Volume V: The Tragic End of Treason

Part 1 - I am. Myself. // Chapter 1: The Caged Tiger

I don’t know how it happened, it just kind of…did. You ever wake up one day, and go out into the world, and you look around and you end up somewhere else? And you look around and you wonder how the fuck you got there. Ever have that happen to you? Maybe. Anyways, how the hell did I get involved in what happened? I don’t know, but somehow I ended up with a psycho cursing me off for hours on end in my room. How the hell did she get there, you ask? Well now, that’s a good question…

            Her name was Dev. She was the leader of the local gang, or so I imagine. How she ended up in my bed, well, see…I’m not sure. Well, I might be. I should go back and think about it. There was a fight, I remember that much. I’m not in any gangs, I don’t care much for them, and I’ve outgrown the time where I’d care about youth. Wait - once you get out of the teens, life will become real. My father told me that childhood ends when you come to accept and understand the one true fact that is inescapable – you’re going to die. So anyways…the fight, there was a fight, naturally. There are always fights outside the shop, always. The Black Dragon’s been standing for years; it has stood pain and grief, anger and hate. It’s changed hands a few times, but nothing severe. It was constant, one of the few things to remain. The legends and stories still survive, they live with it, and the gangs are proof of that. When the great leaders fell, new ones would step up and take their place. The latest was led by a girl, a girl to take the place of generations of males. Isn’t that grand? Now, where was I? Her, bed, yeah, let me explain.

            Fight. There was a fight. And she got the life beaten out of her. Now, I was sauntering along minding my own business when I saw the remains of the scene. The rest of her group had left her there; I think there was a betrayal at work here. She was trying to get up and, failing miserably, she collapsed on the ground. Now, I was ready to just keep going when someone came out of absolutely nowhere and took a hold of my shoulder. It was a figure, decked in black from head to toe, no distinguishable facial traits, nothing. And they pointed to the figure in the alley. And I kind of…assumed what they wanted me to do. I helped her up and took her home. Home, that’s funny. I’m moving too fast I imagine. Maybe, slightly.

            So the phantom came from nowhere and pointed out the fallen soldier, and I picked her up and took her home. Home is where I live, it’s a big open place, I live with a roommate who comes and goes, but we’ll get into him later. So I carried her; she was all kinds of difficult, punched me a bunch of times the entire way home. She was a pain in the ass. Yelling and screaming, how I managed to get her back without being arrested, I’m not sure. Come on, it does look suspicious, me, carrying a screaming teenager home who’s bleeding and broken…wouldn’t you ask questions? Maybe. I had her wrapped in my coat, it was kind of cute, it you stood back, tilted your head…maybe. So I took her home like I was supposed to, laid her down, and left her alone. I locked her in my room - she tore the place apart. Bull in a china shop…

            So anyways, that’s how we ended up with the kid in the bedroom. My roommate came home, heard the racket in my room, shook his head, and went back outside. I was having a slight breakdown of my own. The kid hasn’t slept yet, she won’t sit still, she’s been in there breaking things for what feels like days, it’s only been hours. Hours. She’s tearing my life apart in hours. What the hell did I get myself involved in? You know how sometimes something in your mind tells you to do something when common sense tells you not to? It’s…illogical, but you do it anyway? That’s how things worked. It was raining too. I sat at the window and listened, watched, and time faded away, everything went away. My life four feet away wasn’t being torn apart by a violent teenager. She wasn’t bleeding and broken. I hadn’t forcibly taken her in on a whim. What the hell happened to my life?

            One of those fly by moments…life is, you know? It’s a series of fly by moments. One right after another, arranged randomly. Maybe…I sulked around the apartment until I found my roommate’s pack of cigarettes and lit one up. After a moment of coughing, things shifted into perspective. I never bought my own packs, I’d kind of…well…mooch off of my roommate. The fellow has a name and everything, but we’ll talk about him when he comes back. Granted that he does come back…