath but...

You seem to have lost him, for now anyways.
You take the time to catch your breath, but you stay on guard. You peek around the corner and see no one coming your way.

What could he want with you? You pull the photo out of your bag and take a good look at it again. It's pretty faded but...is it the same guy? He had to know Michele some how, but was he close to her? You study the boy's face in the photo more, you can kind of make out a scar above his eyebrow. You haven't gotten a good look at the man's face, but you really hope that you don't need to.

Everything is strange...it's so strange...ugh...that feeling in your head again...

You start to walk down the alley, photo in your pocket and head in your hand. There's a gap between most buildings and you can hear the bustle and business from the street. Maybe he got lost out there? You certainly did...once you reach the end of the alley you head back out and find out where you are, maybe figure out what Spam is, man you hope it taste better then those sardi-

Your shoulder gets yanked and you're pulled back. You look up at the person.

That little scar is still there.

"Please, just leave me alone!" You shout as you try to push him away. Your foot comes up and kicks him hard in the shin, he loosens his grip enough for you to run away. You run back to the street. You search for somewhere to enter, that you can hide away from the man, somewhere smart, somewhere safe...you need to choose carefully.

The man comes out behind you and you make a beeline to the first building you can.

You enter inside a small grocery store, kind of a strange place for one but you aren't picky. There's a woman up at the cash register, a door behind her.
What do you do?
It would probably be best to hide in the restroom. You take a look around but don't see any other doors except for the one behind the register. That's weird...most places have one don't they?

You try to stay behind the shelves, pretending to look.

For a grocery store they don't have many cans and everything is just...really dusty too. Do they not get a lot of customers?...

The front bells jingles and your heart skips a beat. You take a peek a see another woman has entered. Instead of looking around she just goes straight to the back door...maybe she works here? Or maybe the other half of the building is their home.

You look around the shelf and through the glass door...people are passing by...and so does the man. You can tell he is just outside but it doesn't seem like he knew where you went. That doesn't mean he can't easily come inside though.

"Excuse me...ma'am?" You approach the woman at the counter. She doesn't look up from her magazine. "Um...I was wondering if you had a bathroom?"

"Not for customers." She won't even look at you.

"Oh well I uh...I really need to go..."
"Where's your parents? You shouldn't be out without them."

"It's just...just me..." She glances up as you say this, eyeing you up. Her eyes fall upon your bag, then your face.

"Oh I get it, you're just a little street rat, aren't ya? Or maybe a run away." She stands up, lighting a cigarette. Do you really look like it now? How embarrassing...

"Nah I get it though. You look like you could use some cleaning up...you want to use the bathroom in the back?"

You look back towards the door and see the man is still out there, his back to you...is he talking to people? Probably asking if they have seen you walk by...
Do you accept her offer?
"Oh um that's fine..."
"But you just asked to us it!" Her voice sounds...not angry but something similar. You suddenly feel...trapped. The man was chasing you but...honestly what would he have done? There were all those people around...you were probably over reacting right?

A weird smell begins to waft out from the room behind the woman as she approaches you. There is something not right here.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, I'm just going to leave now." You back away slowly but turn preparing to run. The woman wraps her arms around you and drags you back, your bag falling to the ground. You struggle but your arms are pinned down. You are pulled into the backroom as she starts to talk.

"Hey listen, the less you struggle the better it will be for you, alright?"

The woman from earlier approaches, holding some thing in her hand. She speaks in some language you don't understand...German? The two women converse for a bit before the lady walks up to you. She places something on the tip of her tongue and leans in close. A hand grabs the back of your head and you can't move away...

...

She slips something in your mouth...god it taste awful...you try to spit it out but it sticks to you.

"Listen, we needed a little entertainment for our guest tonight, and you seem to be a perfect stand in."

You are about to speak but...ugh...you feel weird...
You...damn...your head its swimming...

The girls carry you to a room and set you down on a bed. One leaves while another removes your coat, throwing it on your lap. You're sweating and your heart is beating but its not just fast...it's like...it's struggling to keep pace...

"Lets find you something better to wear, you look like a nun right now."

She starts to go through a box of clothes while the other lady returns with your bag. Plopping down next to you, she starts to rummage through your belongings.

"Nothing good in here...just clothes and a blanket...what this?"

Ms Buttons is pulled out...no don't pull her out...put her back where she is safe and where nothing can get her...put her back put her back

"You're on the streets but you still carry dolls? How sad." She looks over Ms Buttons before tossing her, and your bag, to the ground.

"Maybe if you had something good on you we could have let you go buuuut...you did loiter in the store a while. What's that saying here? Time is money?" The woman walks across the room, pulling out different items and setting them on the table. She ends up stepping on Ms Buttons a few time....no no poor Ms Buttons...

The women talk to each other again in their language and the one looking for your 'outfit' leaves. Your head is some how pounding in pain and numb at the same time...you're sweating so badly...the tips of your fingers and toes start to twitch a bit...

You move your hand towards the coat of your pocket...your knife is in your palm and the woman is facing away from you...
What do you do, Delilah?
"Let me go..."
"Hmm...I don't think so."

Your lip trembles a bit...but your hand does not. The blade pushed out, the handle gripped in clammy hand, your mind raced on thousands of things but focused on one.

You won't be the victim. Not any more. People have hurt you, taken advantage of you enough...these women think they can do the same? Do they think they could put you through worst pain then those men before? Then what your mother has done? As you think about it that feeling in your stomach, the knot of hate, rises up. Why? Why is it always you? Why do you always have to be the victim of everyone's selfishness? Does no one realize how bad you have been defeated? How much shame you have felt? No more...

It takes so much energy but you manage to stand, your coat falling to the ground.

"I recommend you don't move, you wanna save all your energy for the next hou-"

As she turns around, your knife grazes her arm.

"What...what the FUCK!" She is pushed back, but you also stumble. Your head is just a huge mess but you know what your goal is.

You'll leave this fight as the winner.

An elbow swings back against your face...god it hurts...you lunge at her again but the woman ends up moving away and you trip. You try to orient yourself but the knife is kicked from your hand and across the room, intense pain radiating from your wrist. The woman is looking at the cut, probably cursing in her language...

"You little shit...you won't leave here unless it's in a trash-bag...!"

You look up and your unfocused eyes spot a bottle...a nice big bottle of champagne. You get up, grabbing it tightly in your hands. The woman comes up from behind and you turn, swinging the bottle as hard as you can...

...

A few minutes later, she is on the ground, her face an absolute mess. That first swing broke her nose, and everything after that did what it needed to keep her down.

She's not getting up any time soon but you raise the bottle up above your head.

"I wont! Be! Your! TOY!" Every word earns another swing down, the glass bottle hitting her body now.

"I! AM! A! PER-!-SON!" With one last swing, the last of your anger escapes and you stare at your captor.

"...and I won't let no one hurt me any more..." You stare at what you have done...she's bad but...she probably won't die. Your anger has been replaced with something else though, something else just as awful...

Thirst.

You fall to your knees, leaning over her. You are about to go for her neck but...

Her arm will do. You bring her cut to your mouth, covering it fully as you let the warm blood flow in.

It taste like metal...awful rusted metal...

It's delicious. You never got the chance to fill yourself up like this...it's amazing. You drink till you feel like you may burst, and then you drink some more. When you're full you sit back and just...exist for a moment.
What's your course of action now?
You need to act. You need out of here. That other woman is somewhere out there still and who knows who else might be? Maybe you should run into her...they need to know that they can't just hurt people like that...it's wrong what they do is wrong they can't hurt anyone else not any more not again never ne-

...

Ms Buttons is laying on the ground, just a few feet away. Her gray color...it makes the drying drops of blood on her pop out even more. You pick yourself up, stumbling as you do and hold her in your hand.

It is silly...someone like you still relying on something like a doll...how childish...

...

You have never held her so tightly before.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." You whisper the same words over and over. A cough from the women breaks you away...she's not getting up though. You give Ms Buttons a kiss before placing her ever so carefully back in place before gathering your items. You place your knife back in your pocket and put your coat back on.

Your head has that lovely buzz again but...it's almost TOO good...

Swaying a bit, you decide to check to see if the woman has anything worth taking...nothing but some keys...damn.

That bottle might be useful late though...you wipe it off on the bed and place it with your stuff. You're ready to look around but as you take a step there's a moment of blackness...your limbs become all tingly and loose...you need to get out of here...

You grab your bag and open the door, peering over the edge. It seems clear...or is your vision that dark already? Oh no oh dammit...

You take careful steps, going down the hallway...which door was it?...you try one but its locked...no wait you came from the end of the hall...all the way at the end...it's so close but why does it feel like your steps take so long?...you're here finally oh good you just need to leave and find somewhere to sit...

"Hey, where are you going?" Your breath is quickening, its painful to breathe, you're so close. The sound of running comes to your ears...you open the door and take a step out...

Ah...the man is standing in the store over by the door...a rock and a hard place...you take a few more steps forward. Are you walking through cement?...it sure as hell feels like it...you're so sleepy...why can't they just let you sleep now?...

You make it past the counter and the man approaches you slowly. The knife gripped readily in your hand...you're ready to defend yourself...you will make it out of the store you wi-...who are you kidding...you can't even walk straight...

You stumble towards the man and look up at his uneasy expression, the words of the woman shouting behind you so distant...
What do you want to say before you pass out?
"Please help me."
After the words leave your vision fills with black and your body rushes to the ground. What ever happens...hopefully you can at least get some rest now.

...

You're sore...so terribly sore. Your body is aching all over...but your headache is gone. That buzzing and warm fuzz feeling is replacing that pain...this is nice...can you always feel like this?...it's great...

Your eyes open little bit...you can't see anything. It's just dark though...you aren't blind...right? The glimpse of light passes on the very edge of your vision, moving closer then away...so at least you're not blind. Probably. Another light passes the same way and you realize that it's not the light that is moving...

You are. Your eyes open a bit more...more lights pass...there's a gentle rocking...a bus...you recognize this as a bus. It's must be night time now...

You sit up and notice that there's something on around you. It's a dark brown coat...obviously not yours...where did it?... As you look up your body jumps. In the row across is the man...asleep and missing his coat...wait...wait that's right.

Help, you asked this man for help. You look at him more...he looks a mess. A row of scratches are scabbing over on his cheek, his shirt has a rip by the shoulder, a little bit of blood on the collar...and he's snoring. Just like Michele did.

You try to recollect your thoughts when the bus comes to a slow stop. Your bag is in the seat next to you and your coat is no where in sight.
What are you going to do?
You consider leaving at the stop, but as you start to get up...you look back at the man. The least you can do now is see why he had been chasing you down so much. One favor for him helping you...just one. You settle back down in the seat...you feel guilty about using his coat but you can see your breath, even inside the bus. Your mouth is dry in that weird way again...you pull out the juice box from your bag.
God...it tastes delicious. You savor it, making sure to get ever last bit. You shift a bit and a piece of lined paper falls from the coat. Picking it up, you make sure the man is sleeping still as you unfold it. You have to wait for the street lamps to pass by but you're able to make out the writing.

Please...wake me...up...when the...bus gets to...45th street...

This had to be for you, right? You look out but you're not sure where you are...45th street...that's by the place you were supposed to go to school right? You notice a woman is sitting in the seat behind. You turn and peer over the top of your seat.

"Excuse me, ma'am...do you know what that last stop was?..."

"Hm? Oh it was uhh...80th and Parkway."

80th? Oh jeez...you were really out of it for a while, weren't you? You crumple the note in your hand...maybe he won't be too mad...

You get up and stand in the isle, hand reaching out to shake his shoulder. You were running away from this man just a while ago and now you're waking him up...what have you gotten yourself into...

Your first tap is light...much to light to wake him. You do it again, harder. He shakes his head and you're worried you're going to have to do it again when he suddenly stretches his arms out wide, his mouth in a silent yawn. He scratches his cheek, flinches as he touches the scratches, and looks at you.

"Ah...we...um the bus..." As you speak the bus comes to another stop and a group from the back of the bus get up to leave. You jump out of their way, and right into the man's space.

"S-sorry...!" You back away as soon as you can, the bus feeling claustrophobic in that moment. "I mean...I'm also sorry that we um...we missed the stop...we're on...well now I think somewhere on 90th?..."

He jumps up as soon as the 9 leaves your lips. He begins to push you out of the bus in a hurry to leave.

"Ah w-wait my bag...!" You're near the front before you can get the words out. He rushes back and grabs it before...well...he picking you up and walking out of the bus.

"H-hey wait no, I can walk...I can walk now!..." He stops as you speak up once again and sets you down to your feet. You ground yourself and look up at this silent man.
What do you say or do?
"I uh...um..." You have so much you need to ask but no way to get it out as quickly as you want.
"Thank you for helping me, back in that store." You look down at your hands, twisting and intertwining with themselves as you speak.

"I'm sorry about running from you...I didn't know what you wanted and I was just...I have just been really scared recently...Those women though...they wanted something awful...if you hadn't shown up..."

You chew on your bottom lip a bit, waiting for an answer. Or, anything. This man hasn't said anything, from what you can tell. You look up at him and see that he is rummaging through his pockets. You stand there as he does, till he pulls out a small notebook and a pen.

"Wh-...what's your name? I'm-...Bunny." You don't give your real name, you still hold back some hesitation. You remember what Michele had said, about her mother...if you guess is right you don't want to make it any more awkward. He starts to scribble down on the paper, and in a moment presents it to you.

Hello, my name is Lawrence

You read it and look back at him, and he makes a motion at his throat with his hand.

"You...oh! You can't speak...right?" He nods as as you say this and writes another thing down.

Can we get somewhere warm, then I'll answer your questions?"Alright...if you promise to explain to me what Spam is when get there." He smiles a bit at this and offers his hand for a shake. You start to reach out to meet it, but you are once again how big he is...and how little you are.
"B-but...if you try anything..." Your other hand starts to reach for your knife but...your coat...that's right, where's your coat? As you begin to panic the man points to a pocket on the one around your shoulders...his. You push your hand in and...oh...is all your stuff in there? ...it feels like it except for...where's the knife?...

As you look forward you are greeted with handle of it in front of you. It's closed and seems like he's just handing it back to you. Quickly you snatch it up, but you do feel a bit bad at how eager you were for it.

"Well...I guess you understand then..." He presents his hand out, and you take it this time. A firm shake solidifies your promise. A year ago you would have pressured for it to have been a pinkie promise. The two of you begin walking and you see that he's carrying your bag for you...your kind of thankful actually. Your body just feels awful...yet your head still feels nice...though maybe not quite as good as before.

The street names pass by in silence but you really don't feel scared to walk them...you still hold your guard against the man...against Lawrence...but it's nice knowing that you have someone who can put up a fight with his bare hands.

You stop for a moment and lean a hand against a wall, your legs feel like they're going to give out. Lawrence stops and sees that you are behind, returning to your spot. He does his best to gesture his question to you.

"I'm just really sleepy...that's all..." You yawn as you speak...its freezing even with his coat. As you begin to mentally prepare yourself for walking again, Lawrence kneels down in front of you, offering his back. Normally you would reject it, you're not a child.

But you are tired as hell.

Soon you are going down the street on his back, swaying slightly with each of his steps. When was the last time someone carried you like this? Probably one of those days when your father was still alive.

Despite the chill you nearly fall asleep, closing your eyes and just enjoying the fact that you don't need to worry about anything for at least a little bit.

Lawrence comes to stop and you look up at the building in front of you. It's an old brick place, though it looks in desperate need of repair. There's a sign above it, the letters faded.

Good Hope Church and Community Center

This is one of the addresses on that note.
Good Hope. That was the name of the hospital your father worked at. He was a surgeon of some sort, you can't remember the exact name of his position. You remember for the longest time wanting to be a doctor too, just so you could help him save lives. Well that was until he brought home some photos of a gallbladder removal and you had to lay down for a moment. After that you didn't really think about work, especially after he died till one day in class you were doodling in your notes, drawing a brave prince ready to save his princess when a thought entered your head. You don't think you could really be an artist...but a writer? Maybe you could handle that. You could write about wonderful doctors saving lives, princes saving their princesses, and a journey to find where you really belong.
How funny...you wanted to be a doctor so badly all those years ago, yet you've killed someone. You aren't a good person, not anymore.

Before you can dwell on this Lawrence begins to walk up the steps to the door. You finally take notice of the black paint over it as you get closer.

Closed

"H-hey buddy...I don't think they'll like us trespassing..."

Heedless to your words, a key is pulled out from behind the sign that once held the hours for the place and the door is opened.

There's no lights coming from the ceiling, but there is a low glow in the place from several different lights. You're slid off his back and moved inside as he replaces the key and shuts the door, allowing you to take in the scene.

In what was probably a congregation hall originally, pews are pushed back to clear open the room and a patch work of blankets, sleeping bags, even a few tents are pitched up. Candles and some electrical lanterns provide enough sight to at least prevent someone from tripping. A corner seems dedicated as a makeshift kitchen; you can see a few pots and pans neatly stacked up next to a large wash basin. As for people, they looked scattered about. Some are sleeping, a group is playing or observing a chess game...they all seem to be occupying themselves quietly. There can't be more then fifteen in here.

Lawrence moves in front of you and starts walking, you follow closely behind. You make sure to take in your surroundings and a hand on your knife. He leads you to the kitchen area, pointing at an overturned paint bucket. You take a seat on it and he sets your bag next to you as he goes to gather some supplies.
In front of you he sets down a spatula, plate, fork...and a metal coffee can?..

He sits down across from you, starting to work. He sets fire to what looks like...lint? He places this in another smaller metal can and puts it inside the coffee can. Small holes lining the other end of the can start to allow some smoke out.

"Are we using this as a stove?"

He nods and points for your bag as he grabs the plate. Oh right, the Spam. You pull it out and hand it over. The meat that comes out...looks pretty...well...gross. One solid and pinkish piece. The spatula cuts off slices and they are places on top of the stove. A sizzle begins to buzz from them as he arranges a few slices around. Even you can tell it will take a bit for the can to heat up. He sets aside the plate and starts writing in his notebook again.

You ask some questions, then I get to ask mine.
"Okay okay um...lemme think..." You have a lot to ask but you need to figure out what to ask first. As you unscramble your thoughts the smell of the...pink stuff...starts to fill your nose.
"What is this place? It's not still a church is it? It looked rundown and closed from the outside and...well to be honest you guys look like squatters. N-no offense or anything..."

You wait for him to write his answer down for each question. He sometimes hands you the spatula and shows you how to flip the meat on the 'oven' and then how to make new slices.

[i]A lot of these places couldn't make it after funding was cut for them. The owner decided to let the building get some use out of it instead of letting it get turned into a liquor store. He's the short one playing chess over there. Some of these people have been here since the beginning, 5 years? I came here 2 years ago, on Christmas. I almost died that night.[/i] When you read the last line, your stomach tightens.

"Um...who are you? Wait that sounds weird...I mean." You stumble over your words a bit. "You scared me half to death when you came to the apartment...can you explain what that was about?"

[i]I've been looking for my sister. We use to live up North, but she ran away a long time ago. I found out where she was living a week ago and wanted to see her. [/i]

"But you were able to open the door?"

[i]She always leaves her spare underneath the door mat.[/i]

"Are you her...?"

He nods and finishes your question for you.

[i]Younger brother.[/i]

Regret and remorse wash over you like a wave.

"W-why were you chasing me?"

[i]I came back later when I made sure I was in the correct place. There were police cars everywhere. One of them told me something had happened inside.[i]

There's a pause between this and the next message.

[i]She died. It wasn't pretty, they wouldn't let me see the body.[/i]

The smell of burnt meat alerts you and you remove the remaining strips from the stove. When you look up, another note is handed to you.

[i]I want to know what you saw.[/i]
Oh no...oh no what if he blames you for it? Not that he would be wrong...but what if he gets angry?...

"M-Michele was letting me stay there for a bit...she went to go talk to Tony, her boyfriend, when you came in that first time. I didn't know her long but I don't think the two of them were in a good relationship. They came home and I think they were on something...I don't think it was alcohol though, it didn't smell like it. I told her that someone had came by and Tony...he got mad. Real mad. He thought she had another boyfriend or something...they began to fight and Michele pushed me into the bathroom so I didn't have to see it..." Now was the big moment of truth, for you to take back some of the awful things you did and tell the truth.

"...when I opened the door she already bleeding really awful." You struggle to continue, you filthy liar. "Tony was dead and...and she said she didn't want to ever go to prison. I don't think she could have left with her injury so she...she...sat in the tub and took a whole bunch of this weird powder...I was scared so I left..."

You can the misery etched on his face easily enough.

"I'm sorry about your sister..."

Lawrence takes a few moments, his head in his hand. You hear one deep and shaky breath leave him before he responds.

It's my fault, I should have came to her earlier or stayed then. Please don't blame yourself, her death is in my hands.

You never knew that a piece of paper could deliver such a punch. He hands you the plate of food and another message.

Go ahead and eat. I need to step outside and get some air. Feel free to talk to anyone, most of them are nice.

With that he got up and walked out through a backdoor. You look around, seeing who is here.

There are a few people awake. Three older men around the chess board. A small group of elderly ladies sitting in chairs around a lantern, working on knitting. Two women talking at their sleeping bags, but they seem to be in their early 20's. Everyone else looks asleep.
Oh god...he thinks its his fault his sister is dead. He blames himself and it's all because of you. You leap up and head to the door he went out of, you'll do the right thing, watch. You'll make it all better...well as good as you can, and everything will be alright. You open the door a little and peak out. It's dark, but you can see his form at the end of the alley. A glow comes from the end of a cigarette, and he leans against a wall. Alright, just go up to him and explain what happened, it will be fine, he's calm, you'll explain how it was an accident, show him the picture you saved, it'll be okay. He's taking it well so far-

Before you can move out, Lawrence takes a few steps toward the wall in front of him and punches his fist against it. Flinching, you can hear the impact from your position. He backs away and the cigarette glow turns to face you.

You're quick to go back inside and shut the door.

You are a murderer, a thief, a liar, and now also a coward.

How pathetic.

You walk back to the main area, you want to talk to someone about anything but...you feel like an outsider. You sit down in a spot not near anyone, feeling sorry for yourself. There's a new knot in your stomach, how did you end up in this position? Tears are starting to well up, oh no don't cry. Not now, don't do it...

