Jack White

One

Jack White

One

I used to think that the world was dead in the mornings. That it only woke up when it hit mid day...when the sun rays poured onto the earth at its highest point. Of course...I used to think that everyone I loved would stay here forever. But my awakening to the truth was both all too brutal and violently unfair. It became all too real when I watched my drug addicted mother get ripped to pieces by the monster I feared most...by my only nightmare...my father. He came one night in his drunken state which was worse than usual, complaining that she had been sleeping around with other men. Fact was...she was...and sadly she had no issue finally admitting it to her abuser. My father didn't take this too kindly, he beat her bloody and took out his Swiss Army knife.

He put the blade her mouth and cut a "smile" that was ear to ear. When he was done he slit her throat. Lifeless and bloody as her body dropped to the ground. Though I can't say reality of her dying left me broken beyond repair, she never wanted me...that was clear. She only ever said "I love you" when I was young. Once I became eight her love for me died off. My mother wanted the idea of baby not the work of a human being. She didn't want a teenager...young man...she only wanted the baby and maybe the child. And my father made sure to remind me every moment he could that I was the biggest mistake he could have ever made. That I...was the oh so lucky sperm that broke free from the cheap condom he wore that day.

Why this wasn't titled as murder...I question it every day. Maybe he hid the body all too well and had a well thought lie for anyone who asked. And I...I was too young and traumatized to say otherwise. My mother...she wasn't a vile person. I mean at least for the years I really needed her she was there. And maybe by her decrease of love for me...it was her way of pushing me out of the nest. Mind you eight is too young to be pushed our of the nest. Although I don't remember one nice moment with my father. Maybe when I was young he still had a heart. Maybe he cared at some point in my life...but I wouldn't know. Though...his lack of love grew a deep dark hatred in my heart for him. So of course when it came time for my drunken waste of father to fall to his death it didn't hurt at all. Maybe some part of me wished I was the one who pushed him in front of that truck that day.

Fourteen with no parents...then again it wasn't like I really had any for those fourteen years. My older sister...she used me as an object to "up" her social status. As the cute little brother to auction off to her friends. Of course she loved the title of what an "elder sister" presented. When the time came for my needs of her wisdom...she was nowhere to be found. She spent her time in clubs and parties. She was a whole seven years older than me. Which by the look of the age gap, it always made me feel like my father was right about me being a mistake. She stayed with too many men, and shopped away most of her money. She wasn't a roll model...not one I wished to follow. Doing offside jobs for thugs and gangs, she in with dangerous people. When the time came for her...it was well deserved. She herself got in with the wrong crowd of people and once her so called "services" were done, they pretty much "offed" her. Her so called "man" was actually more like a double agent. Informing for two gangs at once, then again so was she. Only she wasn't so good at it, and one gang found out. Hired her boyfriend to kill her...he did. So maybe he never really loved her and all he wanted was a reason to look stable.

Sixteen with no living relative. No one left to call "family". I wasn't heartless...I did cry at their funerals...and maybe after my sister died I truly felt the meaning of a broken heart. But...I never had a family...even when they were physically around. I was always on my own mentally...and now physically. I still remember the day that when Ryan Berneaky had the audacity to tell me "get over it". He couldn't possibly understand how I felt...no one could. How could I have any remorse for a group of people who shared the same DNA as me...yet felt nothing for me. Ryan had the luxury to go home to his loving parents who would give him the world if he asked for it. He had an elder brother who was proud of anything his younger brother accomplished.

And yet...I didn't have this. I never had this. I wanted this. I can never have this. Now eighteen years old and not a thing has changed. Maybe I've become a little taller, and my voice has deepened a bit, my arms and body labeled with ink. It's not that I haven't tried to be normal...I've tried...but when the topic gets to "family" mine is always...avoided. I'm an orphan...and the fake love my ten foster families had tried to shower on me didn't feel right. So I left town. I bought a train ticket that would take me far away. I must say this was the longest train ride I had ever ridden. I came to a new one. One they called "Gotham". A darker city, one with less sun light and more rain. With pickpockets all around and dealers trying to make a quick buck. I could see that where I was headed was not a pretty lit path. But this was a city that no one preformed a background check on you. They only believed what you say unless you say otherwise.

