Tap here to start writingMy bubble gum popped and stuck against my lips. It was cheap, like so many other things that I had had to grow up with. Hand me downs, thrift shop finds, garage sale shoes. It's not like I'm complaining, but when on top of that, you have an abusive mother and a barely there father... it's like icing on the cake. How much worse could it get?
Oh right. My sister- or well, half sister as it turns out, can take all of the books I own, stick them in a pile in the yard, DRUG me, and then stick me out there as well as she lights a match. Of course she was high but her mother- bless her delusional heart, thought it was all my doing.
Yes, my bad, I didn't mean to scorch the grass while I put myself, and the only thing I dared to love in that house, ablaze. I rolled my eyes and adjusted the backpack on my shoulder.
That incident, had really been the tipping point. So many other things that lead up to that point was pushing me to the edge, but having the one person I thought might actually understand me even a little bit, try to kill me? No, just no. That was too far- and excuse me if I run far, far away.
The pavement seemed to go on forever as I walked, and I knew with my meager amount of money I'd have to really save up on things. But it's so hot, and this gas station is the only thing I've seen for hours, and really... I'm sure if I sat inside and drank a fountain cup of ice while cooling off, no one would mind.
With my mind made up I stepped off of the road and onto the gravel that served as a lot for the gas station. My lips were dry and I knew my clothes were sticking in all places imaginable, but I hope the person, whoever they were, couldn't recognize a runaway when they saw one.
I stepped through the doors, cool air rushing over my too hot skin, and let out a sigh of relief. Anything, even the sore feet, thirst, and constant hunger pains, was better than living under that roof any longer.
I made my way back to the pop fountain, and got a cup full of ice before sitting down at a table and popping an ice cube into my mouth. The bell rang behind me, and I slumped lower in my seat, not wanting any other customers to see me and think I was some homeless person. Which, admittedly, I am.
The person walked around the other side of the little gas station market that we were in, for a while. Another person walked into the establishment, and walked over to the chips. His hair fell into his eyes as he gave a slight jerk of his head and pushed his glasses up his nose.
I sighed, having given myself a good ten minute break, and figuring if I was going to find a place to sleep by night time, I'd have to keep walking, and double time it for a little bit to make up for the time I had lost.
I slipped out of my booth, walking over to the register to double check the ice was free. Along the way I noticed the person who had first walked in was headed over to the counter as well. He wore a black jacket and his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets. It made me uneasy.
I mean, what kind of a weirdo wore a black jacket in this heat wave? It wasn't until I was already there before I started to really suspect something wrong. There was nothing in his hands to purchase. The man's eyes shifted as he looked over at me.
With a move too quick to process until I was already in a compromising situation, he surged forward and grabbed me, putting me in between him and the world as my back went to his chest, and the cold barrel of a gun was pressed neatly to my temple.
I almost dared him to pull the trigger, leaving my own personal hell had really brought out a mouthy side of me, that was probably more do to having no words at all and suddenly needing them to survive, more than having to do with who the real me was.
I'm still trying to figure that part out.
"Lady," the guy behind me said, "give me the cash and I won't blow her damn brains out all over your nice store."
The lady behind the counter looked scared, and did as she was told. I saw the guy with the glasses pull out his phone and press a button. There was pause as he sucked in a breath of encouragement, and then he looked up, meeting my eyes.
His eyes screamed good, and that he would help. But I wasn't about to let a stranger have all the cards in the game of whether I live or not. Not after all the crap I've been through. I turned, jabbing my elbow into the stomach of the man behind me, silently praying that he was one of those guys who thought it was some kind of intimidating move to take of the safety when threatened.
I was right. He squeezed the trigger, and nothing happened as he bent over, trying to gain the breath he had just been robbed of. I smiled an turned, grabbing a fist full of his hair, lifted his head, only to bring it down against my knee.
The move hurt me, but I'm pretty darn sure that it hurt him worse, as I heard the crunch of his nose breaking. Blood was now everywhere, and I took the opportunity to kick the guy. But my luck was running out, the man grabbed my ankle and yanked me towards him, making me fall to my butt and give out a low moan of pain.
The guy leaned down, grabbing up the material of my shirt before jerking me up, ripping my last good shirt in the process. I saw the fist coming towards me just in time to move my face, and let him punch the air. I used his momentum against him and rolled us so that I was over top of him, and he was on the ground.
I sucker punched him in the nose, and then let out a cry of pain, shaking my hand. Someone lifted me off of him, pulling me into a warm chest. I fought against him, but a warm, soothing voice had me stopping. No way could this gentle giant be trying to hurt me.
"That's right little bird," his accented voice said, "Here, go see Kota," he said, passing me off and walking towards the robber, his gentleness gone, replaced with a thick armor that while you couldn't see it, you could practically feel it.
Kota turned out to be the boy with the glasses. He looked at me for a moment before speaking, "I don't know if that was courage, or stupidity, but whatever it was, how would you like to join the academy?" he said tilting his head.
