This story will be in 4 POV's, and takes place in 1964. I hope you guys enjoy! ~Mel
Mike's POV
Sometimes I wonder about the night sky. I mean, I would jump out of the attic window and crawl out to the roof, which scraped my knees pretty rough. I would stretch out here, my face towards the sky and look out. The city lights shone so brightly near the horizon. It was mighty pretty on those summer nights, and still nobody noticed. Not anyone in this town that I know.
I spent an awful lot of time in the attic. It was my room in our small house, my parents just left me up here. A 16 year old should have the chance to go around with friends in the town, but not when my parents are home I can't go no where. What bull crap. I can't wait to move out of here, get some freedom. I only had one brother, who was going to college in California. We wasted all this money just so we could get him to go to college. "He needs a good education," my parents would say, as if they cared. I don't think they'll do that for me. I'm smart and all, but my brother was something special. "Academically gifted" his teachers said. Big deal. I don't think I want to follow his choice.
I don't have much friends. Most of them are middle class, average. The rich kids were the worst, always shouting "Greaser!" at me. I'm just from a low class neighborhood, and they use that against me. I mean, most kids my age around me who live on the eastside are total hoods, robbing stores, all that stuff. I don't get fun out of that, it doesn't interest me.
My idea of fun right now? Getting the hell outta here. My parents don't really have a set of family values. My dad- well, he's a drunk, and has been ever since we moved from our old house. Mom was a free spirit. Every night she goes to some neon club downtown to smoke cigarettes, as if she was a teen. Things weren't always this way. We used to have a decent house, a long drive away from here. We weren't smokin' rich, just middle class, but things were fine that way. My parent's were happy and I had friends. Of course, we had to give up alot of that just to pay for some fancy college. Don't ask me why, I'm not sure what was the point.
It's just me at home, with nothing good to do. It's June 29, and I need to get out of this house. This is my only chance, when my parents are gone. This is great. I walk down the steps of our small house. I sit for a second to smoke a cancer stick, my dark brown hair falling in my eyes. I have kinda cool eyes. They were faded green-blue, the color of stream water. My mom has hazel eyes, which show her lively behavior. They were reckless, something I didn't attribute from her. My dad has hard brown eyes, that were cold and unfeeling. Maybe they used to be lively. It's just not that way anymore.
Enough talking about me. I'm going to check out the scene downtown. It's early afternoon, and sunny with a little humidity. Maybe, there's some action. There almost always is.
Walking down Parker Street, you have a 99% chance of getting jumped by some kids with switchblades. That's a buzzkill. I keep my brother's old knife in my pocket, just in case. I also keep my head down so no one notices me. As I turn around the corner, I noticed one of those rich, privileged girls. She was sharp looking, all right. Those who live on the north side put great pride in showing their social class. Suddenly, she's walking in my direction. Huh, what does she want from me? She pushes past the pedestrians, her hair blowing in her face.
She smiles brightly at me. "Hey." She says excitingly.
Okay, odd. "Hi. Do I know you?"
She pops a bubble in my face. "I'm Chelsea, but my friends call me Shell. Your the new kid right?"
Isn't that how everyone knows me, "Is that how I'm known here? I'm Mike" Suddenly she starts pulling my arm, laughing to herself.
"Hey, where the hell you going? We just met a second ago, umm, Shell." Damnit. Now look what I got myself into. What's up with this girl, anyways?
"C'mon. I need to leave, stat. We're going to get someone who has a car and than get away from here. Maybe towards the country, that would be nice."
She pulls me towards the corner street Diner, where all the cool kids chill and hang out. "I don't have a car by the way. What about you? You're from the socially elite set, you must own a tuff mustang like that."
"I do, but there's a long story and I can't get it. I really hope I find someone other than you to hang out with. You're a pain."
"I'm a 16 year old with a logical sense. Did you ever think that running away might not help?"
"This can work out somehow, let's go."
And somehow I trusted her.