-

It worked out well. No one digging around my past...and my nightmares could stay dormant. Some say I'm too young to have this much heart break...others...like Ryan...could've cared less. But I wasn't here looking for long lost sympathy, I just wanted a fresh start. And sadly for this fresh start...I needed money, I needed it soon. Moving to a new city far from my old home cleaned out my wallet fast. I didn't have any special skills..nothing that drew me from the crowd. And no matter how I thought of money the only way was to take it. But that was easier said than done. No one looked like cheap easy prey, and I wasn't a strong built guy. I could sit on the sidewalk bench pondering for days if nothing came to mind. I didn't have much on me, nothing anyone would kill me for. I took out my pack of cigs and started lighting a fresh cigarette..."my last one" I always thought. Sucking in the bitter flavour and puffing out the mini smoke cloud. There was something about the awful taste or maybe the persona it put off...something wouldn't let me stop. Wearing only a black t-shirt, black Levi's, and black converse high cut shoes, That was about all I had for clothes. I had a sweater and couple other shirts in the black Jansport bag on my back.

I began looking around. Paying close attention to things that could easily be missed. Watching the most suspicious people. The muggers...the pickpockets...even some beggars they were skilled. Robbing people without them feeling a thing. And the muggers...the way the put fear into their victims eyes...it was glorious. And certain beggars even worked in groups to steal their own cash. An idea sparked in my mind. One that would land me with enough money to last awhile. I walked around for while, using my last bits of change on cheap beer and packs of cigarettes. "Nothing better to do but drink and smoke" I thought. I realized no one in this part of the city had the type of cash I needed. I needed enough to get me started...pay for a apartment, maybe some food too. Money to keep up for awhile, and that wasn't here. In front of a loud packed club I saw parked cars and a line of motorcycles. I think my better chance would be with the motorcycles. I began checking them. For forgotten keys and open compartments. I grabbed any loose money and valuables, things that were useful and worth cash.

Until I came across what I had been looking for. Some poor sap had left the keys to his motorcycle seat compartment of his grey Suzuki. Slowly I pushed the keys in the ignition and roared up the bike. Hopefully the guy who stupidly made this huge mistake wouldn't notice until I was long gone. I drove far into city, asking for directions to the most expensive area of the city. Many gave me the dirtiest look they could muster because the maybe I wasn't dressed with look of association. As I inhaled the sweet scent of wealth I could feel myself losing money. This was the place. Swanky suits and elegant dresses, hair styles and perfumes that probably were worth more than I. My eyes scanned over my options and they were quite slim. The very important...high status...had body guards. These were big beefed guys that I had no chance getting past.

So I needed to go cheaper. The rich that walked alone. Not the play boys surrounded by women, but the lone weaker millionaires. All I had was my Swiss Army knife, so if worse came to worse I had a weapon. And yes...this is the very same Swiss army links that belonged to my father...the one he killed mother with. Hopefully I wasn't bringing a knife to a gun fight. I decided on my prey, I followed a man who maybe a couple years older than me down a the dark ally he choose to take. I laughed at him in my head, he clearly was a fool. Dark allies at this time of night was no place for a vulnerable person. And by the looks of this man he seemed nervous. Like deep in the back of his mind he knew he made a bad decision. This man walked into a building...and let me just say that was not part of my plan. I had no intention of following his man to Narina.

For all I know he could be an undercover cop trying to real in criminals. Of course all these thoughts had arrived only when I stopped in front of the building the man entered. Dare I follow? Dare I potentially walk straight to my doom? Shit.