Strength ~Jack Wilder FanFic~

Chapter 1

*EDITED*

I ran down the sidewalk, dodging people left and right, a lot of them yelling at me to "slow down" or to "watch where I was going," but I was late. Not just a little late. Oh no, I extremely late. I turn down an alley that lies between my apartment complex and an old liquor store, which left dozens of drunken homeless men in the alley.

I run to under the fire escape that leads up to the apartment and jump up, grabbing the ladder and pulling it down with me. I start to race up the ladder, my sweat making my hands slippery, making it harder to climb.

"Stephanie?" A old voice grumbles from bellow me. I glance down quickly at Bill, one of the drunken homeless men that I entertain with me tricks.

"Hey Bill," I call down to him, still climbing.

"You told me you were going to teach me how to do that trick." He says stumbling; grabbing a hold of the ladder I was climbing, making it shake causing me to slip. I start to fall. I reach out my arms and grab onto a rung, swinging my body back towards the ladder, the impact causing me to lose my breath.

"I promise a will tomorrow Bill, I have to go." I tell him climbing all the way up, reaching the stairwell, then climbing the rest of the stairs until I reach my bedroom window on the 5th floor. I pull a key from my pocket and stick it into the latch on my window, quickly unlocking it, and pulling it open.

I jump through the window landing on my bed and shutting the window behind me. As it slams shut a let out a deep breath, relaxing. "Why must Central Park be so far from Brooklyn?"

"Stephanie!" I hear my foster mom, Michelle, yelling from the other room, not sounding happy, "is that you I hear?"

"Yes?" I yell back hesitantly.

"Get your ass down here and get me and my friends some drinks."

"My friends and I." I say, not thinking I was loud enough for her to hear.

"What was that?"

"Coming!" I yell, slipping off my jacket and running out of my room.

I go down the hall to the main room to find Michelle and her "friends" sitting around a table with masks over their mouths, cutting drugs and bagging them for James to sell.

James was Michelle's drug dealer "boyfriend". He's only with her just so he can use her house and service for her little drug operation, and get laid.

"Stephanie!" James says as I come into view in the main room. He walks over to me, backing me up against the wall. "Lookin' good sweetheart." James says to me, playing with my hair.

"Hi James." I say, rolling my eyes and pushing away from his grasp.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asks, anger in his voice, as he grabs my arm so I can't move away from him.

"To get you and your friends a drink." I say harshly, "Or would you rather get it yourself?"

He huffs and pushes me away from him and goes back over to the table to check on the work his "ladies" we're doing.

I roll my eyes at him again and go into the kitchen, opening the ice chest and grabbing as many beers as I could hold and bring them back into the other room, setting on the table, being careful not to mess up anything.

"Thank you sweetie." James winks at me, grabbing a beer. "You're free to go now." He tells me, as if he was in control of me.

As I get to my room, I throw my long hair up into a bun and change out of my skinny jeans and shirt into some simple sweat pants and a tank top.