I woke up in a bedroom. The walls were a dark green, there was a small night stand to the right of the bed. Where am I? What happened? And What a weird dream. I don't go to parties or raves cause, well, that's just not good for you. Did one of my friends find a way to talk me into it? No girl next to me on the bed. One question answered. There was a window to my left. Maybe If I go for a fly I'll see where I am. It's just barely sunrise, mom will be ticked, but she'll get over it. I sat up on the edge of the bed stretched out my wings. Wait. I stood up and almost fell over before I sat back down. Right, it's all coming back to me. The accident, the operation, the gangster, the Dogs, the fight, the Millers. My father. I think I'm going to die of grief.
I was in my jeans, so I put my shirt on and headed downstairs. I smelled eggs and bacon cooking. I heard Mrs. Miller talking to her husband. "Should we tell him?" "No if she wants to tell him she will tell him." I decided to clear my throat and walk the rest of the way down. They were looking at me as I entered the kitchen. Mr. Miller was sitting at the tiny kitchen table, while Mrs. Millers was at the little stove island cooking what my nose identified earlier. The dogs walking around the little island like breakfast sharks.
Mr. Millers spoke first, "How'd ya sleep, bud?" I replied, "Not as good as I would've liked." Mrs. Millers smiled and said, "Well, breakfast is ready. Please go ahead and help yourself. I'll go drag Nicole outta bed." She ran upstairs, leaving me alone with her husband. I sat in the chair across from him. He looked at me, as if trying to read my thoughts. "Gabriel," He said, "I want to tell you a story." I nodded and said, "Uh, O.K. Shoot"
"I had a good friend in college. He had a really rough life. His father was a drunk, and abused him every step of the way. His mother lost him in the divorce; how exactly I'll never know. His father said he would never amount to anything. He had to do everything himself. He finally got emancipated and started his own life. Got to college all by himself." He got up and got two plates of food as he was talking. He set one plate down beside me. I would thank him, but I hooked on to his story. "Anyway, on the last week of his last year, He received a call. I'll never forget his face. He dropped everything and went to his father's house. As it turned out, it was his mother. She was calling him to ask him to join her in getting revenge on the old drunk. She was traumatized. She somehow figured that everything that happened to her was because of him." I took a moment to think about this. I asked, "Did he do it?"
He shook his head, "Nope. Police found the poor guy dead on the highway. The Mom wanted revenge so bad, when her son stood in her way: she killed him; and in her sorrow she killed herself right then and there. A week later the father died of an overdose." I thought about this some more. I said, "Why would he do that? After all the father did, he tried to save his life? Even when the Dad was going to die anyway?" Millers shrugged and said, "It's a mystery."
I hadn't realized it but he finished his plate of food, while I haven't touched mine. He picked up his plate put in the sink and walked away, saying "Just some food for thought." As I began to slowly eat my food, he walked to the door and called out, "Honey! I'm going to work!" The Mrs. called back, "O.K. Hun! Be careful!" I heard someone run downstairs and Nicole's voice say, "Bye Daddy." I could almost feel them embrace in a hug. I heard the door open then shut and someone walk into the kitchen. "Oh, Hey glad to see you're up. Hows Mom's cooking? I totally understand if you feel like bolting through the door right now." An 'I heard that!' escaped from the upstairs. "It's great." I said. She got her plate and sat down. She was wearing a loose light brown shirt and some fuzzy looking green long johns. After a moment in silence, she said, "Hey, later we're going to go shopping for some clothes you can wear." I almost choked and started coughing. Nicole sprung up and was rubbing my back beside me in an instant. "Geez, are you O.K.? You don't hate shopping that much do you?" She went to pore some O.J. (Orange Juice) and set it on the table next to my plate. "No it's just that.......I never went shopping. Someone else would read a teen fashion magazine, see what was in stile, and go out to buy it. Anything that was 'So two weeks ago' would go to Good Will." She raised an eyebrow. She said, "Your kidding right?" "Wish I was." She shook her head. "Well, I guess there's a first for everything."
