Night Of The Hunter

Ghost Of The Past

26.

Growing up, Eric had his fair share of run ins with bad people of the neighborhood. Unfortunately, I found out just before we broke up, which was one of the reasons why I ended our relationship. His parents were drug addicts, leaving him to work at a young age to take care of his little sister, Stacey. But it wasn't enough money. His mother died when he was thirteen, leaving the two of them with a job-less and abusive father. 

When we were younger, we used to play at the park. My parents would invite Eric and his sister over for meals whenever we seen them. Before graduating from middle school, I seen Eric with a bruised eye and a swollen lip. As his friend, I asked him what had happened and he told me he was protecting his sister from their father. I didn't know what else to do besides tell my own father. Right after the ceremony, my father escorted Mr. Cooper away from the school, giving him his own broken face. Later that night, Eric and Stacey spent the night. That was the last night they had to fear their father.

It wasn't my father who killed him, a drug deal gone wrong apparently. Child services were called and Eric and Stacey were placed in a foster home nearby. We both went to high school together, Eric and I becoming closer throughout the years until he finally asked me to be his girlfriend when we were fifteen. He was my first crush, my first boyfriend and my first kiss. Our relationship only lasted a few months until I found out he was selling drugs with a local gang. Everything about him changed, his attitude, his demeanor. He wasn't the Eric Cooper I grew up with it, the kid I said yes to for prom and to be his girlfriend. When I caught him having sex with a supposed friend of mine in a hangout he made, an abandon house, I knew the Eric I knew was long gone and going down a dark road, and it wasn't the guy I wanted to be with.

Eric still wasn't the kid I knew. Staring at the dirty mattress that laid in the corner of the booze and cob-webbed room, a rush of memories came shooting back at me. I hated it. Never thought I'd be in this neighborhood, let alone this house again. It still looked the same. Graffiti on the paint-chipped walls, dirt, dust, bugs. It was the very same place he tried to take my virginity too. How classy. I sure know how to pick 'em.

I looked to the ash tray that sat by the bed, next to the bottle of booze that has just a drop left. He had been here in the last few hours, I knew that. Well, I hoped so. Looking out the window, the sun was gone now. Just a few street lamps were the only thing giving off light to the outside world. Where would a guy that was in hiding be at this hour? Given the large amounts of bottles on the floor around the bed,  I suppose a bar.

Walking to the car that I parked across the street, my eyes spotted a guy I remember from the neighborhood when I was younger, sitting on his stoop, smoking a cigarette as he watched me exit the house. I noticed his eyes were scanning my body, as if trying to picture what I looked like underneath my black t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans. I unlocked my car, and looked at the guy who blew out a puff of smoke, his brown eyes never leaving my face.

"You know where he is?" I asked him.

"Who?"

"Don't play stupid with me." I scrunched my brows, eyeing his arms that were decorated with tattoo's. A bit hard to see against his dark brown skin, but I made a few out to be local gang tatts.

The guy huffed, inhaling his cancer stick before standing up, walking down the four stairs and leaned against the metal gate that separated us. "You a cop or something?"

"No, I'm not a cop." I folded my arms across my chest. "Just looking for Eric. He's in trouble."

He snorted now, flicking his cigarette butt past my head and into the curb. "When isn't he?" He muttered, his eyes searching my face as he looked hard at me. "You look familiar."