"My my, is that a new face I see?" You look up and over to the direction of voice. The group of old women are near you, one of them looking up at you as she works her needles. She smiles with a grin as wrinkled as her eyes.
"Would you do me a favor, dearie? I need a new skein but it's over by my bags over there. Will you go grab it for me? Any color is fine." She points over to a section of sleeping bags. You get up and look, finding a bag full of yarn. You pull one out and bring it over. You can see that the four women are all working on something, one of them is even sewing something. You hand the woman her yarn and watch as she integrates it into her work.

"Thank you, this is a blanket for Claire, she's going to have a baby any day now, isn't that exciting?" You nod as you watch her work. Her long fingers are thin and bony and she weaves the thread in a wonderful way.

"Do you know how to knit?"

"No, ma'am. I know how to sew a bit though."

"Would you like to learn? I have an extra pair of needles you can use."


"Sure...it's not hard, is it?"  You take a seat next to her, taking a bright blue pair of knitting needles that she hands to you.

"No no, but it will give you something to do for a few days. " A skein of chunky purple yarn is handed to you. "Is there anything you want to try first?"

"Um...a hat? Like, a little one?' At least this way, if it's ugly, you can give it to Ms Buttons and no one will know of your shameful creation.

"Knitting in the round will be a bit tough in the beginning, but it's easy once you get the hang of it. Here, let's get you started..."

For the next hour and a half the ladies show you how to knit. You fumble and mess up a bunch, but you start to get the hang of it, enough to do it on your own anyways. They start to pack up, ready to head to bed.

"Say...did Lawrence ever come back in? I know he left through the back. He usually doesn't stay out this long for a smoke break...would you go check on him? Just see if he is still in the alley?" You nod and thank them for their time. The area has gotten darker has more of the lights are turned off. You head back out to the door, preparing yourself before stepping out. You look up and down the alley carefully...where is he? You take a few steps down the direction her was in earlier...

Oh

Next to the dumpster and on a step, Lawrence is sitting, his head hanging in his hands. Cigarette butts litter the ground around him, and another one falls from his mouth, smoldering as it dies. He pulls another one out, places it in his mouth, ready to light it...and just covers his eyes with his hands as a shudder wracks his body. Slowly you approach him till you are in front of him. He doesn't move at your presence, and you can see his shoulders are heaving.
There is so much you want to do right now, yet you're scared to do any of it. So many things you want to say, and you're not sure which is the right one to say first.
So you decide not to say anything at all.

You take a seat next to him, keeping your face forward but looking over at him with your eyes. His face buried in his hands, it reminds you of a child. Like you, when you were younger.

You hated letting anyone see you cry, especially your father. You would always hide your face away, even though it was always much more obvious that you were in tears. Your dad wouldn't say anything during this time, no prying or asking what was wrong. He knew that would just make you cry harder, so he did the one thing that would make you feel like everything would be okay.

Your arms can't quite do it, but you wrap them around Lawrence's frame the best you can. Your father always enveloped you close, but this is is the best you can do. You keep this way for a bit, you have no idea if it's working, Lawrence isn't moving. You feel his shoulders start to shake more when you decide to let go. He finally looks up at you, and just as you thought there are tears streaming down his face.

But there is also a smile.

He wipes his face and takes out his lighter, setting the end of the cigarette into a slow burn. You notice his hand is bright red, bloodied and bruised at the knuckles, and most importantly fresh.

You both just face forward, the smoke from the end of his cigarette wafting up.

"I've...I've done something to hurt you..." You break the silence.
How do you continue this?
You were calm when you first spoke, but as the silence continues your heart beat increases. You wait for an answer but remember that right now, it's only you doing the talking. For some reason, that makes it feel much more stressful.

"I...I've been hurt. A lot." You start to stall for your answer. "People around me...they keep hurting me...even my...my own mother hurt me..." You keep your eyes focused on the ground. Your head is starting to spin.

"She hurt me in a way that I don't think I will ever, ever forgive her. That's why I'm out here...I didn't want to be hurt again. B-but..."

Your heart is beating so hard, you feel suffocating. You fumble with the picture in your pocket and hand it to him.

"But even away from her I keep get-...getting hurt. I get hurt so badly and then I have these feelings inside of me...they're awful...disgusting feelings..." Your hand comes up and starts scratching at your neck again, you can't help it.

"And then I've...I've acted on these feelings...I've done bad things too...I'm just so scared...I can't trust people because they end up hurting me...but I'm so scared being out here alone too...I k-keep making bad choices...and then I end up getting in more trouble."

Your chest is heaving hard and you try to focus on something to look at, darting your eyes around, you need to look at anything, anything that isn't him.

"I've become a bad person. I m-made you help me in the store...you got messed up from it...and all because I was too scared to f-face you..."

Even outside you feel like the world is closing in on you, like it is going to swallow you whole.

"A-and all because you wanted to know about your sister..of course you just wanted to know what would happen...and I ran...you must have been so angry and e-even after you helped me I...I lied to you...I hurt Michele...i-it's all my fault...my fault..."

You trembling so badly, struggling to catch your breath. Your nails are ripping into your skin, long angry marks left behind from your nail.

"E-e-everything is my fault it's always my fault why did this happen to me why why whywhywhy-"

You want to scream, collapse on the ground, close your eyes and never get up again. The words are tumbling out of your mouth at such a fast rate, slurring and running together and then breaking apart the next.

"My...it was m-my knife...oh god....Michele....Michele is d-dead...and its all m-my faauulltt...!"

Your hand gets pulled away from your neck and you're turned to face him...the man who's sister you have killed. The man you have ran away from then forced to rescue you. The man you lied to after he's helped you. In the low light you can just make out the words he mouths slowly.

Are-you-afraid-of-me?
"No...I'm not scared of you. I think the thing I'm scared of most...is myself." Your breathing starts to return back to you, but you have to remember to keep your voice steady.
"I always hoped that I could be a person who would always do the right thing, even when I'm hurt. I...I promised myself that I would pick myself up and continue going. That I would survive. But I didn't realize what that really meant..."

You're aware of the feeling of desire rising inside of you again. You can smell the small amount of blood on his hand...god it smells wonderful. You are disgusted with yourself.

"I've...I've done terrible things and held on to even more terrible feelings. But at least...at least the things are normal. Awful but...I know other people do them. It's anger and vengeance. It's terrible but I can't get rid of them, so I try to stuff them deep down inside. But there's this other feeling I have...this [i]need[/i]. It's disgusting...like an animal or something...but I keep giving in to it. It makes me feel amazing when I do, and I hate myself for it. Even right now...it's like I need to do it..."

You can't stop yourself, your hand reaches out and graze over his knuckles. Specks of red stick to your finger tips as you bring them back to your lips.

"Lawrence."

You lick the color off and look back up at him, your face focused.

"I'm a..." You never said these words out loud and just as you're ready to say them your steadiness breaks. You're scared.

"I'm a monster." Your voice is hardly above a whisper as you say this, breaking and cracking with each word. You won't cry though, you need to accept this. These next words barely rise out of your mouth.

"Are you afraid of me? Do you hate me?"

Your vision is hazy as you look at him for an answer. Your eyes burn but you need to keep those tears back for once.

Lawrence looks as if he is processing everything, but before he can give an answer a voice from the door stops him.

"You out here still? That girl with you?" It's a woman's voice. He picks himself off, ashing the cigarette before going to her. You follow behind and reenter the building.

"It's about to be lights out, and we're locking everything up for the night. Can you give us a hand?" He nods in acknowledgement, pointing over to the sleeping area. You assume that's for you. Only the people still moving about have lights on, and you notice that the door you came through is unlocked still.
It would be best to at least stay the night. You can get a night's rest here and not worry about keeping one eye open. In the morning you can thank them for their hospitality and leave, you don't even have to face Lawrence again. He probably things you're a freak.
...

His blood had such a nice sweetness to it though.

God...you are a freak.

You walk over to find your place to rest. From what you can tell, a majority of the people are older, like your grandmother's age. You find a free spot eventually, a place that doesn't look occupied. There's a girl next to you as you lay down your blanket. She's about four years older then you. You almost miss it but there also looks to be three small children crowded around her also asleep. Is she taking care of them?

You use your bag as a pillow and lay down.The cooked Spam is in your bag, wrapped up in foil for later. You wish you had your coat, when you were cooking you gave Lawrence's back to him and you feel cold.

You feel out of place here, this isn't your community...you shouldn't be here. You curl yourself up in a ball, the smaller you can be the better. The less of an inconvenience you can be, the more insignificant...you've already been a burden.

Despite these terrible thoughts in your head you manage to fall asleep.

...

When you wake up, it's dark. No one else is up and you can't fall back asleep. You turn, maybe you need to be more comfortable...there's something on you.

It's his stupid coat again.

Sitting up, you look around. Your eyes adjust to the dark enough, you can see the doors and the bodies sleeping around you.
It would be pretty scummy of you to get up and leave without saying anything, even if it is awkward. Even if he doesn't want to hear anything else from you, at least you can say that you tried to make things up.

Your grasping at straws at this point, but desperation is nothing new to you now.

You lay back down, it would be best not to be the first person up. You're mind is restless, but counting down from one hundred helps to settle you enough to go back to rest.

When you wake up, it's much brighter. Windows from high up on the wall let in the winter  light from outside. There's movement and noise all around, it seems that most of the people are up now. You get up and walk around a bit. You look all over, but you don't see Lawrence.  You stop and contemplate what to do when children run past your legs, nearly knocking you over. They are fairly young, it looks like they are playing tag or similar. The girl you saw sleeping last night chases after them.

"Joey I told you to be careful! I'm sorry about that..." She offers you an apology and lights up when she sees you.

"Oh, are you that new girl? The one that came in really late last night?" She sounds cheerful, like you aren't all a bunch of homeless people living together.

"Yes, that's me."

"I'm Jessica, it's been a while since I've seen a girl anywhere near my age around here. You came in with Lawrence, I remember that. Sorry I didn't greet you...I have my hands full a lot." She seems a bit ruffled, but as you watch the children zipping around you can understand.

"Do you know where he is? I can't find him anywhere."

"Oh he's probably out. Usually is at this time. Him and some of the other guys usually go out to work any job they can find. Tonight we're planning this big stew, Mable and Aria found this huge box full of a bunch of vegetables last night. Oh, they're those two over there, I think they're in their twenties? A bit older then us...anyways! They found those vegetables so we wanted to make a nice dinner for the group tonight! It's a shame we don't have any meat right now, but anything warm is fine with me." Jessica has a shocked look on her face as she remembers her responsibility.

"Oh shoot the kids...I gotta make sure they don't bother anybody! Umm..feel free to offer anyone a hand! I'm sure they won't mind!" She adds this as she rushes off to wrangle the kids. You look around to see what is being done.

There's the kitchen, obviously. It looks like some basins are being gathered in another spot...is that a washboard? Maybe they are washing stuff. You see the older women back in their spots again, working on their projects.
You decide to go over to the people with the basins. It's two middle aged women and an older man...he looks like he's missing a leg. A girl just a bit younger then you is pushing one of the basins close to him. She looks up at you and quickly hides away behind him.

"Um...hi there. Can I help?"
"Oh, hello. You are new, right?" One of the women speak up, she sounds foreign. "We could use a hand, actually. If you could bring those tea pots over, that would be nice. Careful, they're full of water it's uh...oh! Hot, boiling."

You go over and carefully bring over each one. The water is poured into the basins, each one being filled up half way. While you do this you talk with the people. The foreign lady is Sita, the other one Lara. The old man is Sam, you learn he is a war veteran. The girl is his granddaughter, Marilyn. They ask about you and how you got here. You give them a brief answer, leaving out most of the more...unsavory...details. They give their condolence to your situation and offer you a welcome.

It takes an hour, but the water is soon ready.

"Oh, you don't need to help us here. We only have so many washboards." Lara starts to pour some soap inside as Marilyn brings over clothing to her. "You can probably give someone else a hand now. Thank you so much though. If you want, bring your clothes over here and we'll wash them for you. Don't worry, we keep them separated, you'll get them back."

Your clothes have been getting dirty lately, so you agree. You leave just the clothes at the group and look around, trying to figure out what to do. You are called over to the old ladies from last night again.

"Oh, hello dearie. Listen, would you do us a favor? Stick out your hand."

You do, and a wrinkled hand leaves you a folded note...it feels heavy.

"We know that everyone is looking forward to the soup tonight, but what good is it without any meat? Of course, that's so expensive now days...a ham bone on the other hand, that's just enough to give it that needed  flavor. Do you mind going out and finding one? I'm sure someone will be glad to go with you."
"Yes, of course I'll go!"

"Oh good, there's a butcher shop a few blocks away. If you're lucky the young man is working today, he's awfully sweet."

You pocket the note and look around for someone to take. You see that Sam and Marilyn have moved to a different spot, a big book and a notebook in her lap. You approach them and see that it's a textbook. Sam looks up and greets you.

"I hope I'm not interrupting..."

"Oh no no, Lyn here is just practicing her math. What do you need?"

"I know this might be a little inconvenient but I'm supposed to go out and look for something for the soup. A ham bone. But I don't know this area well and I'm a bit...well I'm a bit scared to go alone. Can you come with me?"

"As long as you don't mind my granddaughter tagging along."

"Of course not."

"Well alright then! Some exercise will do us good. It's suppose to get really awful later this week, we might have a blizzard even! Lyn sweetie, get our coats will you? Oh, you should put one on too Delilah. You don't want to get sick."

You almost say that you don't have one, but then you remember Lawrence's coat is still here.

"Let me go grab it..." You go and put it on. Hopefully he's warm enough without it. As you walk back over an older lady walks over to you with her cane, a blue scarf in her hands.

"Here, take this. I just finished it, we don't need you catching a cold."

You take the scarf and unfold it. Intricate designs run up and down the edge...it's lovely.

"Thank you..."

"Just let us know if you ever need anything."

You wrap it around as you come back to Sam and Marilyn. She hands him a crutch and he leads you out the door. Surprisingly he's brisk as your group walks down the street. He holds Marilyn's hand in his freehand and tells you that the shop is a few blocks away, it'll probably take an hour to go and come back.
As you walk, you decide to ask Sam a few questions.

"If...you don't mind me asking, what happened to your leg?"

"That? Pfft, it was just holding me back." He laughs a bit at this, Marilyn has an annoyed look on her face.

"Pappy, you always say that. It's not a very funny joke..."

"Aw, now the girl doesn't think I'm funny any more! That fine. But to answer your question, that war I mentioned earlier. I was actually heading back with my troop, in this little jeep buggy. I fell asleep and wouldn't you know...we hit a bump and I go flying out the back! Knocked me out, and the worst part? Those bastards didn't come back for me! So I wake up bout an hour later, course I don't know where I am. I start wandering around and I come across this village, poor folk. That's where I lost my leg."

"They cut it off?!"

"What? Oh no. They shared their alcohol with me and trying to impress this gorgeous gal I was doing a trick with my pistol. Course I forgot the safety was off and I shot myself in the leg! It hurt like hell, let me tell you what. Worst part is, my leg was probably fine but I was a medic so I told them, 'no no the leg must go! Doctor knows best!'. Half a bottle of whisky and an hour later and that thing was gone. Didn't impress the girl either. Though the lady who helped make sure I didn't try to amputate the wrong leg was awfully nice. Ended up marrying her a few days later. Took a bit of paper work, but then I had enough connections to bring us both back here."

He pauses a bit here.

"Ya know, my buddies were good guys. They probably weren't sober enough to know I fell out. I met up with them later to find out how our welcome was...it...well it wasn't the best. Funny how people called us monsters when we were the ones forced to fight."

You can see his face take on a shade of sorrow.

"Lot of good men were lost...but hey, at least we didn't fight the next war. You know, that's the one that sent this country spiraling down the drain! They come home to a hero's welcome, but at least when we came back there weren't any bread lines! Use to be that people could get to at least middle class easily but now...you either have money or you don't, simple as that. There sure as hell wasn't as much crime on the streets neither. But when people are desperate...well I guess that's when the worst comes out in them."

"Yeah...it's awful...I'm sorry about asking that so soon." You can't help but add this in.

"Grandpa loves telling his war stories! I've heard them a million times already and he won't stop!" Marilyn pipes up, her attitude undeterred by the subject matter.

"And I'll tell ya a million more times! You can't stop me!" Sam teases Marilyn, scuffing up her hair. She's upset, but not actually. It's just playful teasing. What a nice change.
"Um...I hope this isn't too personal..."
"Shoot."
"How...how did you and Marilyn end up here? I mean...I'm surprised to see so many younger people there too."
"Like I said, you either got money or you don't. There was a big collapse, probably when you were just a little baby. A lot of people lost their homes and businesses. I lost my wife to sickness before that, but Lyn's parents are off working in a factory. They send money when they can, but her father earned a huge debt that they're working to pay off. Till then, I'm taking care of her. She's gonna be a tough one when they return!"

"No I won't." Her lip pouts as she says this, and they start to bicker. It's actually...pretty cute. You decide to take out the note. As you figured, there's some money and change in there...all together $7.50

You notice that the paper has writing inside it and take a look.

Please stay safe today At the bottom, a little bunny face was doodled.

...

"Hey...Sam. Can I ask you about Lawrence?"

"Well I can tell you what I know, probably."

"He told me he came here two years ago, on Christmas. He also said he should have died that night...and his voice, what's wrong with it."

Sam scratches his chin a bit and spots a bench.

"I'll answer those questions if you give me a moment to rest my crutch arm."

You agree and the three of you take a spot.

"Now lesse...Lawrence. We started living there a little before that, so I remember that night. Someone was going out cause he was working that night um...John. He walks out the front instead of the back that night cause the snow is piled too high. He opens the door and on the stoop is this man just passed out! Took two of us to drag him inside. He's not dressed for the weather and he's nearly frozen to death. You could smell the liquor on him from across the room! Poor boy thought it would be best to drink himself to death, and on Christmas eve! Well we did our best to help him, I usually do the patch work around here. Luckily for him he just needed some warmth and a couple of aspirins for his hangover the next day. Since then he's been helping around a bunch. I remember him saying he's not from here and that he had been in the city for a few months prior to that. I think he was looking for someone. As for his voice...well I don't know. That was long gone before he arrived."

"I see...thank you."

"Pappy we need to get going! It's cold!" Marilyn is obviously bored.

"You're right, the sooner we get back the sooner we get that homework of yours done."

You get to the butcher shop eventually. As you figured, there's not meat you could buy with the change you have that could feed everyone. Your money is back in your bag too,or you would have bought some. You end up with a few ham bones and make your way back. Sam teases Marilyn on the way back for most of the trip, and you can't help but enjoy the show.

When you return you thank Sam for escorting you and take the bones to a man in the kitchen. He introduces himself as John and takes them from you, putting them in a large pot of water.
There's less activity going on,. What do you do now?
You take a quick look around, but it doesn't seem like Lawrence is back yet. You take a moment to sit down and just take everything in. You don't feel like you have to worry about the people here, not yet anyways. It's honestly a nice feeling. After it was just you and mother it was walking on eggshells then.
Mother....

You feel...not quite homesick but something similar. You're still beyond upset at her but...it's such a strange mix.

"Um...Delilah?" You look up and see Jessica, she's holding a newspaper.

"Oh hi, what's up?"

"I didn't show anyone yet but...this was in yesterday's paper." Jessica opens to the second page and hands it to you. There in black and white is a picture of you.

Well, it's a picture of you from two years ago when your hair was much longer, but it's still you. Missing is written in big letters and some information is underneath. You skim what is written.

...

Your mother is offering up a reward for your return.

[b]$25,000[/b]

"I was using the other pages for fuel for the stove but...listen this is important." Jessica bends down and whispers to you.

"I won't say nothing of course but I can't speak for everyone. I don't think most of them will do anything but with that reward money...well I know not everyone enjoys this life. You must have ran away for a reason, and cause your still a minor they can force you to go back. But if you don't mention it and you're spotted on the street, no one will realize that they need to help you escape. Do you think you should tell anyone?"

"Oh jeez..." You quickly close the paper, crumbling it in your hands.

"Thank you for telling me...dammit..."

"Here, I'll go burn it if you want. I don't think I saw it in any of the older papers, I think this is the first print of it. I usually go gather the papers with the kids anyways...I'll make sure we keep those out." Jessica takes the paper from you, putting it under her arm.

"Thank you so much. I can't go back to her."
"I understand. If you want, if I hear anyone else mentioning it then I'll let you know right away, okay?"

"You don't know how much that means to me..."

As she turns to go back to her duty, she smiles.

"It's alright, girls like us on the street? We got to stick together you know." She rushes off, and you watch as she uses the paper for fuel in one of the stoves.

You look around at the people here. Who knows who you can trust now? Jessica seems fine...and you don't think Sam would turn you in either but...what about the others? Is it going to be eggshells all over again...

What should you do? You feel so lost again but now... You start to scratch at your neck again...that headache is coming back...already? You had so much last time, how are you going to find more? And now with...with a bounty on your head? Why? Everything seemed like it was going to be okay, is everything crumbling around you again? Oh no...oh no oh no oh no oh n-

A warm hand on your shoulder pulls your out of your train wreck of thought and you look back.


"L-Lawrence!"
"Um...um...what's up?" You say this with a forced grin on your face.

Wow...you're kinda lame sometimes, you know that?

"I m-mean, hello!" You start to stand but he hands you a bowl and spoon. Warm soup is inside, the delicious smell drifting out.

"I didn't even know this was ready, thank you." Your voice is cheery but...it's a farce. You're nervous to know what he's thinking. Your heart quickens as you see him pull out the note book, writing a few words. Oh jeez what is he going to say-

A loud pop interrupts you and everyone around you. All eyes turn to see what caused it. Over by the kitchen area one of Jessica's children stands by the generator, an empty glass in her hand and smoke coming from the now wet machine.

"Oh dammit....Lawrence come give me a hand will ya?" A man shouts over there and you are given a 'wait a moment' gesture before Lawrence runs off. He stuffed his notebook in his back pocket...but not deep enough. It falls to the ground a few feet away.

You pick it up, and look up at the accident. It doesn't seem serious but...they will probably be working towards fixing it for a while, and the note he wrote is still in there.
You want to look inside but...
That would be wrong. It would be invading his privacy. You owe him some sort of respect at this point. You slip the notebook into your pocket, deep and firmly. Instead you focus on the stew.