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
The Fallen part 5: Meeting the Girl's Parents
Today was starting to get weirder and weirder by the minute. She was in the leather chair and I was on the couch. Just talking and waiting for Nicky's parents to get home. "So, Gabe..." She started. "You know what I'm going to do." I said. "You can't just..." I looked at her and said, "Watch Me!" I lowered my voice a bit. "He took away the only thing that made me special, that made me unique. Now I'm going to take away the only thing he loves." I tried to calm down with failed attempts. "I will kill him." And I meant that, with every fiber of my being. She looked worried. "I wish I can change your mind." She said. At that moment the door opened and the dogs got excited and started barking and prancing to the parents of Nicole. I got introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Nicole looked almost exactly like her mom, but the Mrs. has Hazel eyes. Nicole had her dad's blue eyes. At dinner Mrs. Miller decided to pop a question. "So, Gabriel, how did you get Nicky here to listen to you? 'Cause Lord knows she doesn't listen to her teachers at school." Nicole shot her a 'I can't believe you just said that' look and said, "Hey, for your information, I am now a straight C to B+ student." Everyone was stifling giggles now. "So seriously, what did you say that got her to not call the police?" I lowered my head a bit and looked at Nicole who was sitting next to me. "It's O.K. They'll be cool with it, trust me." I nodded and said, "It's not what I can tell you and you would believe me. I have to show you first." I got up from the table I pulled of the big jacket I had and placed it on the chair I was sitting in. Nicole's father, who just happens to be Goliath, is eyeballing me. I just thought of something, there are a lot of windows in this house. I said, "Maybe I should show you in the Bathroom." There was no tub or anything on the middle floor bathroom, so we all went upstairs. "What is it, exactly, that you have to show us?" asked Mr. Miller as we got up stairs. The hallway upstairs was shaped like an out-stretched 'u' with doors on each end, and the opening for the stairs closer to the left end. The were other two doors on the right end, and I guessed that at least three of these were bedrooms. Nicole lead me into the bathroom, which, apparently, had a frog bathroom theme to it. I glanced at the family behind me who stood at the door. I removed my shirt and extended my wing slightly. And the wife gasped and said, "Oh my God." Minutes in silence felt like hours. I was wondering sense I escaped, did the wound heal over? My question was answered when I heard Mrs. Miller said, "Honey go get the first aid kit from down stairs." She came beside me pulling my forearm to the bathtub. "Go ahead and sit on the edge there, with your legs in the tub." I obeyed. She next to me and said, "The body is trying to heal, but it needs a little help. Lucky for you, I was a nurse for seven years. Bart I need the alcohol." Nicole came back with the kit. She sat on the other end of me, the end I was facing. She held my hand to give me some comfort. It worked. "Does this sting?" I heard Mrs. Miller's voice say. "Yes" I said. "Good. That means its cleaning it up. I going to stitch this up, O.K.?" I just nodded. Nicole squeezed my hand genitally.
I told them the same story I told Nicole. The father coughed when I got to the dog part. My story ended just when Nicky's mom was finishing up. "O.K. That should do it." I got up and put on my shirt. I looked at all of them and said, "I can't thank you enough. I tried to rob your house and now you're helping me." Mr. Miller grunted and said, "Yeah, I'm trying to get over that myself." "Bart!" Mrs. Miller screamed. "I'm just kidding." He said with his hands in defence. "Listen son. You can stay here for the night, in the other room, right here." He said, pointing to the room to his right. "Fair enough." I said.
ELSEWHERE........
The room was dark and the hunters seemed darker of the room than the rest. Silhouettes in the shadows. The only light was from the lamp on the desk, sitting at the desk was Mr. Herald Collins, with his fingers laced. We were waiting on the last one for the 'meeting that never happened'. "She ain't comin. Just get it started already." said a gruff voice amongst the shadows. Then almost on cue, the only door leading outside opened and walked in was a young woman in a cloak. The darkness shielded her eyes from further details. But her voice gave enough description, lean and dangerous, "Sorry I'm late, someone looked at me funny." I intervened before the conversation could get out of hand, "Then let us begin." I took the remote that was on the desk, and clicked on the screen on the far wall. A picture showed up of Gabriel last month. I was never in the underground crime lord business, I'm still not. A business man recommended them. And I needed them now. "I need you to find this boy. He will be the downfall of my company if he gets to anyone. I only have three rules: Bring him back alive, Bring him back in one piece, and above all, Bring him back before he can make any kind of Ally." I let that set in. A different, rather young, voice came up, "What's so important about this kid anyway? Isn't this something for police?" Another voice came in young, but still adult, "Yeah, after all, we're not charity works. What's so special about this nobody?" I responded with no tone in my voice at all, "He's my son." The gruff voice and the younger one started snickering. The woman was the only one who was serious now. "Is their a time limit on when we get him?" I said this, very clearly, "As soon as possible."
