The Truth

Chapter 3

-Jack-

     (20 hours earlier)

     I sit on the rooftop of an abandoned grocery store, extremely grateful that the cold weather is behind us. All I can see are the buildings stretching out along the horizon and the gorgeous brick wall next to me. My stomach growls, a sound I've grown accustomed to hearing.

     "I told you, I had the money, but someone stole it." a voice breaks through the cool night air, and I freeze. It's right behind me.

     "You are a f***ing liar. I brought your drugs, now GIVE ME MY MONEY!!!" a second, deep voice yells. I flinch and crawl around to the corner to take a look. Two figures are standing just beyond the stream of light coming from an old emergency bulb. One man is holding a bag, the drugs I assume, and the other is empty-handed.

     "G-give me a second chance. P-please." the second boy shakes and if he wasn't buying drugs I would have felt sorry for him.

     "No, this was your second chance." the man with the deep voice says, and without hesitating, takes out a gun and shoots him. I gasp and the man turns in my direction, stepping into the light. He has a dark beard and a scar on his lower-lip that runs down his jaw and neck.

     "You didn't see anything, boy." he raises his gun and I dive beind the corner a second before it goes off. "Come back here, now!" he yells and I shudder; it's not the first time those words have been said to me in that way.

     I throw open the door to the staircase and race down the stairs with him right behind me. He continues shooting at me but I move in a zig-zag motion, making it nearly impossible for him to hit me. Nearly.

     Just as I hit the ground floor, his last bullet hits my arm. I grit my teeth and try not to scream in pain. Clutching my arm, I run out of the store and into the empty street. By the light of the street-lamps I'm able to duck behind a building and hide as he runs by, still yelling for me to come back.

     After what seems like hours I stand up, and the full agony of my wound hits me. My eyes tear up and I look down, ripping my shirt off. It was just a graze, so there was no bullet in there. I curse, and rip my shirt apart, making a bandage.

     After walking for awhile I come to the busier part of the city, and have to hide in the shadows so people don't call the police on me. In an empty neighborhood I find a closed store that sells clothes and food.

     "I'm sorry." I apologize to no one and break in without setting the alarm off. I almost smile as I realize how good I've gotten at that, but then I realize that's not a good thing. I go to the bathroom and wash off my arm. Finding a real bandage and some medicine, I bite my lip as I fix myself up. Stealing some food, I shove it in my backpack and some other clothes too.

     Finally, I head to the office, erase all the video tapes, and sneak out the back. After finding a safe place to sleep for the night, which just happens to be the flower-bed of an expensive house, I take exactly three bites of my sandwich and a small sip of water. I almost want to cry at how hungry I am but crying won't change anything and crying is for children.

     I fall asleep in the flower bed, ignoring the pains in my arm and stomach.

    I wake up to the sound of sirens coming increasingly closer. I sit up and see a family staring at me wide-eyed in their PJ's. They must have called the cops on me. I see two squad cars pull around the corner and jump out of the bed, racing across lawns, around the corner, and into the heart of the city.

     Once I feel safe, I walk around picking flowers from my hair and avoiding the gaze of girls that stare as I walk by. I don't understand why they always look at me, but I assume today it's because I'm full of flowers. I finally pluck off the last flower and smooth my hair down when I see her.

     She's a beautiful girl with blonde hair tied up in a messy bun. She's smelling the flowers on the Cherry Blossom Trees and reading the sign. I walk over and lean on the railing, putting my hands in my pockets, studying her clear blue eyes. Her smile seems to light up her face and she acts like a child, even though she has to be around my age.

     The boy she's with reaches up to pluck a flower for her and I'm overwhelmed with jealousy that he's granted the pleasure of her attention.

     "I wouldn't do that if I were you." I say....