It's warm and delicious, that special taste of home made. As you eat you watch them trying to fix the generator...and Jessica scolding the little girl. She's trying to look so mature but...she just naturally has one of those faces that always looks non-menacing.

Does she really have your back? It's weird to think that someone is willing to do something for you without asking anything in return. What if she wants to keep the reward for herself? Would she double cross you like that? As you look up from your meal your greeted with Jessica's face right in front of yours. You jump back, nearly knocking off your bowl.

"J-Jesus!"

"Ah! I'm sorry!" Jessica backs up and offers an apologetic smile. "You just looked really deep in thought or something...I was trying to figure out what someone like you would be thinking about."

"It was nothing...do you think they'll be able to fix that?" You nod over to where they're working, the guts of the machine laid out on the ground.

"Well...a certain someone better hope so." Jessica throws shade at the girl standing by her side, who is doing her best to look away.

"But honestly, that thing was old 20 years ago...it was bound to give out sooner or later. If they can't get it working then we're going to have to find a new one. We use that to warm up the building when it's freezing outside." Jessica and the kids take a seat around you, their own food in hand. "That storm is supposed to be moving in any day now too...it's suppose to be a big one! The other places that got it are already covered with snow...apparently they aren't letting people leave the city till it passes."

"Wait...what?" You had toyed with the idea of possibly leaving the area, at least till your missing poster wasn't around any more.

"Yeah, a lot of the roads are covered. There was a bunch of accidents, so they decided it would better to shut them down till they cleared up enough. Scary, isn't it?"

"It sure it..." You are more scared by the fact that for now, you are stuck here.

You talk a bit more with Jessica...well it was more like you listened while she talked. Not that you mind really. Your dinners are finished soon enough and Jessica leaps up.

"Well I need to get these guys ready for bed now. I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright?" She doesn't wait for an answer as she escorts her group away.

"Yeah...alright." Your words fall on no one. If no one hears them, does that still make it a lie?

Your headache is slowly starting to strengthen, you hold your head in your hands. Even the low lights are hurting your eyes. You close them and enjoy just a moment of not thinking about anything. Steps in front of you break you out of your trance and you see Lawrence returning, wiping grease off his hands with a rag. He reaches for the book but of course...
"Here. You dropped this." You hold it out for him. "I didn't look or nothing."
He takes it, flipping through the pages to find his spot, but seems to give up and start a new page.

I really need a smoke break, do you want to come with me outside?
You nod and follow him to the alley. You try to keep from looking 'suspicious' but you can't keep your eyes up at him. As usual you keep them towards the ground. If you're not careful, your neck will stay bent that way...

You both lean against the building as Lawrence takes his time enjoying the nicotine. What brand you wonder...he didn't do it often but your father would occasionally smoke. His were much thicker and had a different scent to them...maybe they were cigars actually?

Lawrence pulls out his notebook and begins scribbling down inside. What was he originally going to write earlier? Maybe you should have taken a peek...

Alright, let's make a deal. You can ask three questions and I'll answer them. Then I get to ask three questions, and you answer. But no matter what, 100% honesty, agreed?

You nod as your eyes scan to the bottom.

"Yeah...sure."

You don't feel like he's going to lie to you but...what about you? Are you? Can you tell the truth...

You first.
You don't have many questions yourself but you know he probably does. Limiting it to three was probably difficult for him. Taking a moment, you think about each one carefully.

"Okay but remember, you promised the whole truth. First...what happened to your voice? You're not deaf, so why can't you speak? Um...if you don't mind me asking..." You add that last part in, feeling guilty for being so straight forward.

Michele never made good choices when it came to boyfriends. She came home one night crying cause of something her current one did. I was stupid and tried to confront him alone. Him and his friends beat me pretty bad, a glass broke in the heat of it and one of them thought he was going to be a big bad ass. I was in the hospital for a long time after that. He pulls down his collar enough to flash his neck. It's faint, but you can see the healed remnants of scarring. Thinking about how that would feel with the glass...you can't help but to flinch.

I can actually talk a little bit, but it doesn't sound too pretty and I can't talk above a whisper. Smoking doesn't really help either, but... He shrugs as you read the next part, ending it with an exhale of smoke.

"Um..." You quickly try to switch to the next topic. You're not sure how to respond to all that. "Is...is there anyone here I should be careful of? I mean like...would anyone try to turn me into the police for any reason?"

He thinks about this one for a bit before responding.

For the most part, you can trust everyone here. We've kicked out people who we felt weren't safe, especially with the kids around.

As you read this he seems to remember something and hastily adds.

But if you mean if there was something in it for them, watch out for Roger. He isn't really a bad guy to say but...he really hates being homeless. Especially after being at the top for so long, as he says. I'm not sure how much money it would take for him to turn someone in though.

Roger...you remember having him pointed out by Jessica earlier when she was talking during lunch.

Last question, and there's really only one question you have left.

"Lawrence...you hate me, don't you?"

Your eyes remained focused straight in front of you, your eyes burning as they look at your hands in your lap. Lawrence finishes his smoke and hands you his response.

Let me ask my questions first, then I'll tell you.

You can't object to it, you're a little scared to talk at this moment as you listen to the sound of pen on paper. You are then handed your three questions.

Why did you run away from home?

Why do you say you're a monster?

Are you planning to stay?
[i]Why did you run away from home?[/i]
"Terrible things were done to me at home." Your voice is low, but you continue without hesitation.

"Just me and mom...we moved here just a while ago. I was sick right after that though and all I could do is sleep. But one day, I woke up and I didn't need to sleep any more...and on that night..." You trail off, memories from then flashing by.

"My mother sold me to a man that night. I don't think it was the first time either." Your voice is low but steady, and its as if you are saying this out loud to finally confirm it yourself.  "She didn't love me the way she was supposed to, and I wasn't going to let that keep happening. "

There's a long pause before you are given the next question.

[i]Why do you say you're a monster?[/i]

"Even though they did bad things to me, I hurt most of those people back. I couldn't be the bigger person. There was so much hate that I never felt before, and I let it take control of my actions."

There's a new sadness to your voice as you continue.

"And with that hate I found this weird 'craving', something that I didn't have before all this. I let it control me a few times too, and it feels good when I do. My head and body just feels so amazing when I do it...when I let myself drink blood." You whisper this last part, as if you still wished to keep it to yourself. Your processing everything you have said so far, and you come to realize how truly fucked up it is.

[i]Are you planning to stay?[/i]

"I hate running...but I also don't want to be a burden. I've done a lot of bad already...I don't want to do anymore. .."

Your head...it just hurts so much now...you scratch at your head in frustration.

"I'm so scared of the future...I mean I'm also scared now...I'm terrified by so much but I think I scare myself the most right now..."

The familiar sound of pen scratching on paper.

[b][i]What do you need right now?[/i][/b]

"A lot...I need so much...but right now?"

You squeeze your body together, you want to be as small as possible right now. You want to not hurt anymore. You want everything that has been taken away from you. You want to feed. You want so many things but there's only the words to ask for one thing.

"I think...I just need someone to tell me that I'll be okay...even if I really won't be."

Your cry for help is more of a whimper.

You just want help so badly. Your desperate for any kindness that will be given to you. Anything to even give you the false allusion of comfort. A love that you have gone without for so long. You're desperate and pitiful, and you were long before any of this happened.

There's a soft touch on your shoulder, and for the first time in a long time you don't try to pull away.

"Please..." This single word carries the weight of all the pleading you've wanted to do.

You feel him ready to give you the embrace you crave when the door opens and Jessica races out.

"De-...uh, Bunny!" She rushes over to where you too are, a worried expression etched on her face. Jessica looks over at Lawrence and then back at you.

"Do you remember that thing we discussed earlier? In the paper? There's more I need to tell you now..."
"Please, tell me now."
Jessica hesitates but continues.

"Alright, so I went out a while ago to take the kids to get washed up at the truck stop down the way. While I was waiting for them to get out these two men were talking and-"

"Wait wait, um Lawrence...I'll tell you it I promise but...let me just see what this is real quick.."

You get up and walk down the alley a bit with Jessica.

"I'm ready...what is it?"

"They were talking, about you. There was mentioned sightings of you or something but here's the thing...someone must have dropped your location to them because they mentioned Good Hope."

Panic seizes you up.

"Do you think they're coming here now?"

"I don't know...they walked off before I could get anymore. I rushed back here as soon as I could though."

"Were they cops?"

"One of them was in a uniform, but the other guy...he seemed like the type that's usually being pushed in the back seat of the car. I don't know if they were planning on coming here or what though..."

You chew on your bottom lip. What are you supposed to do if they did come here? Especially if one is a cop...

"Thanks for that Jessica..."
"I'm sorry, if I find anything more I'll let you know right away." She rushes back inside and Lawrence approaches you.

"Sorry...but I think I'm in trouble again...I didn't think she would but my mom's looking for me. With a big reward too...there's already people trying to find me for it..."

[i]What are you planning to do?[/i]
You smile a bit, but like many things in your life it's forced.

"I'll just...keep surviving. There's not much else I can do."

Before he can try and add anything in you try to change the subject.

"You never answered my last question. You broke your promise." You say this last part is a teasing tone. He fumbles some as he writes his response.

[i]I'll have your answer in the morning.[/i]

Why?...

"It...it better be worth the wait. Or I'll charge you for wasting my time." Your tone is chipper, your thoughts are not. Still, you offer him your smile before returning inside. He follows but your body language reflects how you need to be alone to think. You go and sit with your bag. You need something to distract you...

The knitting needles in your hands, you start to finish your project. You don't really think of anything, except for the growing pain in your head...

Still, you are able to finish the hat in an hour. Ms Buttons in your lap, you fix it on top her head.

...

It's pretty lumpy...but you made it. There's a small sense of accomplishment there. Looking at her and the stained fabric...you don't feel good.  You lay down, back to everyone and curled up.

You drift in and out of sleep. At one point you hear Jessica's little girl asking if you're okay.

"I'm...I'm fine." Even she can tell that you're lying through your teeth. She approaches and leaves something by your bag before running off.

...

You fall asleep for a longer time, not waking up again till everyone else has gone to bed. It's dark and you sit up, looking around. No one is up and about...

You find the little present she left behind for you. A little bracelet with cheap beads strung around. She must have made it herself. You place it in your pocket and a thought comes over you.

Quickly and quietly, you gather everything you have. Everything is packed away in your bag, ready to be picked up and moved. You still have Lawrence's coat to replace your missing one.

If you don't at least give thanks where it's deserved...you'll hate yourself for it forever. You move your bag by the door first...just in case you need a quick escape.

You go back to where Jessica and the kids are sleeping. Carefully you shake her away.

"Can you hold it five more minutes..." She mumbles a bit as she wakens but upon seeing that it's you and not a child waking her she sits up.

"What's up? What's wrong?" Jessica keeps a hushed down, looking around to make sure your conversation doesn't go to ears it shouldn't reach.

"I'm leaving." She looks shocked as you say this. "I don't think it'll be safe for me here...I don't think it would be good for your group either if police bust through. It's probably not the most legal thing you guys have running here..."

She's obvious sad, but nods.

"I...I understand. Will you promise to stay safe?"

"I'll do the best I can..."

"Then, please try to visit sometime. When you feel like its safe."

You give her a smile and a quick hug. Without another word she lays back down to sleep. Waiting a few moments, you scan the mass of bodies for Lawrence. You find him, way on the edge, alone. You creep over and ready to tap him awake but...

...

You are still a coward.

His notebook is laying next to him. You take it and write out a note to him.

Thank you for everything. I'm so sorry.

You set the photo from the apartment in the page beh-

A bang from outside startles you, fumbling the worn book in your hands.
You need to leave, now.

You set the notebook down and see that a fold paper has fallen out, you pick it up with the intent of returning it to it's place when Lawrence begins to stir.

You've never moved as quickly in your life. Out the door with your only belongings, you find yourself out on the cold streets. In your pocket you fidget with the paper.

Hopefully it's nothing important.

Out on the street again, it's getting colder. It's Wednesday, sometime early early in the morning. What do you do now?
A cold wind reminds you that standing around is the worst thing you can do at the moment. You walk down the lonely streets, pulling the over-sized coat close as you try to keep your warmth inside.

Remember, you are doing more good by leaving then you would have by staying. The thought doesn't stop you from feeling any less lonely though...

You head hurts...

There's a dinner up ahead. The phrase 24 Hours never looks so appealing before. You slink in, taking a corner booth far in the back. A waitress much too exhausted to care that someone as young as you is here alone takes your order.

A hot chocolate and a small stack of pancakes.

You fumble around with the note in your pocket. There's that small part of you that wants to look, but at the same moment you worried...

Which would be better...if it was actually for you or if it was unrelated?

If it has nothing to do with you, then you can feel a bit better about leaving. You never got his answer...maybe that's for the best. It would make cutting all your connections off easier...well except for the fact that you're using his coat...his only coat.

You really are awful.

The hot chocolate is brought to you first, it taste cheap but at least its warm. You place the note on the table in front of you. Why are you so scared? The worst it can be are some mean words but would that really be the worst thing to hurt you recently? Everything would be so much easier if everything bad that had happened were mere words.

You finally decide to unfold the paper. It's strange, the paper is line-less, and as you start to unfold it you can see that its much larger then the other notes.

...

The waitress brings your plate of pancakes over, as she sets them down you start to sob a bit.

"Hey kid...you alright?"

"Yes...yes I'm fine." You wipe away the stray tears from your face as she picks up your mug.

"Here, let me go get you another one." As she leaves you lay the unfolded paper next to you and hold your head in your hands.

An amazing pencil sketch of you fills the page. From the looks of it, he did it while you were asleep on the bus, in the aisle across. You look...peaceful in it. Like you haven't just been through the most messed up couple of days.

"Stupid...I'm so stupid..."
Leaving like that was selfish. And that noise you heard...what if it was something bad? And you just ran away, like a spoiled child. Maybe you should head back...you don't have to enter the building or anything but at least you can make sure everything is fine.
You pay for your meal and walk back, your heart beating in your throat. It'll be fine, you'll make sure everything is good and then you'll set off on your way for good.

As you walk, you notice that a few snowflakes have begun to drift down. It doesn't seem like it would be too heavy right now...but who knows by tonight? That means you'll need to find somewhere warm for the night.

While you walk, you can't help but remember your father again. What would he think, knowing you were in this kind of mess? Then again, if he was around you probably wouldn't be there in the first place.

But...something has been bothering you.

You remember all those happy moments with your father, but you also remember the fights he had with your mother too. Now that you think about it...

Your mother...she always looked so hurt during those moments. As you think about it more, you piece together something.

Your father, while he was a good dad to you...

Maybe...maybe he wasn't the best husband...

There was one night...one night you remember accidentally stumbling onto that almost changed your view of your father forever.
You can't stay in the dinner all day, what do you do?
Leaving like that was selfish. And that noise you heard...what if it was something bad? And you just ran away, like a spoiled child. Maybe you should head back...you don't have to enter the building or anything but at least you can make sure everything is fine.
You pay for your meal and walk back, your heart beating in your throat. It'll be fine, you'll make sure everything is good and then you'll set off on your way for good.

As you walk, you notice that a few snowflakes have begun to drift down. It doesn't seem like it would be too heavy right now...but who knows by tonight? That means you'll need to find somewhere warm for the night.

While you walk, you can't help but remember your father again. What would he think, knowing you were in this kind of mess? Then again, if he was around you probably wouldn't be there in the first place.

But...something has been bothering you.

You remember all those happy moments with your father, but you also remember the fights he had with your mother too. Now that you think about it...

Your mother...she always looked so hurt during those moments. As you think about it more, you piece together something.

Your father, while he was a good dad to you...

Maybe...maybe he wasn't the best husband...

There was one night...one night you remember accidentally stumbling onto that almost changed your happy view of your father forever.
What kind of thing was it?
You remember one night when you and your mother had gone to one of your school events, an almost all night thing. She had recorded it at your father's request, since his busy work schedule would interfere with yours. You understood that he was busy though, he had important work to do.

Your mother at the time...she still had some sort of warmth to you, even if it was just a little. It had been a soccer match between six year olds, nothing spectacular. Still, at that age it hurt when you missed the goal that would have made your team won. Despite the participation ribbons, your team mates were mad and made you cry. On the car ride home, your mother actually gave you some comforting words to help cheer you up, enough to stop your tears. You can still remember how proud she looked at that moment...maybe it was the fact she was finally succeeding at being a mother?

Upon returning home, you ran to your father in the bedroom.

And into the sight of him knelt next to the bed, white lines on a folder and a rolled bill at his nose. Your mother was close behind that she pulled you away, sending you to your room.

Their arguing that night...you didn't sleep for a second.

You think back to their relationship further...

Your father was distant from your mother. She wanted affection that he just would never give to her. Maybe...that's why she was jealous of you. He would shower you with unearned love and affection while she was always given the short end of the stick. You know she had plenty of guy friends...and dad didn't like that either.

After his death...there was a moment where your mother was crying and you approached her with one of the flowers from outside. She took one look at you...and embraced you so tightly in that moment. Something she never did again.

Was it because she saw your father reflected in your face?

You push this all back...it only makes your head hurt worse.

Around the corner and there it will be, Good Hope.
Should you go through the front or the back? And should you be sneaky about it?
You just want to make sure they're okay...that's all. You don't want to make a scene of yourself.

You hold your knife tightly in your hand, just in case.

The alley would be the best just for snooping around, and then you don't need to worry about anyone from the streets spotting you. Once again you stuff your hair into the cap and use your scarf to cover your face. Aside from your beanie you look much different then you had when you first stepped out, maybe you'll do something to fix that too...

But for now...well you just need to ease even a little bit of your guilt. You look around the corner...it seems clear so far. What were you expecting though? Or maybe...what were you hoping for?

Okay, you just need to make it to the end of the alley with no problems and then you can just leave, they're fine and you can cut your connections properly.

The door opens and you quickly duck beside the dumpster.

Please don't come this way...please please please...

Luckily their steps are going the opposite direction. You silently breath a sigh of relief and wait a little longer for them to have the chance to leave.
You hear a sound from the direction of the foot steps, what is it?
There's a whistling sound...hiding away like this makes it extra unnerving though. It slowly drifts away in the distance.
No big deal. You've got this.

You start your journey down the alley again...

And you make it to the end without any further problems. Oh thank god.

Just as you're about to celebrate your very minor achievement a whimper cuts you short. It's coming from down low...

You kneel down a bit.

From...below the sidewalk?

You walk onto the street and take a look. There's a large storm gutter, deep and dark. You kneel down to look in...

And you see two big eyes starring back. It scares the hell out of you.

Looking closer though you see it's something small and furry...

An emancipated bark resonates from inside.

Oh...oh! It's a puppy!

You instantly try to reach your arms down inside.

So...close...

With a little more reach...you're able to pull it out by the scruff.

It's incredibly tiny and shivers in your arms. You sit down to check it out...

It looks like a mutt...a mix between...a corgi and a chihuahua? What an...odd thing for a dog...but it's oddly cute. As you calm it down you see that it's a girl.

A little abandoned puppy...how sad. You hold her tiny body close, her shivering scares you.

"There there...it'll be okay..."
You can't help but want to name her... It's almost like you're her brave prince, saving her from the evil menace.

"You can be my little princess...my Buttercup..." You talk to her, rubbing her head for comfort.

If you can't be a princess anymore, then you can take of her like one.

...this is crazy. How are you going to take care of a puppy when you can barely take care of yourself. You've been a failure so far...

Licking your face, she gives you a small comfort.

If anything, you can keep her safe for now. Maybe you'll be able to find her a new home.

If only you could find your own.

You pull out a piece of the fried Spam from your bag. Buttercup eats it up quickly, licking your fingers clean.

You stand up and are about to walk off when you hear the whistling from earlier again...it's coming from the alley over. You can hear the sounds of something thudding, over and over again. A morbid curiosity takes you over. What a poor choice.

Holding Buttercup tight, you inch close to the wall, and slowly peer around it. In the far off, you can see that someone is...kicking something. Repeatedly. You flinch at the wet sound the last one makes before he stops. The man backs away from the spot and walks out the other end.

Maybe it's holding a puppy in your arms, but you decide to go see what it was that man was kicking at. You clutch your knife ready in your free hand, and slowly approach, ready to run at any moment. When you're close enough to see the damage...

You feel as though you might faint.
Who from the Good Hope building do you see in a bloody mess in front of you?

Despite the blood and carnage, you recognize the man behind it all.

"R-Roger?..." He doesn't respond, and you watch as his head falls forward, blood trailing out of his mouth and to the concrete below. Your shocked silence is interrupted as Buttercup begins to bark.

The man...oh jeez you forgot he might come back. You hear his foot steps grow behind you steadily, and you flip the blade out from your knife.

Whoever it is, you charge at him and run past...easy enough. You don't need to try and maim them just...just enough to allow yourself to slip away. Then you run, run somewhere busy and full of people.

As the steps come up closer you begin to count backwards...on one you'll act...

Five

Buttercup continues barking and you tighten your grip on her.

Four

Your knuckles tighten more on the knife.

Three

Louder...the foot steps are getting closer.

Two

Just run, that's all you need to do.

One

You swing your body around, knife leading your way. A gasp of pain comes from above, alright you must have at least grazed him. You use your momentum to elbow past, your bags weight helping with its heavy swing.

In a moment you find yourself at the end of the alley, ready to flee. You dare a glance back at the attacker, just in case you need to remember his face, just in case he chases after-

Lawrence stands in front of Roger, his fingers seeped with the blood as he tries to cover his stomach. From your distance, you recognize that it had been his shape earlier.

He is the one responsible for Roger's state.

You can't help but stop.
What will the little bunny do?

You can't help but stare at what has just happened. Buttercup's barking is the only thing keeping the silence from settling. Not wanting to draw any more attention, you quickly calm her down.
"Lawrence?..." As you walk towards him, he takes careful steps back. Blood from his stomach drips from between his fingers and onto his shoes.

Distress seems almost permanently etched onto his face, and as you come closer you can see both of his knuckles are bloodied. He hadn't been kicking originally.

"If I had know it was you...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." You look down at your knife...that sweet smell is welcoming... No no keep focused.

"What...what happened here?" You can see Roger's body...is he even breathing? You can't tell. When you look back up, Lawrence is still taking his slow steps back. Is he upset that you hurt him once again?