The gruff one asked, "How good is the pay? Like the fourth stooge over here says, ain't niither of us cheap." "How much did you get for your last hit?" I could see his grin throgh the darkness. "2 million." "I'll triple that for the first one to bring me Gabriel Collins......alive." They left the room and me to my thoughts, and I had a lot to think about.
I told them the same story I told Nicole. The father coughed when I got to the dog part. My story ended just when Nicky's mom was finishing up. "O.K. That should do it." I got up and put on my shirt. I looked at all of them and said, "I can't thank you enough. I tried to rob your house and now you're helping me." Mr. Miller grunted and said, "Yeah, I'm trying to get over that myself." "Bart!" Mrs. Miller screamed. "I'm just kidding." He said with his hands in defence. "Listen son. You can stay here for the night, in the other room, right here." He said, pointing to the room to his right. "Fair enough." I said.
ELSEWHERE........
The room was dark and the hunters seemed darker of the room than the rest. Silhouettes in the shadows. The only light was from the lamp on the desk, sitting at the desk was Mr. Herald Collins, with his fingers laced. We were waiting on the last one for the 'meeting that never happened'. "She ain't comin. Just get it started already." said a gruff voice amongst the shadows. Then almost on cue, the only door leading outside opened and walked in was a young woman in a cloak. The darkness shielded her eyes from further details. But her voice gave enough description, lean and dangerous, "Sorry I'm late, someone looked at me funny." I intervened before the conversation could get out of hand, "Then let us begin." I took the remote that was on the desk, and clicked on the screen on the far wall. A picture showed up of Gabriel last month. I was never in the underground crime lord business, I'm still not. A business man recommended them. And I needed them now. "I need you to find this boy. He will be the downfall of my company if he gets to anyone. I only have three rules: Bring him back alive, Bring him back in one piece, and above all, Bring him back before he can make any kind of Ally." I let that set in. A different, rather young, voice came up, "What's so important about this kid anyway? Isn't this something for police?" Another voice came in young, but still adult, "Yeah, after all, we're not charity works. What's so special about this nobody?" I responded with no tone in my voice at all, "He's my son." The gruff voice and the younger one started snickering. The woman was the only one who was serious now. "Is their a time limit on when we get him?" I said this, very clearly, "As soon as possible."
The gruff one asked, "How good is the pay? Like the fourth stooge over here says, ain't niither of us cheap." "How much did you get for your last hit?" I could see his grin throgh the darkness. "2 million." "I'll triple that for the first one to bring me Gabriel Collins......alive." They left the room and me to my thoughts, and I had a lot to think about.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The Fallen part 4: How you get a girl...to listen to you
(If you are reading this part first, do your self a favor and read the others before this one. Or else your not going to understand any of this)
Great, now I not going to live long enough to be slammed onto America's Most Wanted. I took a few steps back, with each step the growling becoming more intense. Quiver the nervous Chihuahua barked out a few times. I don't need to be a dog whisperer to know what that meant. I backed myself up to the kitchen counter and Killer the modern day Cujo stopped growling. I looked around very slowly to see what stopped it. I looked at where my left hand was at. It was hovering over the knob of a drawer that was next to the fridge. I looked at the dog again he was sitting with his head tilted sideways, as if to ask a question. I slowly pulled the drawer opened and prayed that what I hoped was in there, was in there. I looked into it. Yes! Doggy treats. I looked at the dog again He was wagging his tail this time. Even Nervous here was excited, his tail a vibrating blur compared to the rest of his body. I had to smile. I decided to sound a little friendly to the guard dogs. I picked up some little doggie treats and the tails started fanning a little harder. "Treat?" I asked. He gets up from his sitting position. I held the little milk bone up in the air. "Up." I ordered. He got up on his hind legs, towering over me. I gave him the treat. He got back down to chew the bone happily. The Chihuahua barked as if to demand a treat. I gave him a bone too, and it was funny to watch that little thing drag his milk bone to the living room.
