Alone in the Streets of London

IV

1.

I feel my breath catch in my throat. I walk up to him, he has a deep gash on his forward and there is blood covering his face. I gently grab his arm. His reaction is delayed but when his eyes focus they widen with fear. I kneel down next to him and help him sit up. "do you want me to drive you home?" He looks down, thinking about how he should respond. He looks up and we lock eyes, he is staring into me, water fills his eyes and shakes his head no. "no?" he breaks down, "No no no, please don't make me go back there" he has tears streaming down his face. "Let me take you back to my place, you can get cleaned up and have some breakfast." He nods. I've never seen him show emotion besides not caring, I want to help him, I can feel his pain, he trusted me with his pain. I grab his arm to help him up, he is shaky on his feet and one step in he collapses onto me. I catch him and he is out cold. I practically drag him to my car. Hoping I can help him.

2.

The last thing I remember is breaking down in front of Mr. Duckworth. I don't know why i broke down. I can normally hold everything in. I guess I was tired and the way he looked at me, it was like he really cared. I feel like I can trust him.

I peel my eyes open. I feel like I could sleep forever right now. I don't remember how I got here but I am assuming this is Mr. Duckworth's place. It is small and cozy. I am on a couch with a huge blanket thrown over me. I lean up on my elbows. I look around to take in my surroundings. I see pictures of a younger Mr. Duckworth with friends and family. As I am looking around I hear footsteps and he walks out of a doorway on the phone, "ya sorry for the late notice but there is no way I can teach today, I just need to sleep and get ride of the headache... ya.. okay that works.. thanks see you tomorrow!" He closes his phone and looks over at me, a smile spreads across his face. "Oh good you're up." He walks over and helps me sit up. Spots immediately cloud my vision "wow easy there" he says softly as he steadies me. "Let me get you something to eat, when did you last eat something?" I try to clear my throat but end up coughing and making it worse, my voice sounds like a smoker's "Monday morning before school.." His eyes widen with shock "you haven't eaten sinse yesterday morning!?" I shake my head no. "Well lets fix that" he stand up and walks through another door way. I want to follow him but I don't trust my feet yet.

3.

I've never seen him this bad before. I can't believe he hasn't eaten sinse yesterday, and he said it so nonchalantly its like he is used to it! And the way he acted when I mentioned home, it sends shivers down my back. I pop some bread in to oven and turn the tea pot on. I walk back to the telly room and see him staring at his feet. He looks up at me, "Mr. Duckworth..." I cut him off "outside of school its Jon." He stumbles over his words "o-ok Jon, umm.. thank you for doing this, I know you didn't have to, and.." "No, but I wanted to, you're a great guy and you deserve better than you're getting." He looks at his feet again, he mumbles something that I can't make out, "what was that?" He looks up at me and there are tears in his eyes again. "I do deserve this, I am a piece of shit, I don't do anything and there is no way I ever will. I am stuck." The way he talks breaks my heart, I walk over to him and sit next to him on the couch, "look, I don't know what you're going through, but I know you. You are brilliant and sweet and you have huge potential. I don't care who has been telling you other wise but you have a great future in front of you." When he doesn't reply I continue, "who has been telling you these things?" He sniffles "my dad." I don't know how to respond. No parent should ever put their children down. They should push them towards their dreams and expect to much from them, not expect nothing from them. "He's lying." "you don't know him," "I don't need to know him, he probably does nothing with his time, right?" He nods "see. he is putting you down because he is jealous of what he knows you could someday be. He is a proud man who can't stand the thought of his son making it out better than him. You know what you have to do?" he shakes his head, "You have to make something of yourself, prove him wrong. Make yourself untouchable." He looks up at me, he croaks "how?" I smile at him, "With my help!"