Letters From A Ninja

Chapter 2

It had always been difficult to find a nice, quiet place in LA. I loved the beach, but they were always crowded. About a year ago, when I finally admitted to myself that I was unhappy with Archer, I went on a long, dazed walk. I hadn't really been paying attention to where I was going, but I found old train tracks. Nobody was there and something about them intrigued me. As far as I knew, trains didn't even run down them anymore.

I couldn't exactly talk to people, because no one would really believe that the center of my problems was my abusive ninja boyfriend. So this place had became my escape, my therapy. It was probably the only location in this part of California where you could clearly hear the crickets in the summer without the noise pollution. There, I felt like I could be someone else, I could leave my ridiculous life behind.

My dad didn't know, and neither did Archer, so a picture without them in it was more than enough to be my paradise.

A lot of the time when life got difficult or confusing, I'd bring my journal there. Among everything that was going on, I found it weird that none of my writing involved either of them. Instead, I wrote about things that I dreamed of. What it would be like to see someone who made your heart flutter. To mean something to someone. I made stories about all the places I wanted to go, which to summarize was basically anywhere but where I was at.

Recently I'd been thinking deeply about my mom. I never knew her, because my dad divorced her and he didn't give me consent to see her. He told me that when he kicked her out, she really needed money, otherwise she'd be homeless. So he made her a deal that as long as she signed her rights to me over, he'd buy her house. She agreed.

When my father got mad, he'd rant at me. Saying things like it didn't take the slightest bit of convincing to get my mom to sign her rights over. I knew that he wasn't exactly the most reliable person, but I couldn't help but wonder. Of course I couldn't blame my mother for what she did. Even though my dad treated me like his worst mistake, he provided things that I needed in order to be healthy.

There was a part of me who got angry at the subject. Even if she had signed her rights over, she could talk to me, or even try to find me. How would she do that, though? I wasn't the girl who made the local newspaper for her wonderful accomplishments. I wasn't even the girl that every guy in town talked about because I was always down for a "good time." I was just Carson, victim to my boyfriend's violent life; the girl who wanted to be someone- anyone- else, but couldn't, due to the fact that she was stuck inside herself.

All of these thoughts ran through my head, reminding me of everything bad that was happening to me. How it wasn't fair that I got this life, when it could easily belong to anyone else who wanted it. Suddenly, after bursting into tears from all the regrets and sorrow I had for myself, I came to a realization. What had I done to change my life for the better, other than run from it? Absolutely nothing.

I picked up a handful of rocks and tossed them angrily down the tracks. The sound of them forcefully hitting the metal satisfied the angry side of me, but did nothing for the empty one. Then I heard someone coming. I was completely startled by this, because nobody ever came this way. I quickly ran behind some weeds that had grown beside the tracks. A guy stepped out onto the tracks, and I accidentally rustled the weeds, causing him to glance my way.

I made a mental plea that he wouldn't notice me, and it seemed to be granted, because he turned his back to the area I was in.

I wasn't up to anyone finding me out, especially since there was a chance he knew Archer or his people. As soon as he turned around, I took my opportunity to sprint back down the little path leading back to my house.

I wondered why he was there at 3 AM, because at this time, most people were asleep. I assumed he was a kid who'd decided to sneak out and meet his girlfriend or friends in a discreet place. He didn't appear as the rebellious type, but things aren't always as they seem; I knew that all too well after living my life with Archer.

Nothing about the boy struck me as particularly familiar. I didn't exactly have much time to observe him, as I did most people. I did notice that he had long, sandy hair that covered his eyes. His eyes themselves were a deep blue, or looked it from a distance. He had a thoughtful look on his face. The only skin visible was his face and hands, everywhere else was covered with clothing. He appeared naturally tan.

That struck me as peculiar, considering that the low temperature for California was generally around 60, even during the winter. It was the beginning of summer, most people around here were basically walking around half-naked.

He was tall and slender, yet muscular. His body type reminded me of Archer, but that was a whole different story when it came to the facial features.

Archer always a sadistic, hateful look on his face. He always had stubble and usually looked rough and unapproachable. The look that for some reason made girls melt.

The unknown boy, however, had a soft, warm expression. He gave a peaceful vibe and altogether provided me with a welcoming feeling.

There was something in the face he made that I couldn't quite identify... Longing?

Alright, so I have to votes and I believe nine reads on chapter one. I'll try to upload chapter three tomorrow evening. Please leave a comment on what you think, I'd really appreciate it.

Also, I'll just announce this in an author's note, because I don't really know how to work it into the story itself without it being indirect. In this story, where most people function during the day and sleep at night, it's the opposite. You never see ninjas in daylight. ;p