O.K. That should keep them busy for a few minutes. I looked in the pantry they had. I picked up a few granola bars and stuffed them into the paper bags I snagged earlier. I grabbed the Bread, and (after a little hunting) the peanut butter and jelly. To my surprise, they had a box of plastic silverware, not much in it, a total of two forks, five spoons, and a lot of knives. I took it anyway. I walked into the living room, wondering if I should go use the bathroom before I leave, when the door swung wide open. Standing there was a very cute white girl. She must be at least 15 or 16. She had a yellow T-shirt with different colored flowers on it, black jeans, a black short-sleeve jacket, and black and white tennis shoes. Her skin was flawless, her eyes blue as the sky, her wavy, black hair perfected her features. She had her backpack dangling in her hand. Oh, that's right, today must be Friday, still a school day.
I thought she would scream, I thought she would run. I thought she would yell to the police and warn them of a five foot, ten, long haired Blondie, robbing houses of groceries. But instead she tossed her bag aside and closed the door behind her. She locked it, turned around to me and suddenly I really did need to go to the bathroom. She said, "I've been having a bad day as it is, but now I can take my anger out on somebody." She slowly walked toward me. "Too bad," she said playfully, "your really cute for a thief." She lunged at me with a fist up in the air. I dodged it. She threw one fist after another, and I had to dodge and block every one of them. Normally I would fight, I wouldn't hurt her, just immobilize her. The dogs just stared, they certainly weren't taking sides. I always had the knife I stole from that one guy. But I refused to use it. I wanted this to end quickly. I tried talking while dodging blows, "Please-Ahhh-I don't want to hurt you." "That makes my part in this easier." she said, as if it was plain as day. I tried to keep talking, to show her I wasn't a bad guy. "Uh. Can't I just leave an I.O.U.?" I said as we made our way to kitchen. I ran past the counter and she followed, we ran around a little bit until both of us suddenly stopped. The counter was a big rectangle island in the middle of the kitchen, and we were on the far ends of it; my back to the living room. She reached behind her, her eyes still on me. She felt around and threw the knives she grabbed, I ducked just in the nick of time. I ran away, into the living room and turned to face her again, backing up very slowly. "If you want the food back that badly, you can have it. I'll just get it from some dumpster." I never realized that I still had the bag in a death grip. I dropped the bag, and she was still walking toward me with a face that said, No matter what you do, you will die, today. I bolted for the door, I thought I was fast, but apparently she was faster. As soon as I got to the door, she grabs my jacket and throws me away, so that the only thing between me and the door was her. Right, only. She comes at me again fists cocked, she threw one and I caught it. She was surprised, but got over it and threw her other fist. I caught that one too. I put her wrists in my left hand and pinned her to a wall. I cocked my fist back, but froze. What was I doing? Am I that much like my father? For the first time, I saw fear in the girl's sky blue eyes. I dropped both of my hands, freeing the girl. She had a questioning look on her face, which instantly turned to a look of 'My Chance!' With that she punched me in the face, and I let her. Before I passed out I could hear her beautiful voice mocking me, "So much of a thief you turned out to be." Should I take that as a compliment or as an insult?
I woke up, but again I was scared to open up my eyes. I hoped with all my heart this all a dream, that I would wake up in my old bed in my room. To two crappy parents. I would go on my 4-o'-clock in the morning flying run (the sun was nowhere near up by then). I opened my eyes to see the girl hang up her phone. I realized that my hands were tied behind my back by layers and layers of duct-tape. She kneeled beside me and said, "The police aren't coming unless I tip my dad off in a minute. If I don't check up with him in 30 minutes he'll call them anyway, so that leaves plenty of time to talk about you. First question: Why didn't you use this?" She held the Knife I refused to use in our fight. She sat down and crossed her legs, as if she was ready to hear any story I could throw. I thought about this, lying about this could make matters worse. Although they out come of me telling the truth could either be disastrous, or maybe beneficial. I sighed and said, "Before I say anything, you need to reach down my shirt and feel my back." I didn't realized how strange that sounded until I said it. She said "Oh you would like me to do that would you?" "No-I mean, I need you to trust me for a sec. O.K.?" "Trust you? Why should I?" She said, almost screaming now. "Cause I had that in my pocket, and I refused to use it against you." I said, hinting the knife in her hand. She sighed and leaned over to feel my back. "Uh, you might want to feel the other side first." She shot me a funny look and started to reach behind my left shoulder with her right hand. I can feel her hand on my wing. I could hear the questioning in her voice, "What the....." She felt the other side now. She opened up the collar of my shirt, the neck of it almost choking me, to get a better look. Then she sat back, and looked at me with a sad/questioning face. "What happened to you?" I sighed, "You might want to call your dad and tell him your decision now, because it's a long story." "Oh,.....of course." She got up, called her dad, had a short argument, and hung up. She turned to me and said almost anxiously, "So what happened?" I told her my story, she laughed when I told her about the dogs. She had a beautiful laugh. When the story caught up to here, she was serious again. "Well, I guess we do what we do to survive. I'm going to call my dad again to convince him to let you stay with us." "Wait, What?" I said. "It's October. You can't be wandering around in the cold all day and night. Crazy." Before she left to the other room I had to remind her of something, "Uh, excuse me. Uh, what's your name?" She turned and said, "Oh," she walked over and extended her hand to shake, "My name is Nicole, but everyone calls me Nicky." I looked at her hand and then back at her. She realized that I was still duct taped and said, "Oh, sorry. Let me get you out of there."
