The Founder of CoD saved me from a Bullet

Chapter 5

"She wears high heels, I wear sneakers, she's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers.

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time...Why the hell am I singing this?" I ask as I turn down the volume.

I sigh, and park the car in an empty Market Basket parking lot.

It makes me think about my old job. It was a good job, I think. The manager was an elderly woman, and she was one of the nicest, most genuine people I have ever met. Most of my coworkers were dicks, though. It's strange how people can be so snobby about working in a Market Basket, practically earning less than minimum wage.

I look at my phone, scrolling through the contacts to find someone I can room with for a while.

Mom: no.

Chay: absolutely not. Note to self: figure our when his phone number ended up in your phone.

Cath: tried that. Where the hell is she? Troy knows something. I know he does.

Sammy: I think she moved to Florida.

I sigh heavily. I pound the steering wheel with my fist.

Honk!

Shit, that was stupid.

A second later, I hear tapping on my window and being extremely irritable, glare out the window to see who's there.

My face softens when I see a boy a couple years older than me wearing a worried expression. I get out of the car and realize he is holding something wrapped in a blanket. It looks like a kid, probably around four.

"Help," the guy says, "please."

He has brownish-black hair, a farmers' tan, and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose.

"Okay...what's the problem? I might be able to help," I say hopefully.

"May I?" he asks, motioning to my car and then to the child.

I nod.

He opens the door to the back seat and sets the child he was holding down. Now that I can get a better look, I notice that it is a young girl with curly black hair and cute freckles on her nose. A splitting image of the boy.

"What happened?" I ask, turning to the black-haired boy.

"There was a dog attack. We were walking to the grocery store to buy food and a stray dog was sitting on the sidewalk. My little sister loves dogs, so she ran over to pet it and got attacked. See for yourself."

I move to the small girl and now I see a huge gash in her leg and a scratch down her forearm where the dog must have attacked.

"Okay, okay. I think I know what to do." I sigh nervously. "Why didn't you call your parents?"

"They're dead," he answers and looks down.

Peering back up at me with gray eyes, he asks, "can you help me, please? She's the only family I have left," the guy begs.

"Hop in, quick. She's bleeding a lot," I say.

He gets in and I speed off.

"What's your name?" I question.

"Brandon Hunter, and my sister's Suzzie," Brandon answers.

"Okay. Take my phone," I say, reaching back to hand it to him, "and call 911."

"No! I can't afford a hospital! Please, there has to be somewhere else you can take her. She's hurt!" I can tell that he is close to tears.

"Okay, fine." I suck up my dignity and dial in a number. "There's one more place we can go."

The phone rings. Once. Twice.

"Hello?" he picked up.

"Hi, Chay. Listen..." I trail off as I begin to tell him that I'm coming over. Right. Now.

wooooo