But as you look back down at what use to be a healthy man...Lawrence did this. That's right...look at him. He's huge, it probably wasn't a difficult thing for him to do. And from the looks of it...you doubt this was the first time he's done something like either. The fight looked pretty one sided.

Whatever happened here was brutal.

Lawrence has backed himself up against a stoop, sliding down to the ground. He...he looks like he's having a difficult time again. A break down. Like when his sister died. Like you've seen your grandmother do when her only child died. Like you've done before.

That fight or flight feeling inside you is pretty mixed up right now.
Do you keep trying to help him, or should you leave?
You can't leave him like this. You can't let your mistakes keep hurting others over and over again. The knife is put away in your pocket...you'll need to make sure to clean it later. Buttercup squirms in your arms and you let her go...you need to clean up the wound...stop the bleeding.
As you rummage through your bag, Buttercup growls at Lawrence, sniffs him, and places her tiny paws on him. You notice that he's just starring, focused on nothing.

Did you really hurt him that badly?

You have so little to use...

With your teeth you rip off the sleeves from your night gown and approach him.

"Lawrence..." You speak softly, but he doesn't move. The blood has covered his hand and his body is shaking. You don't think it's that deep but if you don't do something now...

"L A W R E N C E!" Even Buttercup jumps at your abrupt volume.

And luckily, so does Lawrence. Like snapping out of a nap, he looks up at you, down to his injury with a grimace, and back up to you.

"You're...you're going to let me stop the bleeding. And then...then you're going to explain this. But for now, you need to move your hand."

You almost scare yourself with how...strong, you sound right now. You kneel down and he removes his hand. His shirt is stained, and you lift it up enough to see the result of your actions.

...

It...doesn't seem too bad. There's a lot of blood and it's going to require special attention soon, but your mark was long rather then a deep one. You press the fabric against the cut, and though it's soaking in, it should start clotting soon.

God...his blood smells...

Enthralling.

Your own breathing becomes hitched and your head is spinning from the smell alone. You can't lose focus right now though.

"H-here, you keep your hand on it." He switches out, and you stand back up, your head rushing a bit.

"Okay...okay we shouldn't stay here...we should go back to Good Hope..."

Lawrence quickly shakes his head 'no' to that, standing as he does. He beckons for you to follow, you pick up your bag and Buttercup. Down the alley, around a corner, and to a building that has long since been abandoned and left to rot. You're reluctant, but he leads you through part of the wall that has fallen in. On an empty place, he presses his back against the wall and slides back down to the floor.
What do you do or say?
"No...no Lawrence this isn't safe. We need to get you fixed up, fixed up properly! Why can't we go back to Good Hope?"
Lawrence reaches for his pocket...and produces nothing.

"You don't have it with you, do you? No, no it doesn't matter. But...this will be a bit difficult..." You shake your head and stomp your heel.

"But seriously, we need to clean you up! I don't think that's going to shut on it's own...what if you need stitches? Jeez..."

Lawrence starts gesturing at you, making a motion for you to stay silent. You're about to scold him when you can pick up voices from outside. You can't hear what they're saying, but Lawrence seems to be on edge again.

They pass by soon enough and he relaxes some. You want to set Buttercup down, but with all the debris around you don't think it would be safe for her. Plus, whatever is scaring Lawrence...then it must really be terrible.

"Come on Lawrence...we need to go. Somewhere safer then...then this place!" You grab his hand, ready to drag him out if you have to.

He pulls you back down though, and frustration is bubbling over in you.

"Why? Why are you letting this happen?"

He motions for you to lean in. Why?...

You do as he says, your ear nearly against his mouth.

"They're...out...looking...for...you..."

A rough voice in something that can hardly be loud enough to be considered a whisper talks to you. A deep breath and shakiness in every syllable, it's obviously a challenge for each word.

"People who want to turn me in?" You whisper back and he nods.

"Dang-...-erous..."

In his condition, Lawrence probably wouldn't be able to sneak away. When night time comes it might be easier but..you need to take care of his injury sooner then later. Night is still a long time away, and he needs proper cleaning and bandaging.
Delilah, you could sneak out easily enough, but you would need to leave Lawrence here to do that. What do you do?
"Fine...fine, we can stay here for now but...can we at least move you further inside first? I think it'll be some what safer..."

You help him up...blood smears on your hand but you fight everything to ignore it. Deeper inside the building you go, into a room that looks like it held up much better then the rest. It feels like you're less likely to be spotted, anyways. You examine his wound again...it's too big and in a spot that moves too much that you doubt it will be able to heal on it's own...and you feel like a doctor's visit isn't in your grasp.

"Shoot...I bet Sam could have handled this easily..." You mutter under your breath as you replace the makeshift bandage. The others...you know what happened to Roger but...

"Did...did the others make it out okay?" There is a worrying pause, but you are returned with a nod. For now, you will have to accept that answer.

"We need to clean this up quick...I don't have anything though...do you?" A shake of the head, no.

"Well we need an antiseptic...or alcohol. That would work too...I remember dad saying that once...and we need something to cover or close it..."
It takes about twenty minutes of back and forth, but using yes/no questions and desperate charades you're able to figure out what is near by.

A big name pharmacy is within in walking distance. That distance is nearly an hour and a half in one direction. A corner store that carries alcohol and some basic supplies is only about twenty minutes away. Lawrence is skeptical of you going, but you put your foot down on the matter.
What is your course of action? Faster and safer but less to choose from, or the longer and riskier travel for better supplies? When you go what do you choose to take along?
"It'll be fine, I'll just go to the store close by, I promise." As you prepare yourself you see Lawrence's head drop and his eyes struggle to stay open. Something must have happened before the incident with Roger...you'll need to make sure to ask him later.

"You should stay awake till I come back...here." You hand him Buttercup, who is absolutely dwarfed in his hands. Buttercup's tail is wagging her tail and licking at his hands. He looks overwhelmed but if it keeps him awake then so be it.

"Her name is Buttercup, you better take good care of her! If you let her run off or anything...i-it'll cost you!" You try to put up a tough attitude. He doesn't want you to go out alone but you have to start making up for everything you have done, even if he doesn't realize it.

You set out, carefully scoping out to make sure you're in the clear. You only have your knife, cash, and notes in your pocket. The less you drag out the better.

Finding the place is easy enough, surprisingly it looks to be a mom-and-pop store. You enter and think about what you should grab.

A box of gauze.

Safety pins.

A travel sized sewing kit.

Bottle of water.

Now you just need the most important thing, antiseptic. You scan the shelves but in the spots where they should be you are only greeted with empty shelves.

What? Wait...why? Rubbing alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, even bath salts...the spots they are supposed to be is obvious. Maybe they'll have some in the back...

As you go up to the register you ask about the lack of supplies.

"Oh, people always freak out whenever there's going to be bad weather. Especially when its snow. Then again, a lot of people were trapped in their homes for a week last year since it just kept coming. A lot of people like to stock up before then, and unfortunately our new shipments are stuck outside the city."

Dammit.

You hand over your money, $6.74, and walk out with your bag. Your dad said soap and water works fine for most cuts, but you haven't really been cleaning your knife properly. Who knows what kind of germs are harboring on it at this point? You need something that will kill anything in his cut...maybe you will have to go to that pharmacy but in the direction you've walked it'll take two hours just one way now.

As you contemplate your situation, you see a person staggering across the street before setting themselves down on the sidewalk. A large bottle is held in their hands, and as you focused you can see this is an old woman...a homeless one.

You feel the cash resting in your pocket...and your knife.

You're desperate right now. You can approach this woman for her alcohol in two ways...offering or aggressively. No one else is on the street to watch. Or you could walk the two hours to the big pharmacy...
You should approach and ask her for the drink nicely. She doesn't look like the type of person who would get violent, and even if she were...well you could probably protect yourself from her easily enough.
As you walk up you can hear that she is just babbling to herself, nonsense after nonsense.

"Uh...excuse me? Ma'am?" You're unable to pull her out of her talk. You kneel down in front of her, ready to shake her shoulder but she looks up at your face and her eyes widen with absolute joy.

"Jenny! My girl...you came to see me!"

"J-....Jenny?..." Does she have you mistaken for someone else?

"Don't say you don't recognize your own mother?" She chuckles and ends in a violent coughing fit. "You've grown so much Jenny...it's be a while since mommy has seen you."

"...ma'am, if you don't mind...I would be willing to buy that bottle from you, if you just name your price..." You're confused and in a hurry.

"I don't want need money from my own daughter! It's a mother's duty to give everything that her child needs, even if it's the blood from her own veins! Just sit and visit with your mother for a moment and I'll let you have it. It's been so long since I had to give you up...is your new family nice to you? Are they feeding you well?"

You're not sure what's up, but it seems like this woman is remembering you as someone else. Do you want to sit and talk with her briefly or do you try to take the bottle and run?
Look at her...she is probably just a sad old woman. Lawrence will be fine for a few more minutes...

You take a seat next to her...she's been out on the streets for a long time. She gives you a wide grin, missing teeth filling most of it while rotten teeth take up the rest.

"My...my new family has been really nice to me. I have a dad and mom...and even a brother and sister..." You're mostly at a loss for words but she's eating up every bit. "Our house is kinda small...but it's alright. There's not a whole lot of money but it's enough to get by."

"Much more then I could have ever given you. You know, it was so hard for me to give you up that night...you were so young. You clung to my arms and cried your eyes out the entire walk to the hospital...do you remember that?"

You can't speak so instead you slowly nod.

"But I knew that giving you up would be the right choice...I mean look at me now! You're growing up and I still can't seem to pick myself up...but that's okay as long as you grow up healthy." She starts coughing again, her entire body shaking. You can't help but pat her back during the fit...it's alarming to see specks of blood fly out of her mouth. She takes a sip of her drink, but it stops short. She looks out in front of her.

"...I know my baby girl is in the cemetery behind that hospital. She was...just so little when she got sick, and I was too damned stubborn to give her up. I thought...with mommy is what she needs, it's what was best. That cost me the only joy in my life...and even sixty years later I still can't accept that." She smiles and takes your hand.

"Thank you...for playing along with a senile old woman." Tears are in her eyes.

"Come...come with me. You need help, you shouldn't be out alone like this..." You grasp her hand in both of yours. You don't know what you could do...but the thought of her being alone breaks your heart.

To your dismay, she shakes her head at the offer.

"No no...I'm tired. I'm very tired...I think it's time I see my little girl again. For real this time." Her words are heavy and your hands begin to shake...your eyes feel hot.

"If you could...one more favor? I always thought that I would go out alone...but would you be so kind and stay with me...I'm a little scared."

Your tighten your grip on her hands and all but shout.

"O-of course! I'll...I'll stay for as long as you need!" She smiles and closes her eyes. You watch as her breathing begins to slow...slow...

And in just a few minutes it has stopped. You fold her hands over her stomach and pickup the liquor bottle, placing it in your bag. Snow has begun to fall and it clings to her face. They melt against your tears.
You have the bare minimum of what you need to help Lawrence. Do you try to find anything else, and when you go to return how do you approach the building?
You walk away from the woman, a new heaviness tugging at your heart and an increased pain in your head.

There's one of those cheap dollar stores on the way, you should at least pick Lawrence up another notepad.

You enter the store and pick up a notebook, pack of pens, and a bag of dried fruit...hopefully you won't need anything else.

As you pay, a police charger rushes by with its sirens wailing. You hold your breath...it wouldn't be for you...right? An ambulance following behind it puts you at ease...kind of. They are probably just going to where the old woman is...

You walk out with your supplies, you just need to sneak back in unnoticed and then hopefully everything else will be easy.

Around each corner, peeking and tiptoeing about. There's not many people out so you don't really have a challenge. You enter the building, carefully watching your step.

"Lawrence...I'm back..."

Buttercup runs up, yipping as she greets you. You look to where you left Lawrence...his body is limp...head fallen back...

Were...were you too slow?...

As you approach him he jolts up, his eyes groggy. Upon seeing you he waves, but looks guilty once he sees the puppy around your feet.

"I told you to hold on to her." You're, of course, not really man. Just, relieved and sad and just a mixed bag of emotions at the moment.

You pull out what you brought, laying them out next to you. Your head is killing you at this point...and Lawrence's blood smells amazing...you won't get the chance to get it after you clean him up, not without making another wound. His knuckles are also bloodied enough...it wouldn't be a lot but they could at least offer some short relief from your headache.
Do you ask to feed from him? And if you do, from where?
You need to be able to focus on what you're doing and to listen for anyone coming in close, and with the smell of blood all around...it's going to be hard without something to keep you going.
"Lawrence, do you remember the thing I mentioned the other night..."

Your voice is low, and you're anxious about what his response might be. But sometimes...sometimes you just need to do things even if you don't want to. Even if it's hard.

"I know that its...its really weird. And I hate to ask...but I need something from you...something that'll keep me alert and steady for now. I promise it won't hurt but..."

You take a deep breath and look him straight in the eyes.

"Let me lick the blood off your knuckles. I-if you don't think that's too gross or anything..." You add the last part in quickly, your heart racing. This would be the first time you asked permission for this...the first time you did this with someone who realized what was going on.

You keep your gaze focused, as if you need to remind him that you are serious. You're prepared to take the long silence as a no, but to your surprise Lawrence sits up and leans forward and most importantly...

His right hand extended, closed in a loose fist to expose the beaten up skin better for you.

"Thank...thank you..." You waste no time pressing your mouth against it. At first you're embarrassed by your eagerness, but the taste pushes out any other thoughts. You're careful to not bite down and only suck just enough to draw up some fresh blood. It's minuscule, but your head rushes all the same. You only allow yourself this pleasure for a minute before you force yourself to pull away, licking your lips.

How odd...it's like the opposite of Michele's. You were greeted with an amazing sweetness, but in the end your mouth has a lingering bitterness.

"A-alright...let's get you patched up!" You quickly try to change focus from what you just did, prepping the supplies.

Of course the alcohol, a high proof vodka, stings when you apply it. It's probably going to leave some angry scarring too, but it's better then a chance of going septic. You decide to apply the bandages first...if it doesn't close up on it's own you'll need to take more drastic measures.

"Oh here, I got this for you too..." You hand him the notebook, and as you clean yourself off he begins writing. When it's ready you are greeted with shaky letters.

Thank you, I promise it will be fine, I need to sleep for a bit though, ask one question now and then I'll answer the others later
"Roger...did Roger sell the group out?"

Lawrence's face grimaces before he begins to write. It takes him longer then usual, a combination of exhaustion and making sure he writes the correct words.

We all thought he was.
He wasn't.

Your blood runs cold as you read this. Lawrence adds more writing but scratches it out and drops his hands to his lap.

"Right, you need sleep now. Here take this back..." As you start to remove the coat he shakes his head, pointing at you and mouthing the words 'you need it'.

"You'll freeze...here at least um..here take this." You pull out the blanket from your bag and throw it over him. It's...well it was the perfect size for you. But for now it will have to do.

You sit next to him, pulling Buttercup in your lap as you feed her another slice of Spam. Lawrence nods off to sleep soon enough, the same light snoring as before announcing this. You lean up against him, holding your puppy in your arms as she burrows against you. It's cold outside, but the body heat trapped between you two is nice.

Your head is rushing as you patiently wait...you really do enjoy the way it feels. Your mind is hazy...but in a nice way. All the little details around stick out more, the sounds from outsider are louder.

At one point Buttercup needs to 'go', so you walk her carefully to another room to let her do her business. You let her drink from the waterbottle before taking your spot back...

A thump falls from Lawrence's lap; the notebook. You pick it up and see that it's open to the front page. Despite crossing it out, you can make out what he was going to add earlier.

You said before that you struggle with some 'inner demons'.

I'm afraid you aren't the only one.
There was a time when your father got extremely mad at you when you were younger, a bit before he died. What did you do to make him so mad? That last part of his note makes you a bit uncomfortable, but it would make sense for everyone to have their secrets. You carefully place the notebook back. You lean against him again, careful not to disturb him too much as you pet Buttercup back to sleep.
If Roger didn't sell them out...then who did?

And...and why did Lawrence do that to him then?

Questions that will need to be answered later. As you wait for time to pass, you can't help but think back to your family again. You think about how anytime you got in trouble it was your mother to punish you. Except for once...the one time your father was angry at you.

It had been a Saturday, a few weeks before he died. You had gotten up late in the night because you were thirsty, and you headed to the kitchen. Your parents were in there arguing at that time, and you decided to listen in on them from the hall.

Your mother kept mentioning how your father promised to stop doing 'that' and more things you didn't understand. She stopped mid-sentence when a loud slap interrupted her. You could hear her sobbing and you were absolutely terrified...you weren't completely sure what happened. You scampered back to your room, but as you were laying in bed your mind was racing. You needed someone to talk to, and that was usually your father. Once daylight had came you sneaked outside of your window and rode your bicycle to your best friend at the time. You told her everything, but she didn't understand it either. She offered to play with you all day to make you feel better, which you accepted. When you returned home, instead of being met with the usual 'welcome back' from him, you were dragged to the living room by your arm. He was furious that you had been missing without a word, you cried so hard at that time, but you never mentioned what you saw.

...

By the time night has come, your pleasant buzz is replaced with just a feeling of 'normal'. How long will it last this time...

You wake Lawrence and pack up. He leads the way, checking around to make sure it's clear before you head out.

We need somewhere private for the night, then I can figure out what to do...I think there is a motel that accepts cash close enough to walk to

You agree to it and follow behind him closely. You pass by a park, when a young voice calls out.

"Lawrence! Bunny!"
You see one of the children from Good Hope, who is it?
Marilyn runs over and grabs onto Lawrence's leg. You look around but you don't see her grandfather or anyone else in sight.

"Where's Sam? Are you alone?" She looks up at you, tears welling up in her eyes as she nods. Lawrence gives her a comforting head pat as she wipes away her tears.

"I was with pappy and the others earlier at home, but then Ms Claire was about to have her baby and these men tried to enter the building...we had to leave and I got separated...I don't know where anyone is..." She's in tears again. "Pappy always told me if I got lost to wait here, but no one has shown up yet...I'm freezing..."

"Okay, try to keep calm okay? We're going to get somewhere warm for the night, and figure out what to do from there, alright?" It feels weird that you are offering her solace, since she's only a bit younger then you. Your words are appreciated though as she nods

"Is this place much further Lawrence?" He shakes his head and has you continue to follow.

Even though she's younger, you're glad you have Marilyn along too. Despite the fact he hasn't done anything to hurt you...

The fact that Lawrence is a man scares you some.

You come to the hotel thirty minutes after the sun has set. Along the way you show Marilyn the puppy and let her hold it. Holding Buttercup seems to make her feel a little better.

Nickle 'n' Dime Motel

It sure looks like it cost a nickle and dime to build...the neighborhood isn't much better either. You and Lawrence scrap together your cash and manage to get a two bedroom for $35.

The inside...well at least there's a roof over your head and a lock on the door. You feed Marilyn some of the dried fruit and she plays with Buttercup afterwards. You sit at the small table provided in the room with Lawrence.

What do you need to know?
You don't want to upset Marilyn any more, so you talk in a low voice.

"What happened? She mentioned that men came to the building and now you guys can't stay there." The answer Lawrence writes out takes a while, but you wait patiently.

I don't know the exact details, I was out at the time. I was bringing back some food when I saw people in uniforms in front of Good Hope. I think they just got there. Most everyone else was sneaking out the back. I couldn't get over there without being seen to I had to go around the long way. By the time I was there the place had been stormed. I got to talk with Sita and Lara before they rushed off to help Sam with the baby. There had been buzz about something like this happening.

"What about..." You look back over to Marilyn to make sure she isn't paying attention before whispering lower. "...what about Roger?..."

This time, Lawrence takes a long time with his answer as he thinks and writes. You're anxious to find out, but as you wait you help Marilyn get ready for bed. You get her changed into one of your shirts and in bed curled up with Buttercup and return to the table. Lawrence is still writing, and a few minutes later you are given an answer.

Roger was the only one still hanging around afterwards. I came up to him and tried to figure out what was going on, but he kept saying he didn't know. I couldn't figure out who else would do something like this to the group, so I kept pressing him. He tried to run and I thought for sure it was him. When I caught up to him he tried to fight me.

After this is a line of marked out words, he must have struggled to say this next part.

I got angry.

Your heart drops a bit, but you try to keep your face neutral. You don't want him thinking that it alarmed you.

After I- More crossed out words finished, I went to calm down. But I could see the street from there, and I saw Edward and one of the men in uniform talking. I think Roger was telling me the truth.

"Edward?..."

He was the one who was letting us live there. He's the owner of Good Hope.
If Roger wasn't the one to sell the group out...
Then Lawrence has done a terrible thing.
You decide that it would be best to switch the subject.
"We should check on your cut. If it's infected we might be able to tell." You can't help that there is some anxiety in your voice, but you go to get the bandages, hoping he doesn't notice.
Lawrence lays down on the empty bed and you take a look at his stomach.
"It looks as clean as it can get...but I don't think it's closing yet." It's in just the wrong area, the natural movement of his body is probably aggravating the cut too much for it to start scabbing over. You contemplate the other option...would the needle in your bag even be strong enough?...
You notice his hands resting on his chest. The left one is still a bright red mess...the right one looks much better in comparison. They looked both looked awful earlier...why was this one healing so much better already?
You decide to clean the cut up once again to be safe. This time you just use soap and water, much gentler compared to the vodka. He's almost asleep during the entire time, which is probably the best for you.

If the knuckles you fed from are already healing so well...then maybe if you did the same for?...

You doubt if he would be okay with you doing that though. At the very least you would probably end up with a heart attack before you could get the words out to ask. Still...if he doesn't start to heal up...

It's either you mouth or the sewing needle...

Once you finish applying a new bandage you check out the sewing kit you bought. There's three different sized needles...would they be strong enough though? Fabric is one thing...but skin? You shudder at the thought of forcing one of those through and quickly put the kit away. Your head feels light...

You let Lawrence know that you need some air and step right outside the door. Outside and alone, you take the time to collect your thoughts. The cold air is still and your breath shows up as a small cloud, you look around at the cars and other rooms. You can see some of the lights still on in the windows. At the set of rooms across from yours, a car pulls up and an older man steps out. The car looks pretty expensive...why would he stay at a roach motel like this? As he goes to the door you see a girl step out of the passenger. She's a little older then you...but not much. Despite the heavy make-up and her provocative clothes, you can recognize a girl underneath the adult disguise. As she waits for the man to open the door, she looks across the parking lot and your eyes meet.