Great, now I not going to live long enough to be slammed onto America's Most Wanted. I took a few steps back, with each step the growling becoming more intense. Quiver the nervous Chihuahua barked out a few times. I don't need to be a dog whisperer to know what that meant. I backed myself up to the kitchen counter and Killer the modern day Cujo stopped growling. I looked around very slowly to see what stopped it. I looked at where my left hand was at. It was hovering over the knob of a drawer that was next to the fridge. I looked at the dog again he was sitting with his head tilted sideways, as if to ask a question. I slowly pulled the drawer opened and prayed that what I hoped was in there, was in there. I looked into it. Yes! Doggy treats. I looked at the dog again He was wagging his tail this time. Even Nervous here was excited, his tail a vibrating blur compared to the rest of his body. I had to smile. I decided to sound a little friendly to the guard dogs. I picked up some little doggie treats and the tails started fanning a little harder. "Treat?" I asked. He gets up from his sitting position. I held the little milk bone up in the air. "Up." I ordered. He got up on his hind legs, towering over me. I gave him the treat. He got back down to chew the bone happily. The Chihuahua barked as if to demand a treat. I gave him a bone too, and it was funny to watch that little thing drag his milk bone to the living room.
O.K. That should keep them busy for a few minutes. I looked in the pantry they had. I picked up a few granola bars and stuffed them into the paper bags I snagged earlier. I grabbed the Bread, and (after a little hunting) the peanut butter and jelly. To my surprise, they had a box of plastic silverware, not much in it, a total of two forks, five spoons, and a lot of knives. I took it anyway. I walked into the living room, wondering if I should go use the bathroom before I leave, when the door swung wide open. Standing there was a very cute white girl. She must be at least 15 or 16. She had a yellow T-shirt with different colored flowers on it, black jeans, a black short-sleeve jacket, and black and white tennis shoes. Her skin was flawless, her eyes blue as the sky, her wavy, black hair perfected her features. She had her backpack dangling in her hand. Oh, that's right, today must be Friday, still a school day.
I thought she would scream, I thought she would run. I thought she would yell to the police and warn them of a five foot, ten, long haired Blondie, robbing houses of groceries. But instead she tossed her bag aside and closed the door behind her. She locked it, turned around to me and suddenly I really did need to go to the bathroom. She said, "I've been having a bad day as it is, but now I can take my anger out on somebody." She slowly walked toward me. "Too bad," she said playfully, "your really cute for a thief." She lunged at me with a fist up in the air. I dodged it. She threw one fist after another, and I had to dodge and block every one of them. Normally I would fight, I wouldn't hurt her, just immobilize her. The dogs just stared, they certainly weren't taking sides. I always had the knife I stole from that one guy. But I refused to use it. I wanted this to end quickly. I tried talking while dodging blows, "Please-Ahhh-I don't want to hurt you." "That makes my part in this easier." she said, as if it was plain as day. I tried to keep talking, to show her I wasn't a bad guy. "Uh. Can't I just leave an I.O.U.?" I said as we made our way to kitchen. I ran past the counter and she followed, we ran around a little bit until both of us suddenly stopped. The counter was a big rectangle island in the middle of the kitchen, and we were on the far ends of it; my back to the living room. She reached behind her, her eyes still on me. She felt around and threw the knives she grabbed, I ducked just in the nick of time. I ran away, into the living room and turned to face her again, backing up very slowly. "If you want the food back that badly, you can have it. I'll just get it from some dumpster." I never realized that I still had the bag in a death grip. I dropped the bag, and she was still walking toward me with a face that said, No matter what you do, you will die, today. I bolted for the door, I thought I was fast, but apparently she was faster. As soon as I got to the door, she grabs my jacket and throws me away, so that the only thing between me and the door was her. Right, only. She comes at me again fists cocked, she threw one and I caught it. She was surprised, but got over it and threw her other fist. I caught that one too. I put her wrists in my left hand and pinned her to a wall. I cocked my fist back, but froze. What was I doing? Am I that much like my father? For the first time, I saw fear in the girl's sky blue eyes. I dropped both of my hands, freeing the girl. She had a questioning look on her face, which instantly turned to a look of 'My Chance!' With that she punched me in the face, and I let her. Before I passed out I could hear her beautiful voice mocking me, "So much of a thief you turned out to be." Should I take that as a compliment or as an insult?
