A mysterious man rescues a runaway teen |
It was cold. God, was it cold. What the hell was I thinking, running away in the winter? Fuck, it was stupid to run away in the first place. Why did I do it? I guess I just hadn’t been thinking. Mom and I had gotten into a huge fight over her new boyfriend. Dad had only died last year; who the hell was she to be dating? I was pissed. How could she betray his memory like that? But then, she told me something that I couldn’t believe. She said that she was glad that he was dead. Mom told me how my dad used to get drunk at night and beat her. When I told her that I didn’t believe her, that I would’ve heard something like that, she said that I slept too heavily to have heard anything. That is true. Dad used to joke that I could sleep through the end of the world. I wish that were still true. My last few weeks at home I would lay awake at night, listening to Mom and her boyfriend fucking like a pair of wild animals. It was too much. When he came over one night, I decided that enough was enough. I told him to go fuck himself, and to stay the hell away from my mom. Well, Mom was not too pleased with me. She followed me to my room and started yelling at me. I just yelled right back at her. After she told me that shit about Dad, I kinda lost it. I yelled, “Shut up, you old bitch!” Everything got incredibly quiet. I couldn’t believe that I had said that! Before I could apologize, Mom turned and ran out of my room. I could hear her crying in her room, her boyfriend consoling her. My guilt turned to disgust. I couldn’t take it anymore; I had to get out. I emptied my books out of my backpack and shoved a change of clothes and all the money I had into it. Then I slipped out of my window and ran off into the night. That was two months ago. I had thought that I could make it in the city. I was wrong. Despite what they say in the commercials, Philadelphia is not the city of brotherly love. I was robbed the first night here. Somebody stole my pack while I was sleeping on a park bench. Since then, I’ve learned to sleep lightly. Some nights I don’t even sleep at all, I just kind of lay there. This was one of those nights. I was too cold to sleep and too tired to move. I was also incredibly hungry. I can’t remember the last time that I ate well. Probably the night I ran away. Sometimes I get food out of garbage cans. It’s disgusting, but I don’t have much choice. I used to go to the soup kitchens, but they asked way too many questions. I hear voices approaching. Ahh, shit. I struggled to my feet, but it’s too late. Five guys walked around the corner into the alley where I was trying to sleep. “Well look what we have here, boys. I was hoping for some fun tonight.” Fuck! I had to get moving, but I could hardly walk, let alone run. They caught up to me easily and knocked me to the ground. “Where you runnin’, boy?” their leader asked me as he kicked me in the side. I cried out in pain, and they all started laughing as he continued to beat the shit out of me. I rolled into a ball and started screaming for help. “Ain’t nobody comin’ kid.” I screamed and tears rolled down my face as I felt my wrist snap. I jerked my head back so hard when the bones broke that it slammed into the wall. Everything went white and all I could feel was a horrible pain in my head. The guy wouldn’t let up, and his friends were laughing harder than ever. I kept thinking God, I wish I was at home. Why won’t they leave me alone? What the hell did I do to deserve this? Suddenly, out of the darkness of the alley, a new voice spoke. “Now, that’s not very nice. Leave him alone.” The guy stopped hitting me as his friends suddenly shut up. “Who the hell are you?” my tormentor demanded. Meanwhile, I was praying to any god there is that this guy could help me. “I’m your worst nightmare.” He replied. And before any of them could respond, he jumped forward and grabbed the guy nearest to him. He wrapped his hand around the guy’s face and twisted his head so savagely that I could hear the sickening crunch of his neck breaking. Before he even hit the ground, my savior pulled two long, slender knives out of the pockets of his trench coat and threw them with deadly accuracy into two other guys’ throats. He then dodged a punch thrown at his face and retaliated with a punch of his own, straight into the guy’s throat. The one who had been beating me ran at the guy. He just stepped to the side and grabbed the asshole’s wrist as he stumbled by and twisted it up behind the guy’s back. He then reached into his coat and, with one fluid movement, pulled a gun with a long silencer attached out and put it against the fucker’s head. With no hesitation or warning, he pulled the trigger, spraying the ground with blood and gore. He then turned and put a bullet into the head of the guy whose throat he had punched. By that time, I was somewhere between shock and passing out. My right eye