For whatever reason, you offer her a wave. She continues staring at you till the door behind her opens. As she is about to go in, she gives you a smaller and less energetic wave back. She and the man disappear into their room, and you decide to go back in.

You take the time to shower and clean yourself up, but you think back to the girl.

She didn't look like she was going to enjoy herself at all.

You come back out and see that everyone has long since been asleep. Marilyn curled up on one bed with Buttercup while Lawrence is spread out on the bed closest to the door. You can see his left hand, flat against his chest and you consider trying to sneak another taste...

But you end up in bed next to Marilyn instead. As you're about to fall asleep, she turns over to you, tears in her eyes.

"Bunny..." She whispers, she sounds like she just woke up.

"What is it?"

"I...I miss my pappy...are you sure I'll find him?"

You hug her. "We will."

You can feel her lip is quivering, she wants to cry more but she's doing her best not to. You keep your arms around her till she is back asleep, then lay on your back.

If Lawrence is healing up by morning, what is your plan?
You look over to Lawrence's bed. His snores drift over, and as you focus you can see the shape of his body in the dark. Maybe his hand healing is a weird coincidence...your father always said the human body worked in strange ways.
But then...what if it's your body that is strange? You need to know for sure that it's healing because of you. If you tell him that and you're wrong...he'll think you're crazy.

Rising from bed slowly, you creep over to where he sleeps. You watch his chest slowly rise and fall, he seems to be sleeping hard.

You can do this...every other time you've done this horrible thing it was without consent...this should be no different...at least you are trying to help this time so it should be fine...right?

Kneeling down, you slowly put your mouth over his left knuckles. Can't wake him up...you work carefully. You suck just enough that you can taste that sweet wonderful taste...that amazing sweet wonderfu-

No, no you need to show restraint. You quickly pull away and step back. Lawrence shifts a bit...but stays asleep. Alright, can't take any more chances. You slink back in bed, listening to Marilyn's and Buttercup's light breathing.

Watch, you're just being silly...you aren't anything amazing. A parasite, that's all. You'll feel stupid and terrible about it in the morning...

As you fall asleep you take another glance over to Lawrence...you swear you can see his eyes half open looking at you. Quickly you turn away from him and fall asleep.

As a child, there was a big fear you had. What was it?
When you finally sleep, you have a nightmare that hasn't happened since you were younger.

Moths use to terrify you as a child. Something about them being an ugly looking butterfly, or the way they only come out at night...something about them use to give you the creeps. You would freak out if one ever landed on you, and they gave you terrible nightmares. Moths would pick you up and carry you far far away...something about making you the queen for their mothman or....something stupid.

Of course as you got older, you could see that they weren't scary at all. And definitely not the worst thing you could find at night.

This nightmare starts off similar to the other ones, you walking in a dark place with a candle for light. A pack of moths come and land on you...but instead of simply flying off with you...

Huge mouths and sharp teeth penetrate your skin, sucking away at your body. You try to run, but of course they are stuck to you. Instead you try to rip them away, pulling them by the handful as you flee. You manage to remove them all, but run into a person. Too late you can see that this is a man...a moth man...

He grabs your arms and holds you down, his mouth coming down to latch onto your body. You try to look at his face...

But you are pulled away by the sound of sirens. Lawrence is already at the window peering out. Marilyn is sitting up next to you, a growling Buttercup in her arms. You go over and stand by Lawrence, peering out the blinds.

Across the street you see that there are a few police cars and an ambulance parked by the room you saw the girl go into last night. The fancy car isn't there. As a stretcher walks out, a white sheet covering the body, you see the hand underneath fall limply to the side. The girl's bracelets are visible even on this overcast morning.

Quickly you take a step back from the situation. You want to be thankful it's not for you...but you feel sorry for that girl.

You go over and assure Marilyn that everything is alright, getting out breakfast for her and Buttercup. As you pass Lawrence some of the dried fruit, you take a look at his hands...

His left knuckle only has some small scratches that are healing over now.
You have about two hours before you need to leave this motel room, what do you do? \
You sit by Lawrence at the table and point at his hands as he eats.

"How are you knuckles? They were pretty beat up yesterday..." You try to sound casual about it, just in case you're just being stupid about this whole thing. He runs one of his hands over the other, probably thinking about yesterday. However, he looks fairly surprised when his hand is smooth instead of all scabbed up and raw. He checks the other one too, and you can tell he is confused.

Part of you is excited. Even though it wasn't on purpose, you might have done something kinda useful for once...and if you could do that for his knuckles then you can do that for most things...right?

The majority of you is anxious. This means you have to tell him what you did while he was asleep. You feel guilty about it. Are you a terrible person for doing something like that without his permission? You sure feel like that...

"I um..." You fumble with your courage a bit. "I think...I think they healed up so quickly...because of me."

The scratching of pen on paper.

If it was you, why would both of them be better?

You really hoped he wouldn't ask that.

"You see...well while you were sleeping I saw that your right hand was doing so much better then...well the rest of you. But I didn't know...didn't know if it was because of me or not and I needed a way to tell..."

You look down at your hands, the table, the beds...anywhere else.

"So...so while you were asleep..." You're surprised to hear him writing already.

You took advantage of me while I was asleep?

"What? No no...I mean...I didn't do it for more then a few seconds...I swear! I wasn't doing it for...for 'that'...I just wanted to see if it would work! Your cut isn't doing what it needed to and...and it's either the needle...or me."

When you do decide to glance up you can see that Lawrence is looking away, thinking about this. Without looking at you, he writes.

You swear you didn't do it for the blood?

"I swear on my life, it wasn't for that." Even though it tasted amazing...you can't say that out loud.

Okay. Promise you'll never do that without asking me.

"I promise, I'll never do that to you with your permission."

Have Marilyn take a bath or something. I don't want her to see this.

Your body feels light. Does that mean he's letting you?...

"M-Marilyn!" You jump up over to where she is laying back down. She looks at you with half open eyes.

"We need to leave in a bit, but you should wash up first. You...you don't need help do you?"

She looks at you like you're crazy.

"...I'm ten. I haven't needed help for a long time already."

"R-right...right..." Duh. You dummy...
[1/2]
Soon you can hear the bathtub filling with water through the door. You convinced Marilyn to let Buttercup join her...though it wasn't hard to do that. The entire time, Lawrence has been marking something down in his book. You don't get a chance to see it as he shuts it when you come back over.

"I'm ready...if you are."

In just a moment he's laying back on the bed, shirt pulled up enough to give you access. The bandage just below his bellybutton...alright you can do it.

Why couldn't it have been on his arm?...

You remove the bandage and take a look. It seems like it's trying to do it's thing, but since waking up Lawrence has probably moved around too much for it to stay that way.

Alright...alright.. He's not looking...his arm is covering his eyes. Just a few minutes at most and you'll be done. You bend down, ready to lick...

Your eyes can't help but follow the dark hair that trails from his bellybutton and below his pants. The last time you were this close to a man...

It-

They hurt you-

You needed help and they took advantage-

They weren't the only ones-

You back away quickly, nearly tripping as you cower to the corner. Your hands cover your face and you let out a mix of a scream and a sob. Your chest hurts...everything hurts...your head...

You struggle to breathe...

Damn...damn damn damn damn damn damn...

Behind your hands you can hear Lawrence approaching you...

He's probably wondering what the hell is wrong with you.

You were so ready to do this, and now you're in the corner crying.

"I...I..." The sound of the bathwater running is the only thing you can hear besides your own panic.

What do you try to say or do?
You're ready for him to come up...for him to touch you...for it to hurt again...

He seems to be giving you space, keeping some distance from you. Alright...you said so before...not everyone wants to hurt you...he's done nothing to hurt you...he's only helped you so far...he's only done his best while you keep messing up...you can do this...

Biting your lip, you shakily stand to your feet, hands braced on the wall behind you.

"I'm sorry..."

"This isn't your fault..."
"You've done nothing wrong..."

You're saying all this out loud, but you wonder if it's really for him or you. A deep shaky breath and you walk up to him.

"I can do this...I need to do this...I need to make it up to you..." Your breathing becomes hitched again, your face is hot...that familiar suffocating feeling...

You stand right in front of him and as you're about to kneel down you feel him trying to push you away, stop you from doing it. He probably is worried you'll go into another panic attack...probably trying to say you don't have to do it...

But you do. If you don't, then it's like you're letting those people hurt you again. You take his hands off your shoulders.

"You're going to let me do this." You kneel down as you say this, lift up his shirt, and close your eyes.

There's that sweet taste in your mouth soon and your head begins to rush again...your head goes blank for the time you are doing the disgusting deed. As soon as you take your mouth off...

All the shame and guilt rush back. You stand up and take your steps back. You thought you would be strong and do this without any more problems, you NEEDED to do this without losing it.

You really are a wreck. You want to rush out and get some air but your body feels too disconnected from your head. This time only little sobs hiccup from your body.

Dirty...this whole thing makes you feel dirty...inside and out. You can only cover your face in your hands.

You're disgusting. A mess. A burden. A thing that will either end used up or thrown away and no one will care about once you're no longer useful for anything.

You look up enough to let your voice be just above the silence.

"I'm...I'm broken..." Those words seem perfect for you.
[1/2]
You end up wrapped up in a few short seconds, held tight enough to remind you of the warmth people still hold. You lean in enough to the embrace and think it over.

You ended up fine...you are okay right now. No one in this room is going to hurt you.

Marilyn comes out soon and you're still being held.

"What's wrong?..." She's concerned, and as you're let go you wipe away one of your eyes and smile at her.

"Nothing. I'm okay."

You all sit down and start to plan where to go from here.

There's a library close enough, let's go there for now. I'll figure out exactly where we are. We've talked about meeting points just in case something like this happened, but I'll need to look at a map to remember exactly where they are.

You and Marilyn agree to this and soon leave. The library is an old and cheap one, but the staff inside are friendly. At first they try to tell you that you can't bring Buttercup inside, but upon seeing that you don't have anywhere else to take her...she can be inside as long as she behaves.

Lawrence finds a map and sits down to look it over. Marilyn comes over to where you sit in a beanbag. She wants you to read her a story, but she doesn't know what one.
What your favorite kind of story to read?
You always liked to read fantasy books, so you have Marilyn help you look for one. She pulls out one, 'The Little Mermaid'. You haven't read that story before...you kind of remember the talks about Disney making this into a movie soon.

"Alright, this one is fine. Why do you want me to read it for you anyways? I think you're smart enough to do it on your own."

Marilyn's face droops down a bit as she answers.

"Cause pappy and me would take turns reading a story to each other and it's his turn..." She really misses Sam, hopefully you can find him soon.

You sit down in the beanbag chairs in the kids section and you begin to read for her. It starts off with a mermaid making a deal to become human, but she must make the prince she admires to fall in love with her or else she will die. The prince falls in love with another woman though, and the mermaid is given an option to kill him in exchange for her own life. But as she's about to do it..she realizes she loves him too much to carry through with it and decides she would rather die instead of hurt him. Since mermaids have no soul she starts to turn into sea foam, but angels take pity on her and offer her a deal. In exchange for a thousand years of work she can earn a soul and go to heaven instead.

...

What a depressing story...you wonder if the movie will be as sad. Lawrence motions for the two of you to come over to the table. In front of him is a copy of a map, and you can see that he has a few locations circled.

Each of these is a spot we mentioned as meet up points, but I'm afraid I don't remember the current one. They're all about three hours away from each other...but I'll let you decide which one to go to first. None of the places we talked about are officially in operation any more...or they shouldn't be at least.

On the map, you can see three different locations.

One is a school in an area surrounded by stores.

The second looks like camping grounds.

The third is by a junk yard.
Which one do you decide to visit first?
If the school is offering shelter, that would make the most sense for everyone to flock to...wouldn't it? It would be safest if there was a roof over your head when the storm hits anyways...

You point to the school as the first stop.

Okay, sounds good. We'll have to walk for maybe twenty minutes and then we can take a bus for a majority of it if you want. That might be best, since there's an area between here and there that's known for it's turf war.

"Turf war?..." You ask. Before Lawrence can answer, Marilyn interjects.

"Pappy says its a bunch of boys with too much time on their hands and not enough parents to spank their butts. They all wanna fight over stupid things like who owns 'this' or 'that' location, but they're a bunch of brats."

There are some places where some big syndicates have their area claimed. They use it for drug labs and meeting points, cops tend to stay away.

"Yeah, they know if they walk in somewhere they're not supposed to then these big tough guys will pull out their guns, and BANG BANG!" Marilyn points at you with her hands as she mimics a gun. You look over at Lawrence for confirmation on this. He also points at you with his finger 'gun', and mouths 'ba~ng'.

"Oh...I see..." You feel a bit weird being out of the loop on this kind of deal. You look down at Buttercup, half expecting her to mock you too. Her big dumb eyes just stare at you as her mouth hangs open...at least you're smarter then she is. ..right?

Once again you find Lawrence leading the way, Marilyn and you close behind. At the bus station, you sit and wait while Lawrence goes to get the running schedule.
You feel like talking to Marilyn, what about?
"That story was pretty sad, wasn't it?" You bring up the Little Mermaid to Marilyn as she is petting Buttercup.
"Mhm, but at least she gets to go to heaven now, right?"

"Yeah but she still has to work for it."

"I guess so..." Marilyn looks off and away in thought. "But I mean...if she didn't go through with all that then she would have ended up as sea foam..."

"Do you think the prince deserved to die? She loved him so much and he still rejected her."

Marilyn thinks about this, and you think the topic might be too difficult for her to understand...it is for you a bit.

"I don't think he was a bad guy..." She starts off, thinking about it more. "I mean...he wasn't mean to her or anything, right? He just loved the other lady, its not he could choose who he fell in love with."

"That's true...who do you think the bad guy in the story was then? The witch that turned her human? These kinda stories usually have someone that's evil in them."

"Um...well...all she did was turn the mermaid into a human right? She couldn't help that the prince didn't fall in love with her...she even made a knife that the mermaid could use to steal the guy's life so that she could live. The witch was just trying to help the mermaid, the prince just fell in love with another lady, and the mermaid was just unlucky...maybe there doesn't always need to be a bad guy."

"I guess so..." Your elbows against your legs and your head in your hands you slouch forward. "It just seems like stories like making someone bad so that you can hate them for all the awful stuff they do..."

"I think good people can do bad things." Marilyn adds this in, and you're a bit surprised. "Good people do bad things sometimes, and bad people sometimes do nice things. That's what pappy says. He also says what people do don't always make sense, and that sometimes someone who was a bad person can become a good person, and the other way around too."

"Do you think bad people can still get into Heaven?"

"Um...I think...if a bad person tries to do good things they can. Sometimes you do bad things and don't think about it." You can see her face scrunch up more as she thinks about what she's saying. You might have worked her brain a little too much...

"Your grandpa sounds like a smart man." You decide to change the subject.

"Hmph, he says he is but he acts so silly! I always have to remind him to do stuff or he forgets! And then his stories...he keeps telling me all of his stories over and over again! I've heard them so many times that they aren't interesting any more!" She pouts as she says this.

"I don't suppose he's told you stories about people who eat other people..." You say this in a backhanded way, more under your breath and to yourself then as an actual question.

"He's told me one about that."
As the bus begins it's journey you look out the window, Buttercup in your lap as you pet her. As the time passes your hand wanders to your stomach. You can't help as your fingers sneak in underneath your shirt and rub over the two little bumps. You have been so concerned with your blood fix that you haven't thought about how you actually ended up with this.
You recall the events from the past few months in your head. Before you moved...you are certain there wasn't anything there. Your 'illness' came so quickly and happened for so long...your mind is a little fuzzy on the details before then. You feel like if you were to have been bitten then it would have been while you were in those deep sleeps...after all wouldn't you notice if someone had sunk their teeth in you? Especially in such an...intimate...area. You're sure that you would have fought off anyone who tried to do that if you were conscious.

How do you even begin to figure out what happened? There are so many potential...'customers'...that could have done it and you have no idea how many. What if it was a new person every night? Or...or multiple people in a day...

No, stay focused. Don't let it eat you up. Okay, to be fair...you have no idea what kind of person did this. Technically, you don't know if someone way older or your age did this, a girl or boy...you have so little to go off of. If you could just lower the pool of suspects, even a little, then it could help you find answers...

The spacing between the teeth, they probably came from the canine...the eye teeth...that would make the most sense. The pointiest part leaving the biggest indention...

You wonder...could you at least figure out if your assailant was older then you? Or at least bigger? It might not be all that helpful, but you could at least rule out people if you ever get the chance to make a list of suspects.

If you could just find a way to compare some bite marks with yours, then you could at least try to figure it out a bit more. You should take another look the marks soon, but from where they are it's hard to get a good look...

There was a time in your life when you felt really bad for your mother before your father died, when was it?
Well...for now you need to focus on finding everyone. Then you can start plotting out everything...

You look out the window again and your mind goes back to your childhood...

Your mother...despite all of these awful feelings you have you keep thinking back to her. There was a time when you truly felt bad for her...

Even as an itty bitty, you know that your father's family never liked her. She was the one that led him 'astray'...you can't say for sure if that is true but...they sure did hate her. Cold stares and rude words greeted her anytime there was a get together. After your grandfather died it never let up. It only became worse when your mother had gotten the family into debt. Your grandmother became even more spiteful to her. If you recall...it wasn't even your mother's fault. Something about another car running into hers? It cost so much to fix up all the damages....both the vehicle and your mothers. The person who ran into her had an amazing lawyer...she had fines to pay that she didn't deserve. You remember some nights she would just cry and cry about it...but as a kid you never knew the right way to comfort her. It bothered you to see your father walk right by her like nothing was wrong.

You must have dozed off, as Marilyn shakes you awake when the bus comes to a stop. You all get off and Lawrence finds the way on the map. A large ugly building starts appearing in front of you...it seems that you're here. A large fence surrounds the building, you try the front gate but it's locked. Your group walks around looking for anyway in...

Maybe they aren't here?...

However you come across a part of the fence near the back that looks to have been opened by wire cutters. Lawrence goes through first...he barely fits through. Marilyn goes in next and you bring up the rear. You start to look for a way in when you hear a tiny voice shout.

"He~ey! It's Law-wence and Lyn...Bunny too!" You look and see that it's Jessica's little girl, and she waves at you from the second story window. There's a loud squeal. "A puppy!!!"

Sita appears on a lower window and opens it, helping you all in. The place is dirty and dusty...but otherwise it seems stable.

"P-Pappy!..." Marilyn runs almost immediately, going to Sam and hugging him tightly. You look around and notice that few people are missing...

Jessica and one of her boys don't seem to be anywhere.
Who do you talk to or what do you do now?
Maybe she's just off somewhere...this building is pretty huge. You go over to Sam as he's talking with Marilyn. You give them a moment but you figure it would be best to ask him.

"Excuse me, Sam?" He looks up at you as he's hugging Marilyn.

"Thank you so much for bringing her back! I thought she had gone off with someone else...I was so worried about her." She squeezes him tighter. "I'm sure she didn't stop crying the entire time."

"I didn't...I didn't cry..." Marilyn tries to sound tough, but you all know better.

"I'm just glad we could have found you guys...but I was wondering...where's Jessica?" You look around again as you ask.

"We don't know...some of us decided it would be best to go on their own but Jessica would have returned. I'm afraid she might have gone to the wrong meet up instead...we should have planned it better in case this ever happened but we never would have thought one of our own would do this..." Sam rubs Marilyn's head as she starts to calm down some.

"Wouldn't she come here on her own then if no one else showed up?"

"I don't know if she knows about this place...we never all got together to talk about this...I'm afraid someone is going to have to go get her. We might have done so already but Claire still hasn't given birth yet, I'm worried about the possibility of a c-section..." Sam thinks about it for a bit.

"If you felt like it, you could possibly go and find her. I'm sure she has Thompson with her too."

Will you go to look for Jessica? It is four hours till evening.
"Of course...of course I'll help find her! Just um...just give me a moment...here Marilyn..." You hand her Buttercup. "Take care of her while I'm gone, okay?" She promises that she will.

You set your bag down and make sure to carry what you need.

Cash, knife, water bottle...nothing else will probably be useful. Hopefully you don't need anything else...

You go over to Lawrence who is conversing with Sita. You wait for the conversation to finish before speaking up to him.

"Jessica and Thompson are still missing...I said I would go find them. Will you go with me?" Another favor...he looks so exhausted still...

He agrees to and asks for just a few moments. You wait around, looking at the building. How long has this place been closed?...

From the name it looks like it use to be some sort of private school, but no one has used it for that purpose in a long time. You can see some graffiti markings and damage on the walls.

You begin to wonder...are they wondering about Roger? Will they ask Lawrence? What if they ask you...what should you tell them? You're not completely sure...but you don't think he was going to leave that alley unless it was a stretcher or a body bag. Do the others know about his 'problem'...has it happened before?

Sam hobbles over on his crutch over to where you stand, something clutched in his hands.

"Since you're going...please make sure Jessica takes this right away. She absolutely must take it, okay?" Sam places the item in your hand.
Sam has just given you medication for Jessica, what is it?
It's a small glass container with a top made to be punctured with a needle. There's a label around it, but you can't really understand anything it says. Faintly, as you place it in your pocket, you can detect the slightly whiff of...

Blood? What the hell is she taking?...

"I'll make sure she takes it."

"Good, it's important for her health!"

You go and wait for Lawrence to show up. He does about fifteen minutes later...poor guy...he probably just needs to sleep. Hopefully you can find Jessica sooner then later.

The two of you carefully leave the school, keeping a constant eye out.

"Do you have any idea which place she might be?"

Lawrence shakes his head and writes a message.

I think both places are only about an hour and a half or so from here, but if it turns out she's in the other spot it will take a while to get over there. It will most likely be night before we get back either way.

The other two places you haven't gone yet...

The camping grounds.

The junkyard.

Jessica and Thompson should be at one of the locations...
Which one do you go to first?
"Let's uh...let's try that junkyard first. It looks like we pass by some business strips on the way there so maybe she figured it would be safer there." Lawrence agrees and you set off. The medicine in your pocket scares you a bit...could there really be blood in there?
Maybe you'll ask Jessica about it later...