I woke up, but again I was scared to open up my eyes. I hoped with all my heart this all a dream, that I would wake up in my old bed in my room. To two crappy parents. I would go on my 4-o'-clock in the morning flying run (the sun was nowhere near up by then). I opened my eyes to see the girl hang up her phone. I realized that my hands were tied behind my back by layers and layers of duct-tape. She kneeled beside me and said, "The police aren't coming unless I tip my dad off in a minute. If I don't check up with him in 30 minutes he'll call them anyway, so that leaves plenty of time to talk about you. First question: Why didn't you use this?" She held the Knife I refused to use in our fight. She sat down and crossed her legs, as if she was ready to hear any story I could throw. I thought about this, lying about this could make matters worse. Although they out come of me telling the truth could either be disastrous, or maybe beneficial. I sighed and said, "Before I say anything, you need to reach down my shirt and feel my back." I didn't realized how strange that sounded until I said it. She said "Oh you would like me to do that would you?" "No-I mean, I need you to trust me for a sec. O.K.?" "Trust you? Why should I?" She said, almost screaming now. "Cause I had that in my pocket, and I refused to use it against you." I said, hinting the knife in her hand. She sighed and leaned over to feel my back. "Uh, you might want to feel the other side first." She shot me a funny look and started to reach behind my left shoulder with her right hand. I can feel her hand on my wing. I could hear the questioning in her voice, "What the....." She felt the other side now. She opened up the collar of my shirt, the neck of it almost choking me, to get a better look. Then she sat back, and looked at me with a sad/questioning face. "What happened to you?" I sighed, "You might want to call your dad and tell him your decision now, because it's a long story." "Oh,.....of course." She got up, called her dad, had a short argument, and hung up. She turned to me and said almost anxiously, "So what happened?" I told her my story, she laughed when I told her about the dogs. She had a beautiful laugh. When the story caught up to here, she was serious again. "Well, I guess we do what we do to survive. I'm going to call my dad again to convince him to let you stay with us." "Wait, What?" I said. "It's October. You can't be wandering around in the cold all day and night. Crazy." Before she left to the other room I had to remind her of something, "Uh, excuse me. Uh, what's your name?" She turned and said, "Oh," she walked over and extended her hand to shake, "My name is Nicole, but everyone calls me Nicky." I looked at her hand and then back at her. She realized that I was still duct taped and said, "Oh, sorry. Let me get you out of there."
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Fallen part 3: Thief
One day. ONE day, I couldn't find any food. Since my clothes got left at the hospital, and MY wallet was in those clothes, I had no money. I tried dumpster diving, I tried making up a sob story for the food-vendors, and (as humiliating as it may be) begging, for money. I got some money, let's see; two dollars. I go from a high-flying rich boy, to a homeless bum with no money. O.K. Just relax, Gabe, I always planned to live on my own, now its time to prove it. Getting a job is out of the picture, I thought as I got a hashbrown at Mc Donalds. Mr. Collins will warn the police that a 'dangerous teen' is on the loose, if he hasn't already. As much as I hate to admit it I have to steal. I'll only take what I need, nothing more. Yeah, that'll be like my main motto. On the other hand, If I do anything They'll have all the reason they'll need to take me down, Hard. My stomach growl decided for me. I was still starving.