had swollen shut and I could taste blood. I can’t even remember when he kicked my face. I didn’t even really comprehend that they were all dead. It all seems like a terrible nightmare. I nearly screamed when he pulled me up into a sitting position. “Kid, are you okay?” “My wrist…” was all I could say. I couldn’t make out the guy’s features through the tears and the pain in my head. All I could tell about him was that he’s huge. He must be at least six and a half feet tall, and covered with muscle. He touched my wrist slightly and I cried out. “Shit, it’s broken. We gotta get you to a hospital.” “You… you killed them.” “I know. I had to.” “Why?” “Because they would have killed you. I’ve done a lot of things in my life, kid. This isn’t much to me. I don’t have much of a conscience anymore.” Shit, this dude was freaking me out. I do not want to know what else he had done in his life. I was also getting really worried. I kept thinking What’s he going to do with me? “What’s your name, kid?” For some reason, I decided to tell him. “J-John Reese.” “Well, John, I don’t think we should just sit here talking. I’m gonna take you to a hospital.” With that, he gently picked me up and cradled me in his arms. Suddenly, my head swam and everything went black. I’m warm. Why am I so warm. I feel like I’m lying on something soft. That’s not right. Where am I? What am I doing here? I tried to force my eyes open, but my right eye refused. Bright lights burned into my left eye. I squinted and turned away. My neck was stiff, but I didn’t feel any pain. As my eye adjusted I could see my reflection in a mirror on the wall. I was lying in some sort of hospital bed. I looked like shit. There was a huge bruise around my eye and a bandage wrapped around my head. Vague memories of that night came back to me. It’s mostly hazy, but I can clearly remember the guy who saved me. I guess he’s the one who brought me here. “Oh good, you’re awake.” A pretty nurse walked in and sat down in front of me. “We’ve been worried about you. You’ve been unconscious for two days.” Two days!? I must have broadcast my emotions pretty clearly, because she put on a very sympathetic expression and said, “This must be very upsetting for you. I’ll go get the doctor. He can explain everything better than I can.” “Wait… water…” I said, barely above a whisper, but she heard me. “Oh! Of course.” She gently rolled my head so that I was looking at the ceiling again. I winced and hissed as the light hit my eye. She quickly dimmed it so that I could see. She then picked up a glass off of the side table and filled it with water. She put a straw between me lips and held the glass as I drank greedily. She chuckled and told me to slow down or I would get sick. After a little bit, she stood up and went to fetch the doctor. When he walked in I could see that he was smiling slightly. I got really pissed off. How can anybody look at me and smile? But then I realized that he was probably just glad that I was okay. “How are you feeling, son?” “Don’t know.” “That’s not very surprising. You have been heavily sedated. Otherwise, you would probably be in a great deal of pain.” “Where am I?” “You are in the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. You received quite a beating. Your right wrist is broken, as are several of your ribs, and you have a bad concussion.” “What happened to the guy who saved me?” “He disappeared shortly after you were checked in. He didn’t even leave a name.” The doctor began to check me over and nodded in approval. “Good, good. You’re improving nicely. Oh, you have some visitors.” He walked to the door and signaled to someone in the hall to come in. I stared in shock as my Mom and her boyfriend walked in. What are they doing here? Mom looked like she was trying to stop herself from crying. She lost that battle and burst into tears when she saw my face. Her boyfriend just shook his head. “Oh God, Johnny! How could this happen? I’m the worst mother in the world!” Mom cried as she rushed over and grabbed me up in a hug. I couldn’t stand to see her like that. I had no idea that she would be so affected by all this. It made me feel like total scum. “Mom… Mom, I’m sorry…” I said over and over again. I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t yelling at me. Her boyfriend walked over, ruffled my hair, and said, “It’s okay, John. You were upset. You didn’t have to run away. We could have talked about it. We’ve been really worried about you.” This didn’t make any sense to me at all. I expected them to start shouting their heads off at any moment Mom looked me in the eye, tears streaming down her face, and said, “Everything will be okay now, Johnny. Once you’re better, we’ll go home. We’ll be a family again.” I was speechless. She still loves me. She still wants me in her house, in her life. I actually felt happy, the first time since God knows when. I’m alive, and I’m going home. |