You've walked for about an hour when Lawrence has to stop and figure out which way to go next. It seems like you maybe turned down the wrong street, but it won't set you too far back. The map seems a bit dated and he's struggling with figuring out exactly where you guys are.

You look around...this area of town doesn't seem too bad. Not exactly a place rich folks would shop, but you don't feel in danger here.

Your eyes gaze over the different shops...

There's a cafe, clothing, a book store, a used car lot...

You can see someone leaving the lot, he seems to be locking up. Just as you're about to look somewhere else the man turns around and it feels like the ground beneath you has shattered. Your breathing hitches...you make sure that you're seeing this correctly...

It's the foreign man from the camping supply store.

It looks like he owns that place, he's talking to probably another employee, a young girl. Their conversation looks like a upbeat one.

You feel sick to your stomach.

You double over, sweat dripping down your face. Lawrence sees your distress and questions you on what's wrong.
What do you tell him?
Your body begins to shake as you speak.
"That...that man over there...he..."

You replay the events in your mind. You think about how disgusting your body felt the entire time. How you were filled with shame. They...they did something awful to you...and you're the one that feels guilty about it...

Your fingers wrap around your knife.

Their knife.

The one they gave you in exchange for your pain and suffering.

It feels like it could burn through your skin. Your knuckles turn white from how hard you grip it.

He should feel the pain that he put you through. That misery he and his friend made you go through.

It's not fair, what did you do to deserve it? To deserve anything that's happened? You bite your lip hard. The taste of your own vile blood touches your tongue. You want to make him pay. You want to ask him why you? You want to cry. You want to make him suffer. You want to make sure he never does anything like that again.

The knife is out of your pocket, and your body springs forward. You only get a few feet before being violently pulled back by your arm.

Lawrence has a grip on you, but you don't want to be stopped.

You want revenge.

"Let me go...let me go!" You struggle to pull yourself away. He only tightens his grip and his other hand comes to grab your hand that's holding the knife.

"Stop it Lawrence! I need to do this! I need this!" You're angry, why are you being stopped? That man hurt you, and who knows who else he might hurt.

You continue to struggle to pull free, tears of anger streaming down your face.

"I said let ME GO!" You end up dropping the knife, you only want to be freed now. You can't see straight. That man is so close, you're so close to satiating some of the hate you hold. You manage to pull a hand free and start beating and pushing against Lawrence's chest.

"Let me go dammit! Let me do this! That man...he...he..." You think about the words that they used during their twisted fun. Those awful coarse words they used to humiliate you. They start to make sense...you've heard those kind of words before but you understand their context now.

"I'm going to hurt him! He deserves it!Lawrence...dammit Lawrence! THAT MAN FUCKED ME!"

You're pulled close as these words leave your lips, but that just makes you angrier. It looks like Lawrence is leaning down to whisper something to you but...god...you're so angry...just let go...let someone get justice...

"I SAID LET ME GO!" You scream this and your hand rushes up.

SLAP

Your hand stings, but it's not as painful as the small red hand-print against Lawrence's cheek. You find yourself in silence, and Lawrence finally releases you.

No wait...you didn't want to do that...

As you struggle to say anything you can hear footsteps from behind.

"Ah yes friends, hello? Is something the matter here?"

It's that disgusting accent. Your heart stops.
What do you do?
Slowly you bend down and pick up your knife, your eyes focused on nothing. Bastard probably doesn't recognize that its you, that you're some one he abused. It's all just a game for them, isn't it? A sick terrible game that they play out on the one's who can't defend themselves and then they laugh...they laugh at your face because of what they did.

Your grip tightens again. Even if Lawrence tries to stop it you're going to show that man the pain you have felt ever since then.

Refusing to look up at Lawrence, you hear the man come up just a few feet from you.

"Is there uhh...a problem here?"

Of course there's only silence following the man's answer. You have nothing you wish to say to him, only what you want to show him.
"Do I need to call the police? Is this man bothering you little gi-...rl..."

His words sputter out when you look over your shoulder. Despite all the anger welling up inside, your face isn't one of rage.

It's serious determination. You hope he can read your eyes.

I haven't forgotten

As he struggles for the words that escape him, the girl jogs up behind him.

"What's wrong dad? Everything okay over here?"

Your eyes widen as she says this.

This guy is a dad?...Does his daughter know about the things he does behind close doors?

You're...you're frozen up...

Lawrence suddenly pushes you along, past the two and down the street. You can't help but follow.

How many other parents are this cruel?...She...she was only a few years older then you...how could he?...

You only come to a stop when you're several blocks down the way. You still can't comprehend all this fully.

Without looking up at Lawrence, you finally speak up.
What do you say or do?
"How could someone who's a dad do that?"
You can feel your cheeks become warm and wet. You...you feel awful again...

Doubling over you try to keep calm.

"I...just give me a minute..."

Your legs feel weak and you all but collapse to the ground. Frustration...you just feel so much frustration right now.

"He...he did awful things to me...and I bet he still went home to his family with that gross smile..."

You bite your lip hard.

"I bet he kissed his wife that night...hugged his daughter..."

A small trail of blood drips down from your lip, your edge of your teeth probably stained red now.

Lawrence sits next to you and keeps a hand on your back as he writes. There's no sobbing coming from you this time, but you can't stop the hiccups that accompany your tears.

"I-I'm so-orry for s-slapping you...I was...I was just..."

You were angry at him.

You nod.

Would you have actually attacked him?

"I...I don't know...it just all started to come out..."

All that hate just wanted to pour out.

Your lip and eyebrows quiver as you read.

I know you want to get back at him. I understand. But if you were to attack him like that, what do you think will happen?

"I don't know..."

They would plaster your face everywhere even more trying to find you. Even if you ran away from your mother till you were an adult, you can't run away from being a murderer. That kind of thing will follow you. Forever

"..."

You're angry and I understand why you want to do that. If anything, remember his face. It looked like you put some fear in him already, if anything you can make him regret what he did. But I don't think murder is the solution here.

I can't keep you from making your choice, but focus on finding Jessica and Thompson for now, okay? She needs you.

You nod as your read this, wiping away your eyes.

Is there anything you need before we continue?
You shake your head.

"No..let's go find them." Lawrence offers you a hand as you stand. Easily he pulls you to your feet. You can't help put squeeze his hand before letting go. What you really need is a hug right now, but you feel much too awkward to ask for one.

Asking for affection like that is almost foreign to you. Your dad never needed to be asked and your mother would never give it if you did.

When you arrive to the junk yard the sun has just sunk below the horizon. There are various street lights around, but the amass of, well..junk, looks ominous. Would Jessica really be hiding somewhere inside?

To get inside you have to jump over a fence that's even taller then Lawrence. Not by much, but for you that's huge. He gives you a boost on his shoulders and the fence is no trouble for you. Almost immediately you're ready to set off for your search, but you realize Lawrence still isn't with you.

Looking back, balanced on top of the fence, the big man is holding on for dear life, a look of panic on his face.

"You alright?" Does he see something that you don't? If he's scared...uh oh...

He nods and you watch as he tries to find his footing and swing his other leg over...

As you keep watching you realize...pfft.

The tall guy is afraid of heights.

In what must have been long agonizing seconds Lawrence finally lands on the ground, a look of relief on his face. You try to keep yourself from laughing.

"Maybe next time you should ask me to hold your hand. Might make it less scary." You tease him, the hint of a smirk on your face. For that you earn yourself a light flick against your forehead.

"Ah...I'm sorry!" You rub the spot on your head. He's smiling back, a 'take that' kind of grin. The side of his face is still red...you feel bad again.

Setting off inside the mess, the two of you begin the search. As you look around a big heap, you see a light off in the distance. From what you can tell, it's a campfire.
How do you go to investigate?
A campfire...that could be Jessica. She could have been out here for a long while. Still...if it isn't..you need to be careful. You begin to make your way over, stepping ever so carefully around the obstacles around. The many cars offer you something to sneak behind, so far so good.
Only a few meters away now, but you needed to get close in order to have a better view. You realize in that moment...that you didn't bring Lawrence this way.

You dummy...he can't even call for you...

You'll just take a quick peek then. If it's Jessica then you can look for Lawrence together, if not then you need to sneak out of there quickly.

A group of five men are talking and eating around a campfire.

That's not Jessica.

Neither is the man who grabs you from behind.

"Hey, look what I found snoopin' on us!" The man brings you over to the group, your arms pinned to your sides.

How in the hell did he sneak up on you? You were keeping your eyes and ears out!

You look around in panic and realize that they have been here for a long time. They must have claimed this as their place, and you're trespassing.

One of the men walks up to you.

"You wanted to see our sweet setup?" The man moves his hands around as he speaks and his voice sounds a bit...off? He talks really loud too...wait is he using sign?

It doesn't matter. What matters is that you are in a terrible situation once again.

"L-Lawrence! H-help me! Help..." You struggle as you call his name. The man in front of you looks surprised however.

"Ayo wait up, you know Lawrence? Tall guy? Uhh...side burns and a beard?" He gestures and signs all this.

How do you answer?
"I...yes I know him...let me go or I'll sc-"

Before you can threaten him, the group all get excited and...cheer? A bunch of 'Ayyy!' surround you. They stop when the sounds of someone moving outside their circle interrupts. A loud clang and a hubcap alert them of where Lawrence is standing. He looks absolutely surprised. Another round of cheers raise up but this time it's directed at Lawrence.

"Lawrence! My man!" The loud man walks up to him as Lawrence enters their area. The man begins quickly signing, his hands moving swiftly. Lawrence watches careful and when the man stops he begins doing his own back, though he's much slower and clunky about it. He seems confident enough about what he's saying till he pauses, it looks like he's trying to remember the next part.

...

He tries one gesture and awaits the response, a hopeful look that he was right.

"Man, you gotta get better. You just said you got stuck in the color purple." The man laughs loudly and shakes Lawrence's hand. Lawrence spots and gestures over at you, and the man looks back towards you.

"Oh yeah, she with you?"

Lawrence nods.

"A'ight, cool. Let her go David."

The man instantly puts you down, "Sorry 'bout that missy."

The loud man walks over to you and over you a handshake.

"Didn't mean to scare you or nothin'. Well I mean, we did, but just to keep ya from comin' back. Gotta keep our turf clear, ya feel me?"

"Uh huh..." You take his hand and he shakes it with enthusiasm.

"Name is T-Dog."

"I'm Delila-...wait that's your name?"

"Nah I'm messin' with ya lil lady. It's William."

William turns around and introduces you to his group.

"Ay, listen up! This lovely lady is a friend of Lawrence, so y'all treat her nice, you hear me?" He's met with a round of yes's and he offers the two of you a spot by the fire. The guys look a bit...well intimidating but otherwise friendly.

"Now, why donchu tell me why you're down here?" We're looking for someone...a girl named Jessica? She's a few years older then me...reddish brown hair in a ponytail? There might be a boy about six years old with her, Thompson?"
William is, unfortunately quick to answer.

"Sorry, don't sound familiar. Why would she be down here?"

"We were staying at Good Hope , well they were...um...anyways, the place got raided and everyone had to leave. There wasn't a confirmed meeting point though, so she might have gone to the wrong one. This was one of the places we thought she might have come."

"Aw shit, you guys got driven out?" William looks worried.

"You sure it was by the police?" A man next to you, Darin, asks.

"I mean...they were in uniforms...why wouldn't it be police?"

"Well you see..." William crosses his arms, his face is serious.

"There's two options if it wasn't police officers. Now if they weren't in uniforms I'd say you guys lost your spot to a rougher group. But...now hear me out, I know this sounds crazy..."

William leans in close, the two of you fixated on his words.

"Now, don't go quotin' me on this or nothin'. But there's been talk about the city wantin' to drive out 'undesirables'. People considered a drain on resources that ain't got money already to back 'em up. Squatters like us. They think that by gettin' rid of anyone without a roof over their head it'll lower the crime rates 'n' shit, right? Dumbasses don't realize that most of it is fueled by them rich folks, but it's always easier to kick a man that's down. There's been rumors that they wanna drive us poor folks out, but how they gonna do that?"

"What?" You feel on edge.

"Folks ain't gonna just leave cause they said so. They can't legally force them to leave the city either, only prevent them from loiterin'. So instead of gettin' 'em to move..."

"..."

"They have plans to just, get 'rid' of 'em. " As William says this, he draws a finger over his neck. "That way they ain't no one's problem no more."

Do you decide to ask any further about this?
You can even feel Lawrence go stiff next to you.

"That's....that's..."

"It's some crazy shit."

"Well yeah!" You think about everything that could mean. "And people are just...fine with this? It's murder!"

"Course there's some people that would oppose it. Sometimes you go to sleep at the top and wake up on the bottom, and once you're there you ain't gonna last long. Not without some sorta connections. But mostly people just callin' it as crazy talk, some conspiracy shit ya know?"

"Would they do that in the middle of the day though? So many people could see..." You're trying to process all of this.

"Like I said it's all rumors. Now maybe they thought you was a meth lab or somethin'." He laughs a bit at this but looks at Lawrence seriously. "You ain't runnin' no meth labs...are ya Law?"

Lawrence answers with a mixed look of confusion and 'seriously'?

"Hey now, I just wanna make sure you was doin' okay. One of the last times I saw you it was when y-" William glances at you and changes up his words. "....you was in not so good of a place man, all I'm sayin'."

There's an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air so you decide to change the subject.

"Well...even if it's just rumors then we really need to find our friend." You start to get up.

"Whoa whoa hol' up now. You gonna go out now? At this hour?" William shakes his head. "Girly, that's dangerous, even with a powerhouse like Law here with ya. You should wait till mornin'."

What do you plan to do?
"I...I can't leave Jessica out there alone. Plus..." You wrap your hand around the medicine. "There's something important I need to get to her."

"Well, alright lil lady. But we ain't gonna let you go out empty handed." William gets up and turns to his crew.

"A'ight y'all. These guys are gonna be stupid and go out tonight. We know them people on the streets are crazy, but we gonna make sure these two put the fear of G O D into ANY crazy fuckers they meet tonight!"

"I...wait. What?" Before you get an explanation, everyone but you and Lawrence get up and move around. Different items are brought up but William dismisses them.

"Too big...too brutish...come on y'all, can't you find somethin' that suits a pretty lady?" Is William gearing you up or running a fashion show...did someone just bring out a shotgun?

Eventually, William is satisfied with what is brought out for you.

"Now, for you lil lady..." Batter gloves with worn down fingertips are slipped onto your hands.

"Is...is this it?" You look down at your hands. Well...at least you'll stay warm...

"Pff no. They is just to help you keep your grip on this beauty." William brings out a wooden bat, the words 'Louisville Slugger' in black ink on the edge. It's placed in your hands, solid and heavy.

"What? You want me to use this? I can't...I don't know how...!!!"

"Now donchu worry, that's why I gave you that. You don't need to know how! Some crazy mofo walks up to you and you just swing! Anywhere you hit will send him flyin'!"

William moves on to Lawrence before you can object. You hug the bat to your body. Can you really handle something like this?...

"Now, Lawrence. Your lil girlfriend there can carry that bat 'round the city and no one will bat an eye. They'll think she's a cutie who loves a good game! But you, you're a walking menace already. I'd give you something with more 'oomf' but we don't need ya gettin' stopped, so here..." William hands over something small in his hands...what could something that size help with? You watch Lawrence slip them over his fingers, a long metal bar covering his knuckles.

Oh...ouch.

"Now, these are illegal to have so be careful, you got me?"

Lawrence nods and signs something.

"Don't mention it brotha'. You keep safe and watch your backs, you got it?" You thank them for their help and leave the junkyard. It's long since become dark, only the street lights offer you any light.

Would you rather take the back ways or stay on the main streets?
"The back ways sounds best...we can keep out of sight from officers and hopefully that means no one can sneak up on us."

Lawrence agrees and you end up on the path. A constant eye forward and behind you. The bat is kept hugged against your chest. It feels much too big for you to handle...but William's words ring in your ears.

Anywhere you hit them will send him flying!

You grip it tighter. Good. That means that you need to try and get the person before they can get you. At least you can keep your knife for back up.

...

Your walk is long. Not even half way you feel absolutely exhausted, but you still have an hour and a half walk. Lawrence offers to carry you on his back, but you shake your head.

"Uh uh, I can do this. I'm not a little girl. I turn 14 next month, you know." Maybe talking with keep the sleep away.

"On the twenty-first. Then I'll be almost an adult...well kinda I guess...but I won't let anyone call me little any more!" You puff out your chest. "I'll be in charge of myself, and no one will order me around or tell me what to do. I'll learn how to cook and drive, I'll find a job somehow. I will be a great grown up. I bet all the kids will look up to me for advice. They'll say stuff like, wow Bunny is so cool!"

Even if you don't believe it yourself, it makes you feel a bit better.

You glance up at Lawrence...he's looking away trying not to laugh.

"Hey! Don't laugh!" He tries to show that he's not, but you know better. You pout your face and turn your nose up at him.

"You are laughing! How rude! Here I am opening up to you and you think it's a joke!" Of course, you're not really mad. If he's going to tease you then you can do the same.

"Least I can climb a fence without looking like a 'fraidy cat!"

THUNK

You rub the red spot on your forehead again. He's got a lot of power in his flicks.

...

You think back to what William had said...

....you was in not so good of a place...

What might have happened to Lawrence during that time?
You need to stay awake, what do you want to talk to Lawrence about?
"So...those guys back there...they seemed to have known you pretty well."
A nod.

"How did you meet up with them? And why didn't you stay with them instead? They seemed pretty well...a bit odd but well off." You've learned to ask your questions together so he can write his answer in one go. Lawrence begins writing while you guys walk, you're a bit amazed by his ability to do both but you realize he's probably had to do this often.

William use to own a small repair company. All those guys use to be his employees. When I first came here it was one of the few places that would hire me. He ended up losing the business when the building he kept supplies in was robbed. He couldn't pay for new ones all at once but we couldn't keep working with out them. For a while I stuck around with them, I left at some point. I think it hurt the group that I left suddenly, but I'm glad they don't hold it against me.

"So William taught you sign language?"

Lawrence motions that it's only a little bit.

"Why did you have trouble finding work?"

It's a tough market for jobs out there. If you lose yours or don't have one at all then it's almost impossible to get another, unless you're willing to do odd jobs or hard labor for below minimum. It's even harder when you have a bad record.

"A bad record...what do you mean? Like you were fired from other jobs?" As you ask this you see Lawrence flinch a bit. You don't think he really meant to write that last line.

Yes, that can hurt. But for me, it's a police record.
Do you press him further, change topics, or walk the rest of the way in silence?
You've never known anyone with a police record...not one that you knew about anyways. On one hand you know that it's probably a touchy subject and you don't want him to think your nosy or judging.

"What did you do to get that?" On the other hand, you're too curious for your own good. After a few moments of silence you regret asking.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm...I'm not judging you for it or anything. I just can't figure out what a guy like you could do to get in trouble like that." You push a smile on the last bit. You're kind of scared to know what he did, but not knowing means that everything is on the table.

Maybe if you ask me when I've gotten to sleep, it's a long story.

Of course, getting an answer now would be too easy. But before he can pull away the book, you can see a line underneath that one that has been crossed out. You can barely make out the letters underneath.

I've got a bit of a t-

After this you walk the rest of the way in silence. The camp grounds is just up a ways. A few years ago it might have been more ideal, but now it's flanked by warehouses. Waiting for a patrolling cop car to pass, you enter the grounds.

"It's going to take forever to look for them..." You glance around at all the trees. "And now in the dark? We should have gotten a flash light or something...we're going to be out here forever..."

Lawrence taps on your shoulder and points behind where you're standing. A couple meters away there is a patched up tent set up.
What do you do?
"Do you know who's tent that is?" You whisper, just in case. Lawrence shes his head.
"It looks pretty rough...I don't know why someone would try and sleep in that during the winter..."

The tent looks weathered, like it has been there for quite some time. You look around but there doesn't seem to be any others set up either. Contemplating the situation, you decide you should at least check it out. If it is just an abandoned tent, then you can at least rest inside. Lawrence looks like he needs sleep badly and without any light it might be dangerous.

"Here...I'll go check it out. You stay here, it'll be easier for me to sneak up on it alone." Lawrence agrees to this and you start to approach the tent. You keep your bat ready in your grip, just in case.

There's no noises or movements as you come up. Slowly, you lift up the flap of the tent. It's dark, but you can see a pile of blankets. They look much 'fresher' then the rest of the tent...as your eyes adjust you notice a lump in the blankets slowly rising and falling. Is someone asleep? You try to see who it is but a terrified yell from behind spooks you.

Turning to look, you see Lawrence is standing a couple feet back, holding up a small child by the back of his shirt.

"Ay hey lemme go! Lemme g- oh ...Lawrence?" It looks like Thompson. He's set down to his feet and the child looks over at you.

"Hey, you're the new girl Jessica was talking about...where is everyone? We've been waiting forever!"

"It turns out they met up at the school instead but more importantly, where's Jessica? Why are you out here alone?"

The boy frowns and points to the tent.

"We were using this for shelter. Jessica said we would leave tomorrow if no one showed up so we were really looking around for anyone else. She was sitting out here waiting just in case, but then she got really sick...I had to pull her inside. She won't wake up either."

"How long ago was this?"

The boy scratches his head and thinks. "Um...it was already dark...I think like two hours ago? Maybe? After I got her inside I was looking around for help...I saw you two coming up and thought you was going to mess with the tent." His face looks worried.

"Can you help Jessica?"

