Follow Your Dreams - An MC Story

Chapter 1

"Hey kid, what do you think you're doing?" I hear a deep gravelly voice demands from behind me; instantly stilling me in my actions of digging through the trash cans behind a home I thought was empty, searching for something to eat.

Silently turning around with my eyes screwed tightly shut; afraid to face the man behind me and what he'll do; "I asked you a question, kid," the male voice asks again; this time kinder but still holding authority.

Inhaling deeply as I swallow thickly against the rising bile in my throat;
"I-I uh, I-I'm e-eating s-sir."

Hanging my head from shame and embarrassment at my words and actions and the man in front of me surprised reaction on his rugged features that are illuminated under a street lamp. My throat tightens as the stomach acid and stale food churns in my stomach as I projectile vomit everything out of my stomach onto the ground, onto my shaggy-tattered shoes and onto my equally ratty clothing; furthering my embarrassment.

Through my dry heaves, my fuzzy brain notices big hands rubbing my back as the man calmly and soothingly says to me; "Easy does it kid; calm down and just let everything out, you're going to be fine."

Tears drip down my face as I straighten while I wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand quietly stuttering; "T-thank y-you, s-sir."

"No problem kid," he assures me with a gentle pat on my shoulder with an airy chuckle; "What's your name by the way kid?"

As I stare at him silently, trying to decide if I should lie or be honest with this guy; "Um, L-liam."

"Good to meet you Liam, I'm Black Jack."

Raising an eyebrow at his name, thinking that his name is unusual; giggling at him lightly asking; "You're your name really Black Jack?"

He smirks at me as he shrugs; "No but it's my nickname that I go by; so why are you eating food out of my garbage can and be honest with wit me because I will know if you're lying?"

Hanging my head to where my chin is touching my boney chest murmuring; "I'm hungry that's all."

"Kid, why aren't you eating at home with your family?" Black Jack carefully demands; as if he is worried I will bolt or stop talking.

"Um b-because I d-don't l-live w-with my f-family," I whisper; completely terrified of his next question.

"Well why not because I'm pretty damn sure you are not old enough to live on your own."

The tears that had stopped are now back with a vengeance; "I-I l-live on m-my o-own; h-have b-been f-for t-the l-last t-two y-years. I-I'm 17 y-years o-old."

Black Jack's face falls for a split second before he schools his expression back to neutral; "Why, did you runaway or something?"

Frowning as I harshly wipe my face free of my tears, shakily admitting; "I-I w-was ki-kicked o-out b-because I-I'm g-gay. M-my p-parents d-don't a-agree s-since it g-goes a-against t-their b-beliefs."

Black Jack is silent, too silent that I start to believe that he is repulsed by me like my parents are. He quietly asks as he studies my face; "Liam, where are you living now?"

"I-I'm l-living in an a-alley," I mumble still afraid he is going to scream profanities and slurs at me while beating me.

"You've been on your own for the last two years by living in an alley since you were 15 years old and how are you eating?" he asks surprised and angry.

Nodding in fear that if I speak now I will either vomit again, cry or both as I shrug at his question; "Alright, come on kid," he gruffly replies taking my elbow into his big hand softly as he leads me toward the front entrance of the home.