The Dying Generation

Chapter Thirty-Three

I was offered a hand by Alton while Sal was already walking out the door without him.
I brought myself up onto my feet and walked unsteadily across the roughish surface that was Alton's hand. As soon as I got to the center of his hand, I took a seat, crossing my legs. I instantly grabbed onto his fingers when he moved me away from the bed I was on. His nails were cut very short cut, and his skin was a bit of a rougher texture, his hands were a bit cold.

As he began to walk out the door, his fingers began to slowly curl around me, engulfing me in them. As he lowered me to a pocket of his jacket that he had just thrown on.

"Good morning, boys." A women's voice greeted.
"And Alton, I haven't gotten to see much of you while you were here. How was your night?"

"Fine." Alton answered her.

"Just help yourself at the table, the bacon will be done shortly." Sal's mother said sincerely.

Is this the same women? Sal's Mother? Her voice sounds the same but this women sounds so much.... Nicer than the one I would always hear yelling at Sal.

I had to shift myself when Alton began to take a seat, I put my hands up to try to push the fabric of the pocket out of my face so I could better see. In that second, Alton's hand that held me in place, tilted.

I inhaled sharply as his hand did this motion, I slipped backwards, off of his hand, but remained in the pocket. I tumbled backwards, like a backwards summersault. The 'ground' of the pocket was way more unstable and a bit uncomfortable. I suppose depending on the position you're in. I looked up and watched as Alton's gigantic hand leave the small area and disappeared all together. I attempted to grab at the pocket but could barely get a proper hold of anything. I tried to push myself up onto my feet, stumbling a bit.

"So, Alton, how's your Father?" I could hear the women ask casually. She clearly has no idea about the wanted people she is currently holding. Well, especially me.

I could feel Alton stiffen slightly at her question.
He hesitated to answer her.
"He's okay."

"Do you need to go back to see him anytime soon? When do you plan to go back home?"
I could hear the loud sizzle of the bacon cooking and the scrapping of silverware on glass plates.

"Um.. I didn't plan a time yet. He's really busy with his studies and he wanted some time alone to get his work done." Alton said through a mouthful of food.

I looked up to the roof of the pocket like I could still see him. I slowly shook my head at him, knowing that was a full out lie. But what choice did he have? He couldn't just say that he stole a test subject from his Dad's work place and is now wanted by the police.

"Studies, huh?" She responded.
"Hm, little strange for Cedric to kick you out like that but I suppose anything to get his work done. He is defiantly a hard working man."

As I tried to stand in Alton's jacket's pocket, I could feel it's walls closing in on me. It was near making me feel uncomfortable, confined. When Alton would keep his hand in here with me, it would really open it up more. But now, I felt I was being swallowed alive by it.

Within that very second, I lost my footing. Falling backwards, moving my foot the wrong way and aggravating the injury I had just healed from. The pocket swung lightly from my sudden slip up.

I tried to hold in a whine in response to the little pain I had felt in my ankle. Not wanting to  run the chance of the woman hearing me. I bared my teeth, trying to reach up to grab my ankle. I struggled a bit to sit back up since I had fallen on my back. I really did feel like I was being swallowed into the darkness of the fabric, I squirmed a bit until I got myself into an upright sitting position.