What do you think you should do?
You enter into the tent, lifting up the blankets. Jessica is on her side from what you can see.
"Hey...Jessica it's me..." You speak softly, tapping her shoulder. She's breathing but doesn't react to your touch. Maybe something a little more more extreme? You pat her cheek...she's freezing. And still, no reaction.
You don't want to hurt her, but maybe a little more will get her going?
"Sorry..." You whisper as you flick her ear. She flinches a little, but it doesn't seem like she's going to wake up. You crawl back out to the boys.
"Lawrence, do you know about Jessica's medicine?" He shakes his head. You look down at Thompson.
"Do you?" Thompson thinks about it for a second.
"Well...Jessica never talks about it...but sometimes I see her stick herself with a needle..."
"A needle?"
Thompson nods. "Uh huh, she doesn't want us to see her do it I think, but once in a while I see her jab something in her stomach or thigh." As he says this he makes a motion to the side of his stomach. "Like this."
"I think I have the stuff she needs...but not any needles..."
"Umm...if you think it will help her..." Thompson crawls inside the tent and passes out a small purse. "She might keep some spares in here, but I don't know..."
You feel a little bad about rummaging through her belongings, but if it saves her life...
Taking the purse, you begin shuffling through her items. Some makeup, papers, a necklace...you push your hand to the very bottom. You can feel something thin and plastic. You pull out three unopened syringes bundled together by
a rubber band. They remind you of the diabetic needles your grandfather used before he died. You pull out the bottle of medicine and take out a syringe.
"Uh...I don't know how to do this..." You look up at Lawrence, a bit of a pleading look on your face. To your dismay he looks lost too, but takes the items from you. You and Thompson watch as Lawrence removes the cap from the needle,
pushing the tip into the opening of the bottle. He fills it up with what's in there, about half the syringe, taping the sides.
"Do you know how to do this?" He shakes his head at your question. You think about it and take the syringe from him.
"I'll do it. If she wakes up it might be nice for a girl to be there." You crawl back in to the tent, needle in hand. Rolling Jessica to her back, you lift up her shirt enough to display her stomach.
Why the hell did you offer to do this? You can barely keep your hands steady as you poise the needle. Is this even the right amount? What if it's too much?
Positioning the needle against her skin, you take a deep breath. All the way, gotta push it all the way in. Can't back out of this, all or nothing...
Can't be squeamish about this...just do it all in one go...
As soon as you jam the needle into her, Jessica rushes up.
"OW! What are you doi-..." She's groggy but recognizes that it's you. She looks down to the needle sticking out of her stomach.
"Oh...ohhhh....here I'll do it..." Her words slur together a bit. She's really out of it, but manages to finish the process for you.
You can't help but catch the slightest hint of blood again...that's right...you smelt it in the medicine...
Jessica looks up to you as she tries to figure out what's going on.

Should you stay till here till she is better or head back now?
You stick your head out of the tent.
"I...I think she's going to be fine but I don't think it would be smart to have her move around right now..." You get up and look around.
"Maybe it'll be fine out here...her and Thompson seem to be doing okay so far...we can at least rest a bit too this way."
We will need to move as soon as we can in the morning then.
"Right right..." You kneel down to Thompson. He seems pretty awake.
"I have a favor to ask..."
"What is it?"
"We all need to rest, we've been out all night looking for you guys. Can you keep an eye out? Wake us up if any one suspicious comes up."
"Like who?"
"Well...like someone who might try to rob us. Or...or if you see a cop. Think you can do that?"
Thompson crosses his arms and keeps his chin up, a determined look on his face. "You got it! I'll be the best gaurd ever!"
"You alright with that?" You look up Lawrence. He nods, but at this point you're sure he would agree to nearly anything.
"Okay Thompson, don't be afraid to wake us up, okay? Better to be safe..." Thompson promises to keep an eye out. He stays in front of the tent while you and Lawrence crawl in.
Cramped is a bit of an understatement...
Jessica has laid back down but this time she looks much more asleep instead of...well...dead. You make sure she keeps covered up and lay down next to her. Lawrence is just trying to place himself...even if it was just him inside
you're not sure he would have fit well...
Sandwiched between the two of them it's warm and in a strange way comfy.
"I've never been camping before...I wonder if this counts..."
You're greeted with snoring...from both sides.
This may have become less comfy. As you listen to them from both sides, it does make you feel somewhat safe, despite the fact that you're out in the middle of winter with a beat up tent and a child keeping watch. Your bat is by your head,
ready for whatever may come. You close your eyes and manage to drift off to sleep.
...
When you wake up, two bodies are attached to your side. On the left, you look to see Jessica. On the right you see...
...
Thompson is fast asleep, arms around you.
You untangle yourself from the mess of limbs and poke your head out. Lawrence is sitting just outside the tent, waving at you as you exit. He doesn't look much better then before.
"You were supposed to rest up..." He shrugs at this, trying to look nonchalant about it. Before you can say anything you notice that snow has been falling, some of it sticking to the ground.
I think that storm everyone has been talking about is going to hit soon.

It's still dark outside, but dawn should only be an hour or so away. Do you leave now or when it is light?
You look up to the sky, dark clouds looming over you.

"We should go."

That's what I was thinking, get them up and we'll go.

Back inside, you work on waking Thompson first. You shake and poke at him but the boy waves you off every time. You can feel yourself getting frustrated. How does Jessica manage to do this?...

"Here, you gotta do it like this..." Just on time, Jessica sits up and leans over past you. She pinches Thompson by the ear and tugs him up.

"Hey brat! Time to move!" Thompson struggles against her and she ends up pushing you back as she fights with him. Eventually all three of you manage to exit the tent.

"How are you feeling?" You ask Jessica as she yawns and stretches.

"Alright. I mean, I could really use a bath and breakfast, but I'll live." She smiles at you but notices the bat in your hands. " 's that for?"

"Oh um..." You awkwardly handle it in your hands. "It's just in case..."

"In case of...?"

"Uh...punks?"

Jessica laughs a bit as you say this. You must look ridiculous, carrying that around saying you're going to beat up punks.

"Pfft...anyways...where did everyone end up going?"

"The school building."

"Man...that place is in worse shape then Good Hope! But...I guess it's fine..."

Lawrence yawns loudly beside you.

"Thompson, didn't you say that you were going to keep watch?" Jessica directs her attention to the boy.

"Hey! It's not my fault! I mean...well I fell asleep for a bit but Lawrence insisted he takes over!" Thompson throws Lawrence under the bus and you look at the man with an annoyed expression.

"You were the one who needed the most sleep..."

Oops.

As soon collects on your shoulders the group decides to head out. A few taxis pass by as you walk.

Should you keep walking or try to get a cab?
You decide to not bring up the option of hailing a cab. Money is tight, and any bit that you can save the better. What are you going to do when yours runs out?...

The walk goes without any problems, though the wind has picked up and the snow has begin to fall faster. Never have you been so relieved to see a big abandoned building before...

Everyone enters the building and you're given a warm greeting. As they begin to talk to Jessica and Thompson you can hear the weak cries of a baby.

"Glad to have you back!"

"We were worried about where you guys might have gone..."

"We'll try and have something warm ready to eat in a few hours."

"I missed you Jessica! I missed you! Missed missed missed you!"

You notice that most of the windows have been covered up by black trash-bags, probably for the sake of concealing yourselves and keeping out the cold wind.

Jessica and Thompson go off some food for now and you watch Lawrence all but collapse in the newly made sleeping area. You look around to see who all is here.
Sam and Marilyn.

Sita and Lara, the women you helped with laundry.

John, the man who was making the stew at Good Hope.

The four old ladies; Betty, Gayle, Maria, and Greta.

Claire and what seems to be her new baby.

Mable and Aria, the twenty year old girls.

The guys who seem to leave for work; Kyle, Marcus, Eric and his wife Sarah.

Jessica and her kids, Thompson, Clark (the other boy), and Lisa.

And of course there's Lawrence.

You seem to have free time right now, what do you wish to do?
You go over and check out Claire. She's laying down, a little baby laying on it's back next to her. You're kind of thankful that you weren't here to experience the birthing process. When she's awake you might try going over and talking to her about the baby, you've never gotten to hold one before. As you walk away, you wonder if it has a father.
Walking by Lawrence, you see that he has fallen fast asleep, not even bothering to remove his shoes. You toss a blanket over him.
Later you need to remember to act mad at him for not getting sleep when he was supposed to earlier. You aren't actually mad...but you want people to listen to you when you have good advice.


Oh...you wonder how his cut is. You don't want to bother him right now though. You go to where Sam and Marilyn are working on homework again.

"Good job, Jessica looks alright so I'm guessin' you did the job."
"It wasn't too hard...well I mean...at least we're back now."
"Of course of course. Is there anything you needed?"
"Well..." You gesture back towards Lawrence. "I don't know if he'll let you look, but a few days ago Lawrence got a uh...a cut on his stomach. It was pretty deep...I cleaned it the best I could but it might need some more help..."
"Ah, is that it? I thought it would be something interesting, like cutting off a leg." Sam laughs much harder at this then he should, Marilyn looks annoyed by this.

"Oh, by the way." Marilyn reaches down and hands you Buttercup. "She misses you."
You take the puppy in your arms, she starts licking at your hands and her tail is shaking eagerly.
"Thanks for watching her for me. Do you know if it's alright to look around? This place is huge."
"Well..." Sam thinks for a bit. "I think as long as you're careful. We noticed the ceiling was caving in on the other end of the building and some of the upstairs floors might be weak. Watch your step though and you should be fine."

You thank him and go to look for Jessica. It would be nice to talk to her again. When you find her you see the other two kids clinging desperately to her.

"Promise you'll never leave us agaaaaaaiinnnn!"
"It was so scary without you! No one else was around to scare off m-monsters!!!"

She's doing her best to calm them as she spots you walking over.
"Oh hey Bunny, what's up?"
"I was thinking...there might still be stuff in this building, right? Maybe we should look around for stuff." Really though, you want to try and ask her about the medicine.
"Alright, lemme put the kids down for a nap-"
"NoooOOOOOOOO-"
"- and we can take a look around!"


You watch Jessica struggle with them, but she manages to get all three children to lay down. Eventually.
"Alright, let's scoot before they try to get back up."
The two of you venture down the first floor. A lot of the rooms are locked, you won't be able to enter without a tool.
"Thanks so much for coming to find us. I can't believe I went to the wrong place." Jessica says this as she manages to get a supply room open.
"Oh, it's no problem. I owed you a favor anyways." You help push in the decaying door, opening a room full of boxes.
"Well you brought me my medication, so you might have even saved my life." Jessica goes to open up the boxes.
"About that..." You want to bring up the strange 'smell', and you almost do but you stop yourself. How would you explain to her that you could smell blood in something like that? She would think you're crazy!
"What's up?"
"That medicine...was a bit strange."
"W-what do you mean?"
You decide to go with the other strange part about it.
"It wasn't labeled, at all. It didn't look exactly...well legal."
The box in front of Jessica is full of dirty textbooks. You can tell she's thinking carefully before answering.
"Do you promise not to tell anyone?"
You nod, and she starts opening other boxes.
"It's...well, it's not legal. You're right about that. It never got approved by the uh...the FDA. But without it I would have died years ago."
Do you want to ask her more, or change topics?
She looks concerned, like she is supposed to stay hush-hush about the situation. You set down Buttercup and start opening other boxes.
"Well...if you wanna tell me, I'll tell you a secret."

Jessica smiles a bit at this.

"Alright, that's a promise then, 'kay?" She holds out her pinky. Isn't she a bit too old for pinky swears?...You take it anyways.

"A few years ago, my last year of middle school, I had a boyfriend. He was nice 'n all. I really thought he loved me, he kept saying he did. But I don't think he really understood what 'I love you' meant. Neither did I really, so course I thought I loved him too."

Annoyed by the abundance of textbooks, Jessica sits on top of the box instead.

"Eventually he starts saying stuff like 'c'mon babe!' and 'the other guy's girlfriends let 'em do it', so we ended up having sex."

You can't help but feel flustered as she says this.

"Do...do most people...'do it'? At that age I mean?"

Jessica can probably tell that you're embarrassed by this, she smirks a bit at your discomfort.

"Well I wouldn't say most, but I knew some people were already at it. High school was no different, we were still together and of course he still wanted sex. But one day I thought I had gotten sick...turns out I was just pregnant."

Your body goes stiff as she says this, and some of the cheerfulness from her voice is gone.

"I told him and he freaked out. He didn't want to be a dad, he kept telling me to get rid of it. Course he kept saying he loved me too, so I thought that would be best. I couldn't tell my parents though, they would kill me. So I ended up looking into some not so legal places...I didn't know any better."

You sit by her as she continues her story.

"I was about four months maybe when I finally found someone who would do it for cheap and without my parent's permission. It was painful, and I was regretting the moment I went in. But I kept thinking, he loves me, it will be worth it. Two weeks later I catch him makin' out with some other chick."

"That's awful..."

"Pfft, that's not even the worst part! After the 'procedure' I ended up getting sick. Just awful. The doctors looked over me and found out that I had gotten some weird disease that was eating away at my body from the inside. The place I went to must have passed it on to me. My parents were furious when I told them what I did, but I think they were more upset cause they thought I was going to die. There wasn't a cure for whatever it was that was eating me up. I went to a hospice after that."

She reaches over and pets Buttercup.

"I hated it. I hated the fact that I was dying, and that there was nothing I could do about it. I thought, if I'm going to die, it isn't going to be laying in this bed. So I ran away. Course I didn't get very far...Sam and Marilyn were out for a walk when they found me face first on the sidewalk. They took me in and I explained to them my situation and my sickness. Sam..."

Jessica pauses for a moment before continuing.
"Same offered me that medicine. It's black market stuff, they can't use or sell it here legally, so you have to buy it from some secret people or whatever. All I know is that the stuff takes blood from another person...maybe someone who has the antibody for it or something? I don't know...anyways they mix it with someone else's blood and a few other ingredients. I need to inject it once every two weeks or else my body will just...shut down. Maybe Sam knows more about it then I do."

You feel a bit bad for asking, but Jessica smiles and leans in towards you.

"Now, what's your secret?"
You have a lot of secrets you could tell. But...what would be okay to tell Jessica?
She did tell you something personal as hell though.

...

"Since you told me why you did..." You bite your lip.

"I'll tell you why I did."

Damn...your head is starting to hurt again.

"I moved in two months ago. I was supposed to start school but I got sick right after I got here. For most of that time I was in bed, I just...couldn't stay awake. But one night...one night I woke up, and I could stay up. But that night..." You trail off, but continue.

"This man I didn't know was let into my room. He did awful stuff to me...so I attacked him. I couldn't stay so I robbed him and left...so much stuff happened between now and then." Your hand travels to the spot on your stomach.

"I...I um...also have this..."

What word should you use?

"Disease."

Sounds close enough.

"I get these...these weird cravings...I feel sick if I don't give in but I hate myself when I do..." You're scared to tell Jessica, but it might be for the best. Before you get another word a loud voice calls you back to the main area. Both of you hurry back and see everyone crowded around John.

"Alright folks, here's the run down. Edward and Roger are still missing, but otherwise everyone else seems accounted for. Now that snowstorm seems to be right above us right now, and it's supposed to be a doozey. To keep anyone else from getting hurt, we're going to use the buddy system, and you should let at least two other people know when you go out and where to. Luckily Aria has lent us her radio so we can keep up with the weather reports. As you know we lost a lot of supplies at Good Hope, so don't waste anything till we can get our bearings again. Dinner should be ready for everyone in about twenty minutes." The group dissipates back to their activities before hand. You notice Lawrence is still sleeping and Jessica's kids are awake.

How do you want to kill time till dinner?
You really want to take a bath at this point, but there probably won't be enough time before dinner. You doubt this place would have any running water, and bathing means either going somewhere else or spending the time to heat up water and sponge bathing...
Those textbooks from earlier might be interesting, maybe you should take a look later. But for now you decide to go talk to Sam.

You walk over to where he is, Buttercup in your arms. Marilyn looks up at you with hopeful eyes and almost squeals when you pass her the puppy.

"Why don't you introduce her to the other kids?" You tell her and she runs off before you can finish your sentence. You watch as Marilyn displays Buttercup to the awe of the other children.

"So, what super secret thing did you wanna ask me?" Sam grins as he says this, he must be use to this sort of thing. You take a seat in front of him.

"If it's not a bother...I wanted to ask you about one of your stories..."

"Great! Which one?"

"Th-...the one about the people who eat humans."

"Oh...oh that one is a bit scary, you sure you want to hear it?"

You nod and Sam gets comfortable.

"Alrighty, don't go tellin' the other little ones. Marilyn had nightmares the first time I told her this. When I was overseas, I saw a lot of strange things. Course this was cause I was in other people's territory, but there were a few things that were strange even for them. This one woman, a local, came up to me once and begged me to take a look at her son. I went and there's this boy, a little younger then Lyn, tied to the bed. He looked like he hadn't eaten in months."

Your heart begins to race.

"I asked her what the problem was, why was he liked this? I could only understand some of what she was saying, but from what I could tell the boy was having these pains in his body and he suffered from a new awful temper and it wouldn't stop unless the boy ate human meat! His mother said he went up and just tore a chunk out of his father's arm! They had to tie down the boy cause at this point, even when they gave him what he wanted he would just want more! The woman was already down to six fingers!"

"Wh-...what did you do with the boy?"

"Well I checked on him but he was severely dehydrated among a whole heap of other problems, but I couldn't tell why he was having such strange cravings. The mother didn't want her boy to suffer no more so...now don't go telling Lyn this part...but I helped her put the boy outta his misery."

Is there anything else you wish to talk to Sam about?
"Have...have you seen anything else...like that? Here?" You keep your voice quiet.
"Can't say I have ma'am, but I have seen some strange things."

You consider what to say next.

"That...that medicine Jessica has to take..."
"She tell you bout it?"

"What she knew...she mentioned something about it containing blood and that it was illegal."

"Hmm..." Sam leans back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. "My dirty lil secret is spreadin'."

A look of panic must have washed over as Sam quickly reassures you.

"Just kidding just kidding. Everyone here knows where I get my supplies."

"The black market..."
"Guess you could call it that. See, lots of folks on the street need medication they can't afford. It cost a dollar to make a pill and they charge you a thousand for it, that kinda thing. So course some people are gonna find a way to get people what they need, legal or not. Now of course there are plenty of folks out there sellin' things that ought to not be sold, but there are a few just tryna help out others. Jessica told me about her condition, and I remember hearing about her medication being mentioned in my usual ahh...'market' place."

"Do you know how it works?"

"Bit embarrassed to admit this, bein' a former doctor 'n' all, but not completely. It workin' was a bit of a crapshoot, but it was either tryin' it or we'd have a young dead girl on our hands. Now from what I can tell, her disease attacks her body from the inside right? Her body starts to fail her 'n all that. This stuff she puts in her blood 'hides' the bad stuff, so her system don't end up attacking itself. Guess it puts it to sleep, somethin' like that."

"Why blood?"

"This stuff comes over from Asia, but apparently some people can be carriers for the disease but then they don't show any of the symptoms or side affects. It's like whatever it is is asleep in that person, and the body don't realize it's in them. You can only tell through testin'. So you take a carriers blood and put it in someone's 'active' body and them sleepin' cells cover up the bad ones and the body don't know any better. Or somethin', to be honest I was about half way through a bottle of whisky at the moment."

"Are you sure you're not now?"

"I wish." Sam laughs at this.

Anything else you want to talk to Sam about?
"Could you catch that disease through something...something like a bite maybe?"

Sam thinks about you question.

"Well...I suppose so. Have to a pretty hard bite, see this thing is mainly a blood kinda deal. You can't just pass it on by sharing a drink. They would need to break skin, and there would need to be an exchange of fluids."

Your hand brushes over your stomach.

"Sam, can I ask a big favor?" You're a bit hesitant to ask.

"Does it involve cuttin' off my other leg?" You shake your head. "Then sure, ask away. I owe ya for bringin' back Lyn to me."

"That medicine Jessica takes...could you get me some?"

"Now why in the hell would ya want somethin' like that?" He doesn't sound angry despite his words.

"I...I think I might be sick...and I want to know if it'll help me..."

"Now listen here, unless you can prove to me that you really need it then I'm not just gonna go and hand you somethin' like that! You know if you inject yourself with it and it turns out you never had them to begin with, you'll be stuck with active ones for life? Then you WILL need to keep taking injections!"

Before he can continue there is a call for dinner. Sam gets up on his crutches and places a hand on your shoulder.

"Ah...I didn't mean to go off on ya like that. You just don't wanna get sick, ya know?" You nod and thank him and Sam hobbles off to get food. You get your food and eat, sitting with Jessica and the kids. Lawrence is up and discussing plans with the other adults. When you finish eating you excuse yourself from the group and walk to an empty room, taking a look at your stomach.

It's hard to tell for sure...you try to measure the distance between the marks with your fingers but it means nothing to you without a way to reference it against something.
It's after dinner, and everyone is up and about doing either their own thing or cleaning up. What do you do?
You feel like if you needed to prove to Sam that your body was not 'okay' you could show him the strange color of your own blood. While everyone is busy you sneak away from the main area again, going back towards the area you and Jessica explored. It's too dark to really search around, but a thought struck you.

If...if your spit can really heal people...

Maybe there's more you can do?

You find one of the doors the two of you were unable to open earlier. It looks weak, a man could easily knock it down.

Maybe a Delilah can too.

A deep breath, you take a few steps back and ram your body at the door, shoulder first. Like they do in the movies.

...

You're on your knees at the floor, hand over your now aching shoulder.

A man could knock down this door. A Delilah could not. Standing up, you're thankful no one else saw you and your mistake. A row of lockers are across the hall. Walking over you swing one open.

A Delilah can open these lockers easily.

You open each one. Most are empty or filled with stray papers and school supplies, maybe worth looking at in the light. You pull open the next one, a small knapsack at the bottom. Pulling it out, there's a weight at the bottom. Probably nothing interesting inside but you decide to look anyways.

Moving a little closer to the glow from the main room, you set the bag on the ground and open it. An array of magazines seem to be inside. You pull one out and see that a woman in a swimsuit is on the cover.

Okay, maybe a sports theme.

The next one has a woman...just...laying on a couch?

Maybe...a house wife thing? She's not dressed like one...

Another one has a woman naked, kneeling as she holds her breast and looks at the camera.

Uh...this one is obviously...for...what the hell kind of magazines are these?
What do you do?
You feel like you need to hide these away and never look at them again. As you start to find a place to hide them, a gross curiosity takes you over. The name of one of the magazines sounds familiar...didn't you stumble across something similar in your dad's office once? He was out for the day and you were looking for a pair of scissors. Down at the bottom of a desk drawer you remember seeing a magazine with ladies in swimsuits, and you thought how strange it was that he would have something like that, he doesn't wear swimsuits.

The curious nature takes control of you as you sneak closer to the low lighting from the main room, careful to keep hidden as you flip open the first one. It seems pretty...tame. Just a lot of women in swimsuits and bikinis, though you notice that the ones they are wearing are rather...revealing. But otherwise kinda boring.

