Newskids

Chapter 2: Run, Boy, Run

[Author Disclaimer; Blood, Death and a major "well that escalated quickly" moment.]

I was heading through the street, when I came across an alleyway I knew well. There was a fence separating the alleyway in half, disallowing people to cross through. An old woman lived on the other side of the fence, and I liked tossing her a paper when I came by. She never could afford to buy one, but I'd often throw her one, and Cat would buy bread from her. She made our food, we gave her the news. She was very kind.

I pulled a rolled up paper from my bag. It had a pink string that I had tied to it in the center. I placed it there, to make sure that I didn't sell that paper. I got a good grip on it and chucked it over the fence like a baseball. I heard it hit the pavement across the alleyway, and the door open from the old woman's shop, as the bell above the door chimed. She picked it up and I heard her shout "thank you!", before she walked back inside.

As I turned around, I spotted a man standing in the alley. He was wearing a mask, not allowing me to see his face, but I could see his fiery green eyes. He was thin, much taller than me and concealing something with his hand. My instincts told me not to trust this guy, and he was blocking my way out of the alley.

"Can I help you?" I asked, rather hesitantly.

He revealed the switchblade knife he was carrying and held out his hand.

"How much money you got, kid?"

I quickly looked through my bag and scooped all the coins out of the money pouch sewn inside. It was all the money I had made today, and I needed it, but I wasn't planning on getting stabbed. I stepped forward and cautiously placed my money into his hand. He palmed it, looking at the amount, and looked back at me.

"Is this it?" He asked, agitated.

"That's all I have."

"Don't lie to me, I'll cut you."

"That's it," I said, trying to convince him.

He growled in anger and raised his knife. I blacked out what happened next in my mind, and that might've been for the better. I guess I must've grabbed his knife from him and saved myself because next thing I knew, he was dead in the alleyway and there was blood trickling from his neck, and into the dirt.

I looked down at myself, and there was blood on my hands and vest. I quickly removed the vest, and dropped my bag on the ground, not thinking, as I just fell to my knees in shock, staring at the horror scene before me. I wiped the blood onto my vest that I now needed to burn and knew that I needed to get out fast. I can be arrested or worse-- killed for this, I doubt the cops will believe me if I say it was in self-defence. I noticed that my money was dropped all around him as he fell to the ground.

I quickly pocketed my money, grabbed my bloodstained vest, which I was quick to turn inside out, and ran. The town seemed much scarier, as people watched this teenage newsboy run through the streets. I couldn't imagine what it looked like, especially since none of them knew what happened quite yet. I got about two blocks away when a loud, blood-curdling scream of a woman broke the air and brought attention to her, and evidently, it drew attention to the kid running from that direction.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening. I thought, over and over and over again. What do I do? Where do I go? How do I get there? Will I survive this? A million questions flooded my mind as I wondered how I was planning to get myself out of this. I had a habit of planning after something happened. My mind likes to live in the future.

Coming up with a plan on the fly was a speciality of mine. That's how I survived with just Lynn for so long, even at how small we were. It's why each of us newskids has an area of Downtown Seattle we take because I planned them out. It's how we decided who shared rooms with who. Lynn and I were there the longest, and now that she's left, I'm the one who's remained longer than everyone else.