Don't Play With Fire (Turks FFVII)

I) Slum Scum

Ducking under a punch aimed at my nose, I scramble away from my assailant, catching my balance on the hard-packed dirt with the tips of my fingers. My free hand clutches a stolen bag of chips to my body, its protesting crinkles and crunches buried beneath the shouting of the kids hot on my heels. My legs burn with a fire I've never known before, taking flight with a new speed I've never had the urgency to unlock. Jumping away from a desperate, finger-spreading grasp at my jacket, I slide through a narrow passage of leaning steal, hoping to lose them.

This stupid clown crew of urchins has been on my trail for as long as I can remember. Apparently, slipping cans of peaches into my pockets and cutting off girls' hair in their sleep didn't earn me many friends. When I make it back out into the open, one of the younger boys spots me. Panicked, I crush the chips closer to my body and run in the opposite direction, ducking past clusters of confused adults.

"There she is!" he cries.

"'Scuse me!" I cry, pushing a woman aside and turning sharply to the left into a darker, quieter street. I'm stopped quite abruptly.

"Got her!"

Choking, I squirm, digging my elbow back into the kid's ribcage. He laughs, dragging me further into the alleyway by the back of my collar. I kick at him and flail my arms, but it doesn't do me any good. Grunting, he throws me forward before a pair of dumpsters. I gasp for air, reaching up to touch my throbbing throat. The chips fall to the ground. Desperate, I reach to snatch them, but they're kicked away. A girl about my age crouches, grinning smugly.

"Hey, sweetums. What's up?" She rams the tip of her boot into my ribs and knocks me onto my back, pressing her shoe into my chest to slowly suffocate me. Panting, I scowl up at the sky, trying to devise a plan.

"Finally," another girl drawls, crossing her arms and shaking her head. Her obnoxiously pale hair catches the light and reveals the missing chunks I took my knife too. I can't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" the girl above me demands, pushing down harder. I cough, trying to push her shoe off my chest.

"Get off!"

"No can do." She glances at the boy and nods, pulling a dagger from her pocket. "You gotta pay."

"What're you doing?" I demand. My heart pounds even harder and I struggle again, scared.

"You stole," the boy shrugs, taking the knife from her hand and kneeling beside me. "Don't have time to do this right, so I think one finger will work, yeah?"

"What?" I wheeze, letting my head loll back and smack the dirt. No, no, no.

"Sounds good to me," the girl shrugs. "Besides, if we took the whole hand here, people'd see. Can't have that." She leans down and spits in my face, stomping on my hand when I lift it to hit her. I grit my teeth, screwing my eyes shut. Gods, that hurt.

"Keep quiet or we'll have to kill ya!" the younger girl cries.

"Missy!"

"Sorry."

I take a deep breath. Take it like a champ. It can't be that bad. The instant the dagger breaks my skin, I know that won't work.

"Stop!"

"Hey!" the girl frees my chest to stand on my throat. "Shut up!" Choking, I try to wrestle free, tears streaking down my cheeks as the blade slices through my palm.

"Heads up!"

Suddenly, the girl's foot is off my throat and the knife's searing blade is removed from my skin. Gasping for air, I roll onto my elbow to see what's going on. A flurry of red streaks past and the boy doubles over, spitting scarlet saliva from his mouth. Who the heck...? The knife catches the light just before it's buried deep into the girl's throat. Startled, I stumble to my feet, watching with horror as her blood sprays onto the dirt, turning it to murky red mud.