You take up the next magazine and flip through. Once again, page after page, you see pictures of women. They are in different poses that show off their body and are suggestive, but their 'lady' areas are always kept covered up, though barely. You feel a red heat rise up to your face, but you keep looking. These last two weren't too...awful. You wouldn't want to be caught dead with them, but you didn't see naked women like you expected.

You pick up the next magazine and quickly learn what a 'centerfold girl' is. Right away you are greeted with various women in risque poses, naked and exposed for everyone to see. A weird feeling in your chest rises...what is this?...

No, no more looking. Time to throw them away and never see those awful pictures again. You get up, ready to find somewhere to throw these magazines away when you hear Jessica calling for you.

"Hey, Bunny! You out here?"

Quickly you slam the magazines in a locker, running back to where Jessica is before she can question you.

"Oh there you are...hey, are you alright? You're face is red, are you heating up?" She touches a hand to your forehead but you jump back.

"I-I-I'm fine!" You stutter. There's no way anyone saw what you were looking at, yet you still feel like you had been caught.

"Well, if you say you're fine...then great! Mabel and Aria wanted to know if they could do some stuff with you!"

"W-what kind of stuff?"

"Well, Aria apparently was going to school for cosmetology or something, so she invited us over to practice on or something. What do you say? You want to try a make-over?"
"I uh..." You're unsure about it, but Jessica's eyes are lit up with excitement and you would feel bad turning down the offer.
"Alright...but you go first." She cheers and grabs your hand, pulling you over to the older girls. You've never had makeup on before, you always figured it was a high school thing.

Mabel and Aria are sitting on the ground, a light next to them. A large metal makeup case is opened next to Aria as she puts the finishing touches on Mabel's face. As she looks over an excited look comes over her.

"Ooh! Did you get me another person Jessica?" Aria speaks excitedly, almost too much as she smears the eyeliner she was apply to Mabel's face. "Ah---my bad!" She quickly goes to fixing her mistake.

"Thank god...I don't know if I can go through another session of this..." Mabel sounds bored as Aria looks over her handiwork.

"Hey, you're the only other one who ever lets me do this! I'm glad to have more people to work on, I need to practice on different faces. Now...alright! All done!" Aria displays Mabel's face to the two of you. Jessica gushes over it, "Ooh...you look so cool and mature Mabel!"

"Doesn't she?" Aria and Jessica's enthusiasm seemed to be matched, and Mabel looks over to you, rolling her eyes and mouthing 'help me'.

"Okay okay, so Jessica first...right?" Jessica nods and eagerly sits down, displaying her beaming face. Aria looks through her supplies and begins work on Jessica's face as you watch.

"Just like the girls in the magazine..." You let this slip, but luckily none of them think it's strange.

"Oh yeah, when I'm done Jess here will look like she belongs on a runway!"

They think you meant a fashion magazine. That's good.

You watch as Aria applies an array of different things to Jessica's face.

"Hey, Mabel, do me a favor and brush Bunny's hair alright? It would save me a lot of time..." Aria doesn't take her eyes off of her work as she hands Mabel a brush.

"Alright kid get over here." Mabel motions for you to sit in front of her. You're a little worried that she will end up pulling your hair too much, but to your surprise the brushing feels pretty nice.

"So how you holding up?" She asks from behind, removing tangles from your blonde hair.

"A-alright enough..." You feel a bit awkward having someone like her working on you, maybe it's their age but Mabel and Aria just seem...too cool for you.

"Well if you got anything to ask just lemme know, 'kay?"
Is there anything you would like to ask or talk about with the cool girls?
"So uh...how long have you been here with the group?" You aren't all too sure what to ask right now. From behind you can hear Mabel chewing some gum as she offers you a stick. You accept it and she goes back to your hair.

"Well, we were living in the college apartments. I had a pretty nice scholarship at the time, but we were doing fine. Then Miss Trustfund over there decided to make her family upset and they cut her off. So then we were on a shoestring kinda budget, my scholarship money covered us just enough so we could study and work part time. Then those assholes in the office decided to up our damn tuition, so we had to move out...jeez kid you got some real tangles in here..."

Your head jerks back a bit as she struggles with a particularly tricky knot.

"This was back in uh...fall, right Aria? Anyways, this fall. We were pretty desperate though. Couldn't go to Aria's family cause they didn't approve and couldn't go to mine cause we'd probably end up more in debt." Mabel takes some bobby pins and begins to pull back your hair.

"We were stayin' at this woman's shelter, but they only let you stay there a few days. I was actually working with Sarah, Eric's wife, at a cafe when I told her about our little situation. She invited us in and well...here we are."

"So you had to drop out?"

"Oh no, I'm still going. Not this semester, but next semester I will at least be part time. I'm actually a business major." Mabel turns you to face her so she can work on the front of your hair.

"Just tryna get steady, ya know?" You nod, and hear Jessica squeal with excitement. You turn to see her looking into a hand mirror, Aria beaming at her work.

"Ahhhh ohmygawd look! I look so grown-up!" Jessica turns to you, and you can see all the word Aria put in. It does look like Jessica could go down a walkway now.

"How about it? Let me practice on you now?" Aria asks, holding up an eyeliner pencil.
Do you let her work on you? Is there anything else you wish to talk to them about?
You feel a brush go over your face and a hand on your chin.
"What's a business major?" Aria tilts you face to suit her needs as Mabel works on Jessica's hair next.

"That covers a lot of different things, but for me it meant that I'm studying to become something like a manager."

"That sounds hard..."

"It's not too bad."

"Why...why did your family turn you away, Aria? If you don't mind me asking..." You ask this before you feel lipstick glide across your lip.

"Tch...yeah tell her Aria." Mabel sounds annoyed, but Aria keeps a cheerful disposition.

"Well...see my family didn't mind my major just as long as I was going to school. They really liked my room mate over there too...till I introduced her as my girlfriend instead of my 'gal pal'."

You must look confused, as Mabel adds in;

"Dummy over there wasn't suppose to let her family know that she was sharing a one bedroom with another girl instead of some dude."

Oh. Oh wait...

Ohhhhhhh.

You're instructed to close your eyes as you feel powder being applied to your lids.

"Yep! They were gonna find out eventually...though it would be nice to still live in an apartment...but it's fine!" Aria looks over her work and smiles.

"You ready to see?" You nod and she hands you the mirror.

...

It's...a little scary. Not the application of the makeup, Aria is good at that. You just look...so grown up. It's not as done up as Jessica's and certainly not as heavy as Mabel's, but you just feel more...adult.

"It was nice working on your face, you have such prominent features. Your eyebrows are a bit thick...but I think they look nice. Make you stand out, ya know? And your lips are just a nice size, not too wide but thick enough to really 'pop' with the right shade...and your cheeks! Man your cheeks are amazing, I'm soooo jealous..."

As Aria contemplates her own features you look over each thing she mentions in the mirror.

"You look gorgeous!" Jessica leans over, taking a look at you.

"I'm not cute...I have a gap in my teeth and my nose isn't small and cute..." All the compliments fluster you.

"Nah, look at you. You're a natural cutie." Mabel joins in and you almost feel bullied. Before they can continue Sita calls Mabel over for assistance.

"Yeah yeah I'm comin', give us a hand Aria." You get up, as the girls leave to go help. Jessica is showing off her makeover to the kids and Marilyn, lauding over how pretty she looks.

Well, you got your first makeover. There's probably some time before everyone heads to bed, what do you do?
You think back to what you had asked Sam. How could you show him that your body isn't 'right'?...
Picking up your wrist, you take a look at your veins. They look the normal color from the outside...but you know that if you were to cut yourself then a dark murky color would spill rather then the normal red.

You take out your knife, going to a corner and ready to make a slice against the back of your hand but you end up stopping yourself...

Right now...you feel pretty. In a way you haven't before. It would feel wrong to do something as awful as cutting yourself.

It doesn't matter. The girls were nice enough to do this for you, but it's not like you have anyone to show it to. You have no right making yourself look prettier...men like it when girl's wear makeup, don't they? Dressing yourself up like this is just asking for more problems, you can't handle wearing something like this, wanting to show off is just asking for it, they would blame you for your problems, it would be all your fault, entirely your fault, why do you think you should tr-

The knife stings, but in the heat of the moment you made your cut. It's a small one, and you can see the blood welling up. You watch as that strange color drips down.

...

Maybe you should have done this over by Sam...

You cover your cut as you walk over to him.

"Sam..."

"Well what can I do for you, pretty lady?"

Those kind of comments make you uncomfortable. How pitiful.

"I...I really think I need to get a vial of that medicine..."

"Not this again."

"N-no look..." You display your cut, the dark blood dripping down. "This...this isn't normal, right?"

Sam takes your hand and give it a good look.

"What the hell..." This is all he can say as he examines the blood.

"See? There's something wrong with my body...could you please get me that medicine?" You watch Sam contemplate over your request. Sighing, he goes and pulls out a bandage for you.

"I think that it's much too dangerous for you. But...I can't explain what this is. I'll get you some when the snow isn't a problem, but if you do this and you're wrong...then you really will be sick. Do you understand?"

"Yessir." You take the band-aid.

"Good, now don't go cutting yourself like this again, you hear me?"

"Yessir." You walk away before he can lecture you anymore. It feels like you need some air, but you don't think you can walk outside. Once again you go deeper into the school, applying the bandage over your cut. In the dark you stand, thinking about little else. You rub your face, feeling the makeup ever so carefully put on. You think about those awful thoughts you had earlier, and you cry a little.
What do you do now?
Maybe playing with Buttercup will cheer you up. You walk back to the where she is, the kids playing with her. You watch them till they are called away to prepare for bed.
"Here girl..." She prances over to you, and tail wagging fierce. You pet and play with her, smiling a bit at her doofy face and whenever she trips over herself. All too soon though she becomes sleepy, and you pick her up.

Laying down your spot on the ground, you sit with Buttercup in your lap. She snuggles up to you, and you lay back. She comes up, licking your fingers before resting against your chest. Rhythmic breathing from her body is soothing, and you pet her while paying attention to it. Your eyes shut as you relax...

...

You dream of a girl, one much prettier then you. She laughs and mocks you, pointing our your frumpy clothes and funny looks. Every time you push her away she only comes closer.

It's your fault She whispers in your ear.

What?

All your fault Her long fingers drape around your cheeks pulling you in closer.

Do you deserve to be happy?

I-I think so...

Why you, and not the people who work so hard for it? What do you do? You cry and run away, you hurt people that try to help you. If anything, you deserve everything you get.Her words bring tears down your face, and a wicked grin to hers. Bright red lips press against your chapped pink ones, and you don't struggle.

Even in your dreams people take advantage of you.

No...no this is your dream. Even if what she says is true...you deserve to have some form of joy at least in your dreams...don't you?

How dare SHE come in here and say these things to you?

Your fists curl up in a ball and your scratch as her face. The grip on yours isn't released and she presses deeper.

No...no no no...you won't be a victim here too...

Your nails dig into her face, unbelievably bright red blood raining out from the marks. Blood...

A shift in your body happens, and it's you leading this morbid kiss.

CRUNCH

The pretty girl pulls away, her tongue missing and blood pouring out from her mouth.

And in a moment, you lose control and she is no longer pretty.

...

You jump awake, knocking over Buttercup. It's dark, it seems you fell asleep before everyone. Catching your breath, you notice how cold your fingers are and how fast your heart is beating.

It's freezing in here, even with Buttercup curled up with you.

You're scared to fall asleep again.
What do you do?
You lay back down, petting Buttercup.

"Sorry about that..." You whisper to her, but the puppy has forgiven you before any transgression took place. Her tiny body curls up against yours, and you appreciate the warmth she gives. You push your hands underneath her fur, warming your chilled fingers.

This building holds so little heat, and you even less. You swear that you can see your breath almost. Glancing around, you notice most everyone sleeps in a group of some sort.

Smart...Jessica was so clingy in bed to keep warm...survival instincts. For now, Buttercup is enough to keep your digits from freezing off. You make sure to share the coat with her, just in case.

For now...it would probably be best to sleep. Hopefully you won't have such an awful dream again. You count backwards, in attempts to calm your jackrabbit heart.

Maybe tomorrow you will see about getting a bath of some sort, that would be nice.

As you pet Buttercup, your mind drifts back to your memories.

You begin to remember when you found out your dad died...
What were you doing/where were you when you found out?
You had been making plans for your father's birthday. It was two weeks away, and you were hoping that the day would be a bright warm May. With your friends at school you discussed the different ideas you had to surprise him. This year you wanted to make him a cake by scratch. Your neighbor's mother even agreed to let you do it at their house so it would be a surprise. You had saved up as much allowance as you could to buy the ingredients and his present. You had plans to next day to look for the gift.
You walked home with a giddy step and excitement in your chest, the neighbor girl walking with you as usual. Saying your goodbye as you walked up to the house, what came next was earth shattering.

When you opened the door to your house, it was to the destruction of your mother. Tears were running down her eyes and she screamed, breaking the unsuspecting items around her. You considered the possibility of her being mad at your father, finally snapping at his coldness to her, but the words she screamed stuck you like a knife.

"DEAD! HE'S...HE'S DEA-AAAAAAAAAD!"

The impact of her words made you the opposite of her; speechless and stationary. You were trying to comprehend what your mother had just said. She couldn't possibly mean your father...could she?

Continuous screams and the actions of a damaged woman must have caught your friend's attention, as soon enough you felt a hand pull you back.

"Come on honey...stay over till she cools down, okay?"

Without a word you followed, the door left half open. The mother didn't even realize the gravity of the situation till she set you down at the kitchen table.

"I...I think my daddy died..." You said this, and the tears finally came. Your friend and her family did their best to give you support, Lord knows it wouldn't be coming from home.

Only a few short moments had passed before the front door was violently beat. There your mother stood, torn clothes and makeup running down her face. The sound of the two women arguing scared you, but your fear increased when your mother stormed in and dragged you off by the arm.

"YOU DON'T THINK I CAN TAKE CARE OF MY OWN DAUGHTER?" The smell of liquor drifted off of her, the grip around your wrist so tight bruises formed. Your friend's mother did all she could to convince her to let you stay, but your mother was never really known for friendliness.

In that day, you lost your father, a friend, and the sun in your life became dimmer.

...

You wake up to the sound of the building becoming alive and the thudding in your head. Sitting up, you can feel the winter chill from outside trying to creep in. It seems everyone is awake at this point.
What do you want to do?
You get up, finding Buttercup circling around in place. It seems like she needs to go outside...great.
As you get dressed Marilyn brings you over breakfast, two white pieces of bread with peanut butter slapped in the middle. You thank her and she runs off to help with the rest of breakfast. Holding it in your mouth, you let Jessica know that you are just stepping outside with Buttercup as she struggles to get her kids dressed.

The snow has covered absolutely everything. You struggle to find your footing, having to hold Buttercup along the way so she doesn't sink into the snow. A tree near the fence has offered just the right amount of coverage to make standing over there feasible. You set Buttercup down and let her do her business, slowly chewing at the peanut butter sandwich. You watch as the snow continues to lightly fall. It doesn't look like it will stop, but it's no where near storm levels. As you eat you see Lawrence step out, lighting up a cigarette as he stands by the building. You wave at him and he walks over, stepping through the snow much easier then you could.

The two of your stand underneath the tree as you enjoy your breakfast and his cigarette slowly burns.

You can't help but feel your head start to hurt again. It's not too terrible...but that doesn't mean it won't get that way soon.
What do you do as you wait for Buttercup to do her thing?
You watch the smoke rise from the end of the cigarette, disappearing into the gray winter air.

"You know...there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while." He looks over at you, undivided attention on you.

"If you keep smoking this much you're voice will never get any better."

A moment later Lawrence has lit his second cigarette and you contemplate the pain of being flicked again. Buttercup runs up to you, her wet paws pressed up against your legs, begging to be lifted out of the cold snow. You grant her wish, holding her in your much warmer arms.

"You aren't mad at me, are you?" You ask hesitantly. Lawrence responds by petting Buttercup, shooting you a glance that reads 'are you kidding'.

"That's good...cause there is something I wanted to ask..."

You hope this doesn't upset him.

"You um...promised to tell me what your police record was about." As you ask this you bite your lip, awaiting his response. The scratch of pen on paper, he struggles to write and keep the paper dry. It takes a few minutes, but you are given an answer.

Remember how I told you the story, about how my throat got messed up? I didn't accept being crippled very well. Michele had already ran away while I was recovering, none of my friends were around, and I just held this grudge to those guys. I had this weird hate balling up inside me, I was irritated and mad constantly. When I was discharged from the hospital, I knew I had to get it out. I had to get revenge. I went to the guy's apartment, broke in, and beat him nearly to death. I got a sentence and he got a wheelchair for the rest of his life. It was only a few months before my 18th birthday, but I got trialed as a juvenile and got out earlier then if I had been given an adult's sentence. Still, it was a few years I was locked away for.

So he has hurt people before. As you read this he quickly scribbles down another response.

I don't want you scared of me though, alright? I use to have trouble with it, but I've gotten much better at controlling it now.

"Except for Roger..." As the words slip out you regret every moment of it. You cover your mouth in a futile attempt to keep the words in and you see Lawrence look away from you, towards the building.

Without any words you can tell he's trying to say 'yeah, except for Roger.'.

There's an uncomfortable silence between you two.
What do you do?
Buttercup licks your face, completely ignorant of the situation you have just created. You look her in the eyes, thinking;

'Why do I make things weird?'

All she does is look back at you with her dumb puppy eyes and goofy dog grin. Yet, her uselessness inspires you.

Tugging on his shirt sleeve you say;

"I'm still not scared of you, if that's what you're thinking. I just...hate how I always make situations worse..."

A note is handed to you.

Your eyeliner is smearing.

You panic and try to fix it, but you have no idea what you're doing. If anything you just made it worse.

"Uh did I fix it?" You ask, but you can see Lawrence once again trying to keep from laughing.

"Well then, if you wanna be like that I'm keeping the coat." You cross your arms, squeezing Buttercup. Lawrence shrugs.

I didn't think I was going to get it back anyways.

"So uh...how's your cut?" You have been worrying about this, especially with all the walking you two did. Instead of an answer he flashes you his stomach. It looks like it's holding itself together well. You comment on how well it seems to be healing, though you can't help the shiver that ripples through your body.

You should head back inside, you'll catch something out here.

"Okay, I'll see you later then." You walk carefully to the building, taking care to step in the tracks he had left behind. They're almost too deep for you...

You enter the school building, setting Buttercup down.
What would you like to do now?
Maybe now would be the best time to look for a ruler and investigate your bite further. Sneaking into the hall, you walk past the lockers.

...

You should take a look later to make sure those magazines are still there and then make a plan to get rid of them. You swear that you can feel the nipples starring at you through the metal door.

Door by door, you go looking for a ruler. You take a look at the textbooks you and Jessica had found earlier.

US History

Might be...fun...to read when you get bored.

Most doors keep you out of their rooms, but you manage to get one classroom open. Digging through the dusty remnants, you find dead calculators, pencils, staples...

A ruler.

Lifting up your shirt, you measure the distance between the bites. You then compare it to your own teeth.

Who ever it was that did it was bigger then you, but that's not really saying much. You might need to try and compare against a few other people. You mark the length on the ruler and investigate the rest of the room. Nothing interesting really strikes you, marking the sign that it is time to return. Ruler in your pocket, you walk down the empty halls. Once again you pass by the lockers holding your dirty secrets...

...

Oh dammit.

You're shocked when you open the locker and find only one magazine remaining, the swimsuit one. As if on cue, you can hear Jessica's scolding voice travel through the building.

"THOMPSON! CLARK! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT!!!" You rush in to see Jessica pulling the boys up by the ears in a corner of the room, an open magazine on the ground.

The centerfold.

"You boys should NOT BE LOOKING AT THIS KINDA THING!" Jessica snatches the magazine away. "Do you have any others? Where are they?"

"No no! That's the only one!"

"Yeah the other one was just a boring swimsuit thing..."

The cries of the boys resonate in the air as Jessica pulls them away.

"You guys are going on kitchen duty!"

A bit relieved, you sit down, Buttercup running up to you. That still means the other one is missing...hopefully you don't have to worry about finding it again.

The pounding in your head reminds you of what is important. You're going to have that overwhelming desire to feed again...but how are you going to keep getting blood? If you're cooped up inside it's just going to get worse, and you can't just sneak some away. Bother...
What would you like to do now?
Maybe those textbooks will take your mind off of things for a while...

You pick up Buttercup and go back to the supply closet, picking out the least moldy of the books. Flipping through the pages, you see that these are incredibly old, much older then you. However you come across a chapter labeled; the US and Vietnam. The year underneath it seems to match up to when Sam would have been enlisted. You skim through the pages...a lot of it is political jargon that you do not completely understand. You pick up some information regarding the US sending troops in to try help some of the Vietnamese citizens, something about communism and Russia...you didn't get to cover this in school yet so you feel a bit lost. Before you close the book you catch one last piece of text;

Many troops were pulled out early due to the spread of several unknown diseases. An unusual amount of casualties amounted from this, including the deaths of thousands of Vietnam natives. It was never officially announced but many believe this allowed for the communist victory in Vietnam and surrounding countries.

The ache in your head grows a bit, but you can ignore it for now. Maybe some pain killers will help relieve it...

You walk back down the hall, but the sound of shuffling from a classroom catches your attention. It's coming from one of the doors that you tried before...did someone manage to open it?

For a moment you consider opening the door, but decide to head back to the main room instead. Still, you wonder what was happening in that room. You sit down and play with Buttercup.
What do you want to do now?
Rather then bother an adult, you go over to Jessica. You kneel beside her and whisper in her ear.

"I think I heard something in one of the classrooms, one of the locked one."

"Did you try opening it again? Maybe it's just one of the guys looking around for supplies?"

"Well no...I didn't try opening it..."

"Just go ahead and try it. If it's anything scary, you can run back in here to me. I'll keep you safe~" Jessica sticks out her tongue as she says this.

You stick your tongue back at her in defiance and go back to the hallway. Walking back, you find the door again. This time you hear no noise from inside. You're ready to open the door, but instead you press your ear against it instead.

...

Nothing...

You don't think you saw anyone come back out from the hallway though...

Do you go ahead and try to enter the classroom? The small window on the door is covered with paper, so you can't look in.