Whatever It Takes: A Crutchie Love Story

Chapter One: The Refuge

Blow after blow, darkness was setting in. Crutchie felt numb, the breath knocked out of him every time he caught it again. Everyone had already run away, even Jack. He was alone and helpless. When the beating stopped, the Delancey Brothers dragged his limp, half dead body into the back of the coach. He knew where he was going, and he didn't like it at all. He heard so many stories about the Refuge and how much hell anyone who went inside went through. Crimson rain dripped from his nose and mouth as he sat, trying his best not to pass out. Then he saw it. The gateway to hell appeared right before his eyes in the image of the run-down, musty smelling Refuge.

"Git up! Git up ya lousy crip!"

Oscar flung him to the pavement. Pain shot through his side as Morris grabbed his shirt and dragged him inside. Oscar kicked at his legs and spit on the ground where Crutchie lay, his legs rendered helpless. Morris still had his beloved crutch and was lazily leaning on it while talking to Snyder.

"Well what're we gonna do? There's gotta be a place ya can keep 'em. "

"All the barracks are over-crowded. The segregated cells upstairs have three to four boys in them. You know good and well how small they are. He wouldn't fit if we stacked them up on top of each other like flapjacks. Then there's the special room for discipline. He certainly can't stay in there..."

"What 'bout the cell wit the goil?"

"We can't put him in there---"

"Aww, c'mon he's a harmless little gimp. What's he gonna do? Sleep too close ta her?"

"Fine. But watch him. Too many more incidents and I'm fired. And if I'm outta the job because of you you'll pay for it!"

With that, they dragged him up the flight of rotting stairs where the segregated cells were. Prisoners snickered as they passed. Oscar banged on a few cell doors quieting them. Suddenly, they stopped and started to unlock one of the cells. The rusted squeak from the lock and key screeched and echoed through the narrow hallway. He was tossed inside like a sack of potatoes. He winced as the sharp pain in his leg returned. He seemed to be alone until he felt it. He felt the feeling you get when you're alone, but not alone. He felt a pair of eyes on his back, stinging into him slowly as they inched closer. The cell door slammed shut and he lost the feeling. His eyelids fell heavy and started to drop. He made himself as comfortable as he could on the cold, damp floor. Sleep soon found him despite his stomach being empty and his mind being full. The moonlight gleamed though the bars of the window as he slept soundly, hoping tomorrow wouldn't kill him.