Grey

2.

"You can't sleep here lady!" A voice scolds loudly, waking me up with a jolt.

I look up to see a guy with his work uniform on. He looked like a busboy or something.

"Look I know the economy is bad and everything but ya can't sleep outside our restaurant waiting to dumpster dive." He states while throwing a trash bag in the dumpster.
I stare at him a bit annoyed but too tired to even respond. Then it hit me. The reason why I was even laying here in the first place.
The man. That woman...oh god.
I jump up, looking at my surroundings. How far did I run away from the scene? How long was I out for? It seemed to be in the middle of the day. I didn't really recognize where I was. Maybe it was all just a dream...A horrible, horrible dream.
I wasn't so lucky though. The giveaway was the distant sound of police sirens. I swallow hard as I follow the sound very carefully. Truth is, I was scared. I was scared that what I saw was all too real. I hadn't realized how far I ran last night until I approached my spot. I stopped abruptly though a few yards away from the scene in front of me. The air hitches in my throat and I instinctively take a step back. Police cars block off the alley I was sleeping in just last night and where I had witnessed the...incident. The blocked off scene mimicked the one I came a crossed yesterday up to a tee. Even the same two men showed up. I caught on that they were probably detectives or something. I wonder what their conclusions were about the killings? Animal maybe? I didn't stick around to find out. I was getting to freaked out by this whole thing. I witnessed a murder and not just any murder...something out of the X-files type of thing.
I ran until I came to my apartment complex. Trust me the last place I wanted to be was here. But I needed money and I knew my father had some from that night of poker. I would be quick. In and out in no time.
~
There he laid, passed out on the couch. Pretty much my dad everyday. I quietly snuck by him and crept into his trashed room. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes gripped the air tightly. I can remember always smelling like that before I left the house. Everyone at my school just assumed I was some messed up kid. Which I guess they weren't completely off. Especially when I dropped out last year. I wasn't to thrilled about that but I was better off. People from my school started to get suspicious of my situation at home. The more questions they asked the more pissed my dad became. Which never ended well for me. His...out burst, would happen more often so I guess I thought dropping out would be the best alternative. I did what I had to do. Just like now. I just needed the money then I was getting the hell out of here. Once my dad realizes the money is gone he won't be a happy camper. But I won't be around long enough to experience it. Maybe I'll leave Illinois, get a job somewhere and start new. He won a lot last night, enough to get me the hell out of town. I just needed to figure out his code to the safe. I knew the money would be in there, along with his gun. Maybe I should take that to....
Before I could think another thought a tight grip grasps my shoulders and spins me around. I'm met with my fathers drunken glare, as he shakes me a bit.

"What the fuck do ya think your doin!" He spits.

"N-Nothing, I-I -"

"Where did ya run off to? Uh? Did ya go to the police?" He growls at me, tightening his grip on my petite frame.

"N-No! I swear!" I stuttered and coward towards him.

"Tryin to steal my money uh? Tryin to take my money ya fucking bitch!" He yells throwing me down hard. I try to scamper away from him and towards the door but he yanks me back by my ankle, arching his hand back, ready to strike me. Before he can though I donkey-kick him with my free leg, right in the gonads. As soon as I feel his grip leave me I don't stay and watch his reaction to myself defense. I bolt as fast as I can out of that place. Not once do I look back.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I yell at myself out loud as soon as I was far away from that shit hole. It was a dumb idea to go back.
Dammit my hands stung. I inspected them and realized they were bleeding. Little shards of glass were caked into the palms of my hands and the cold air didn't help the stinging. I must have landed on a broken beer bottle when he threw my down. I didn't remember doing that but then again my adrenaline was kicked into full gear mode. But now that my breathing was starting to steady, the pain flooded to my palms.

"Dammit," I hiss under my breath.

My eyes watered ever so slightly as the crisp breeze picked up. I shoved my hands into the pouch of my sweatshirt not really caring at this point if the blood stained it.

I jogged across the street and into a McDonald's, not wasting anytime in heading to the bathroom and straight to the sink. I whimper, gritting my teeth as the water makes contact with my skin. I try to get as many as the little shards out of the cuts as I could by painfully scrubbing and picking them out. I watched as the last of the little pieces of glass went down the drain. Good news was it didn't look like I needed stitches. Bad news was, well, everything else. I still had no money, I haven't eaten since yesterday, and I was homeless. I wasn't trying to stand here and feel sorry for myself but my god this sucked ass.
~
I tug the string off my hoodie and chew at it until it snaps off into two pieces. I then take a shit load of toilet paper and wrap it around my hands a couple times before tying the string around it tightly to hold it into place.
I hold them out in front of me and shrug. Not too shabby considering.
I make my way out of the bathroom realizing I had been in there for a while. I just couldn't bring myself to go out into the cold again. But I needed to find food. I could almost feel myself losing weight by the minute. And the smell of the greasy fattening food coming from everywhere in this place was not helping.
I walk up to the exit but stop dead in my tracks before leaving. Outside, across the street was him. The 'man' from last night. Just casually walking down the sidewalk. But he didn't have his hood up. He looked...normal. Everything about him looked fine. What the hell was this? I know what I saw last night...he was, well he was a monster. He literally had some kind of wolf thing on the back of his head and now it was normally laird with hair.
Before I could even think through my actions I take off after him when he rounds the corner. Ignoring the frantic car beeps directed towards me as I carelessly fly across the street, I finally see him round the corner and disappear behind an old building.
I run even faster, still not really thinking, until I see him again. My legs carry me as fast as they can towards the guy. Now I'm not sure what my plan was. I'm not sure what the hell I was even doing. I was scared shitless. Yet here I was. About to charge a mutant thing. Maybe it was because I felt partially guilty for that woman's death. I mean I just sat there and watched it happen. I don't know though, my brain wasn't really letting me think about it all that much. I just charged.
And boy did I charge alright. Right into a freakin flying squirrel.

Okay not literally a flying squirrel but some dude came out of nowhere and collided right into me. We both land with a thud, right on our asses. The mutant flinched away from us and parkoured his way up the side of the building before disappearing.
Another man came running out of nowhere, a gun in his hand, ready to shoot.

"Dammit!" The one still on his ass yelled.

"You alright?" The super big one asked helping his partner up.

"No! The son of a bitch got away Sam!"

"Uh, Dean,"

Godzilla gestures to me. Freckles jaw tightens in annoyingness when they both acknowledge me finally. I stood up backing away from them slowly.
I've seen these two before. At the crime scenes.

The 'detectives'.