Shackled and Broken

HELP

              I didn't know where to go.  I was completely alone at this point. If I go back home, Prudence would surely find me. If I went back to the gang for help, they would surely shoot me! If I went back to Prudence and begged for mercy, well that would be the worst idea I have had so far. I couldn't get any of my neighbors stuck in with this so...  I stopped and panted. My breath came out as a soft mist from the cold air. Damn it! Where do I go? Do I start a new life? Change my name and- I would need someone who knows how to do that... Shit!        

        I made my way down a dark alley, limping as I walked. I had the hood Jasper gave me over my head so that no one could see my bruised face. If they did, they might call 911 about a bloody and beaten kid running the streets. People take that kind of shit pretty seriously here. I stumbled and tripped over my own feet, landing in dust. I coughed a few times, but my body refused to stand. I left myself panting heavily on the floor.

      "You aright, sonny?" An old man spoke. I whipped my head to the left and saw an old homeless looking man staring at me. "You a runner?"        
        "R-runner?"        
        "Yeah. Are you an outlaw?"        
        "A criminal? No, not really, but a runner..." I stood shakily, resting my weight on my knees. "I guess you could call me that..."        
        "Are you runnin from the bastard who gave you them beatins?" I pulled the hood further over my head. "Yeah..."        
        "C'mre," he said, holding out a hand to me. I stared at his hand, the old man, then back at his hand. He chuckled wheezily, "I promise I don't bite."  Cautiously, I took his hand and he pulled me in to sit next to him, wrapping a dirty blanket around me. "You folks do this to you?" I shook my head, "I was raised in a gang."        
        "You one of them binky babe gun slingers, eh?"  He chuckled.       
        "Excuse me?"        
        "Raised to be a bad boy! Did some bad things in your past I bet. That's how you got dem beatins. Cause the past caught up witcha?" I was silent with my head down low. The old man grunted, "Eh. I don't care what ya did, son. We all have things we regret. Some more than others."         
        "Although, unlike other people, they have some where to go to feel safe.  A shelter... The police... I can't go to any of those places without being killed... I'm not ready to die yet." He stared at me with strict eyes. "Well you got some where now!" He exclaimed. I stared up at him, confused. "What's your name, son?"        
        "S-Seth..."        
        "Seth, you got a child's eye. You strong?"        
        "Yes, for the most part, but right at this moment, not so much."        
        "Well, good! You're gonna need that living in allies like dis. Having a child's eyes attracts many predators. If you know what I mean. My name's Bruce, by the way." I smirked, "thank you, Bruce." Slowly and silently, my head bobbed and I fell asleep with no more energy to give myself.

        Morning came quicker than it usually felt.
        "Wake up, sonny!" My eyes fluttered open as blinding day light greeted my vision. "I fell asleep?"        
        "Ya sure did! On my shoulder no less!" I flushed, "sorry."         
        "Not to worry. Here," he said, handing me an apple, "eat." I took the apple from him and held it. "Did you pick this from the trash?" He laughed hoarsely, "not this time! Little Becky came around and passed out food!"         
        "Becky?"        
        "Hi, Bruce!" A girl with flaming red hair greeted cheerfully. She walked up to him and gave him a hug. "How are you?"        
        "Just fine, sweetheart! Thanks for the food! All the other will be lovin it too!" She giggled, but stopped when she noticed me. I looked away from her. "Are you okay?"                
        "Careful, Becky. This one's a scared stray." He said with all seriousness. "Quiet Bruce. Hey," she cooed, "you should really go to a hospital or something." I shook my head, "don't need it."        
        "But your covered in cuts and bruises," she said, starting to reach for me, "you need to get checked out."        
        "I SAID, LEAVE ME ALONE," I yelled, smacking her hand away. She stared at me shocked and a bit scared. "I told ya, Becky. He don't wanna be touched. Scared strays don't wanna be touched and neither do he." She whipped glances from me to Bruce. "Okay," she sighed, rummaging around in her bag. It was colorful and bright, covered by butterfly designs. "You really need some help," she said, staring into my eyes as she tried to hand me something. I backed away, but noticed it was just bottled water. My gaze shifted away. I didn't care about the damn water, because she isn't touching me! She sighed worryingly as she placed it on the ground across from me. "Make sure you both drink plenty."        
        "Why thank you, young lady. God bless you."         
        "And you too." I rolled my eyes. If there was a God, he has a sick sense of humor. If God existed, I wouldn't be taken. I wouldn't have been raised by a gang. I wouldn't have raped Jasper. I wouldn't be sitting here bloody and beaten for something I did as an ignorant kid. A tear rolled down my cheek. "Ya know, you should be more kind to the girl."                 
        "I'm sorry if I came off as violent, but I would much rather be dead, Bruce." He chuckled humorlessly, "don't we all, son."