Sorry if the beginning's confusing. Jack's confused, so you're confused. :P
Disclaimer- I'm not one for repetitiveness, so this will be my only disclaimer throughout the story. Just keep in mind I don't own anything and never will.
Each chapter is a song, try listening to them while reading if you want.
Save me- Jem
The second Jack realized what he had done; he'd bolted from that house as fast as he could, slammed the door, and never looked back. Now, after running about three blocks, Jack sat huddled beside a telephone booth shaking, trying to protect himself from the wind.
There was no way he was going back to that house. The instant Mr. Parades had stepped through the front door; Jack knew what was going to happen. He'd been through the situation too often, each time trying to suppress the memory further, only to have it ripped back into plain view again in a week or so.
Jack entwined his fingers into his messy blonde hair and let out a small whimper, as he laid his head into his knees and tried to blank out all of his thoughts. He couldn't help but keep the gruff voice of his foster father from entering his mind, and all to soon, the afternoon's events came rushing before him all at once. Jack squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, breathing in tight, short gasps in a panic to repress the memories before they assaulted him.
He could feel the sweat running down from his forehead as he whipped his head around frantically, trying desperately to find an exit. Despite the heat of the house, Jack couldn't stop shaking as he backed himself slowly into the corner, avoiding looking into the eyes of Mr. Parades. Pain. He suddenly felt pain in his cheekbone, and then again in his left eye, as he was knocked down onto his back. Jack knew what came next. He squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, trying to block out everything that was happening, and held his breath.
"Look at me."
Hesitantly, Jack opened his eyes just long enough to lock with his foster father, before he was hit again on the left side of his face, knocking his head to the right, just enough so the coffee table was in plain view. Before Jack had time to think it over, he pulled his legs back and kicked Mr. Parades, who was now kneeling in front of him, in the chest, knocking the older man backwards. He then stumbled over to the coffee table and grabbed the gun, pointing it at Mr. Parades before the man had time to react.
Jack could feel his heart hammering against his chest as he tightened his grip on the gun, his index finger gripping the trigger angrily. Jack placed his other hand on the gun, for fear of dropping it he was shaking so badly.
"What the fuck is wrong with him?"
The piercing sound of a gunshot rang in Jack's ears, as he struggled to stand up. Someone was shaking him gently, and when he opened his eyes he was surrounded. He was backed up against a telephone booth, and there were three tough looking kids blocking his only exit.
One of them looked at him strangely before asking if he was alright, and Jack panicked. He kicked the smallest one in the balls, pushed past him, and tried to sprint away down the street.
Before Jack could escape however, he felt a strong pair of hands grab him around the waist and yank him back roughly towards his two other friends, one of which was still crouched over in pain. Jack hissed in pain from being grabbed around the waist and began to twist viciously, punch, and kick, to get out of his captor's hold, but whoever it was wasn't about to let go.
"Kid will you cut it out, I'm not going to hurt you!" The person yelled. He had managed to pin both Jack's arms at his side and hold him up in the air so that both his legs were swinging wildly around.
After a few minutes of this Jack went limp. He remembered that the more he struggled the worse he usually got it.
"What's your name?" The one holding him asked. Jack set his jaw and stared intently at the ground.
"C'mon Bobby let's just leave him, we got to meet Kas in like, 5 minutes." The smallest one said. Bobby just laughed.
"Charlie, you're just mad cause he kicked you in the nads." When Bobby said this, Jack lost his staring contest with the ground and glanced up fearfully at Charlie, trying to see how mad he really was.
"Where are you sleeping tonight kid?" Bobby asked, trying to make eye contact with Jack, who was staring at the ground again. Jack just shrugged his shoulders, and tried to get away again, but Bobby held him back.
"How old are you?" He asked, not exactly expecting an answer.
"Thirteen." Jack replied, causing Bobby to glance up at his two friends.
"Oh, so he does talk then!" He exclaimed in mock surprise, receiving a death glare from Jack. "May I ask what a thirteen year old is doing in these parts of Detroit, at, what is it? Almost ten, by himself?" He asked.
"No." Jack replied.
"You know what guys?" Bobby continued, "I think I'm finally gonna listen to Ma. She's always bringing these street kids home; I'd be makin' her proud."
Charlie was staring at Bobby in disbelief. "What the hell Bobby! You gonna pass up meeting KAS of all people so you can bring a random piece of shit punk home to take care of? Where is this cumin' from? It's not like this kinda thing don't happen often, this is Detroit man. C'mon we gotta go, we're probably late already no thanks to this crap."
"Hell no dumbass." Bobby replied, rolling his eyes. "Damn you're thick. See this?" He said, pointing to the phone booth Jack had cornered himself in before. "It's called a t-e-l-e-p-h-o-n-e. We sometimes use it to talk with people, who are in different vicinity than us. Yo Jeff, got a quarter?" He asked the third kid, who nodded and tossed one over.
Bobby dialed his number, and waited a few seconds before speaking to someone. "It's me. No Ma, I'm calling from a payphone. There's a kid here, thought you might wanna pick him up." He looked at Jack, "Name?" He asked again. Jack wasn't stupid, and he sure as hell wasn't going with whoever this woman was, so he decided to lie.
"Ryan" Jack answered.
"K yeah, we're on... Kidegar you know, the street near the grocery store, his name's Ryan. I gotta go. No I won't. Yeah I will. Just business, you know how it is Ma. K, I'll tell him. Bye."
"Alright Bobby, you've wasted ten minutes, can we go now?" Charlie asked impatiently. Bobby ignored him and turned to Jack, who ducked his head and set his jaw immediately.
"Look, Ryan, we gotta go, just wait here okay? Don't move, my Ma's gonna come pick you up." Jack nodded his head, and let his shoulders relax when the three boys turned and walked away.
As soon as the distraction they had offered him had left, Jack began to get nervous again. He didn't know where he was, he didn't have any money, he was freezing, and he probably had the cops out looking for him right now. Jack shivered, and pulled his black hoodie closer around his body, he had no idea what to do. One thing was for sure though, this Bobby kid's Mom wasn't actually going to come pick him up. Jack squinted through the dark, trying to see if there was anywhere he could spend the night. There was no way he was going back to that house. How long had he been sitting next to the phone booth? It hadn't been this dark when he'd run away had it?
Jack let out a frustrated sigh and began to walk across the street to the empty park he'd spotted. Man, this place really was deserted. Jack stopped when he reached the park, and gazed around for somewhere dry, settling for a red tunnel. Although it was in plain view of the street, which probably wasn't very smart, it was the only thing that had any sort of roof. Jack brought his arms inside his sweater, and tried to stop himself from shaking from the cold. It's not like he hadn't slept in the streets before.
The thirteen year old shifted uncomfortably in the tunnel as he tried to find an acceptable sleeping position, and eventually tried to close his eyes.
He could feel his hands shaking, as he struggled to keep his grip tight on the gun, and for an instant he locked eyes with Mr. Parades. Jack set his jaw and squeezed his index finger tighter, pushing the trigger almost half way down.
To be continued.