I had to hoof it to somewhere that would be an easy trip, if you were traveling by car. It was morning, I didn't sleep at all, not that I could find anywhere to sleep. Have you ever been homeless? Do yourself a favor and pay those bills any way you can. Finally a truck driver pulled over on the highway. "Got somewur t' go?" He said. For a minute I thought I was talking to Larry the Cable Guy. He had a checkered long-sleeved collared shirt, a green baseball cap, and some cowboy boots to go with his tight jeans. Do country people always dress like this? I thought that was part of those country jokes. I got in the truck and he said, "Where too?" I truly had no Idea. "Where's the closest town?" I asked. He shrugged and said, "I don't know, Bristow, I think. I'm headin that way to deliver these here mattresses." That's not where I live. "Take me there...Please" I added on the end. A few minutes into the trip, he asked, "Ain't you a lil young to be on yur own?" I paused, I was a little young, only sixteen and now and (probably) forever a wanderer. "Yes." I said, and left it at that, hoping he wouldn't persist on that subject. He didn't. After a long while he said, "We should be arriving t' the town in 'bout fifteen minutes. Y'want me t' drop ya off at the edge of town, or what?" "That would be great, thanks." We got to what I guess was the edge of Bristow, Virginia. "O.K. Here we are." he said. I got out of the truck, and realized a new problem. I turned around to the trucker, "I sorry dude, I don't have any money. I don't know how to pay you." He shrugged and said, "Don't even worry about it, bud. You were nice enough to not take off as soon as I opind the dur." He laughed a big hardy laugh then said, "There is one thing ya can do." I said, "Yes?" "Jus' be careful out here. Ya never know what's around the next corner." I nodded and understood his concern. "Thanks, and thank you for the ride." He tipped his hat and said, "Notta Problem." He closed his door and drove off. Maybe there are certain people I can trust. I was on a tall hill that gave me a nice scene of the town. A nice little neighborhood to the west of it, a little city with supermarkets and buildings no higher than six to seven feet. It looks like they slice out the Harlem District, of Manhattan and placed it in the middle of a pasture. It took me about an hour to walk down the hill without tripping and landing on my face. How do you people do it? Walking. I mean I walk all the time but this is just ridiculous. I wish I had my wings back, or at least something that'll balance me out. I feel like the Hunchback of Notre' Dame with this wing.
I finally got to the city, my stomach sounding like a Freight Train. I passed a group of punks when my stomach started reminding me that I hadn't eaten anything since 9:22. The were laughing and cursing me out, like sailors. I know people tend to curse a lot but that's just not necessary. I decided that if I was going to steal from somewhere, it can't be here. Police would be swarming the area in a matter of seconds. Plus, most of the business owners might have a shotgun pointed to my head in 2.3 seconds. I also decided to thank the Lord that mind-readers don't exist.....well, as far as I know. I made my way to the friendly looking neighborhood. From down here it looked like this was a different town entirely. The people are so friendly, at least seven different people waved or said, "S'up?" I saw a house, in between two roads that lead to different culdesacs, that had no cars in its driveway. I looked up and down the roads, not a soul in sight. Oh, come on Gabe like your going to break into a house, in the middle of the day. I didn't Have a watch anymore so I had to guess. It's like what, 2:00 maybe 3:00? I can wait behind a bush or something right? My stomach decided I couldn't and punched the inner wall of my abdomen. O.K. a quick in and out. Just get a bag, fill it with food and bolt. I crossed the street and approached the house and knocked pushed in the door bell. If there was someone here anyway, I could make up an excuse of some kind. I waited a little while, no answer. I knocked again and rang the doorbell, still no answer. O.K. Time to go to work.
I would like to say that I pulled some sortta combination of ninja moves to get in the house, but truth be told; the door was unlocked. I entered with caution. I carefully closed the door behind me. My heart was trying to beat its way outta my chest. With the exception of the squeaky floor I was totally silent. The way the house was designed, was that it was bigger than what it looked like. It was set on a hill going down. The inside had the stairs in the middle of the house. To my left was a parlor room with a desk, and a semi-round couch. To my right was a miniature hallway that led to the dining room, it had a secondary door across from the stairs that must've led to the garage. The walls here were colored a goldish/brownish color. If you go past the stairs you walk into the living room. It had two green couches, a black leather chair, and about four tables in different areas of the room. and in between the dining room and living room was the kitchen. It had a sink on the far end of the kitchen entrances, in a corner. This was a nice house, its not too fancy, not trashy at all. I had half a mind to turn around and just leave. But I should stop underestimating the power of influence my stomach has. I had to find something I could carry. I looked through the garage door. They apparently had a container with holes in it, it was filled with nothing but plastic bags. I grabbed a couple. After I closed the door and walked into the kitchen I realized something. Why would they need to need to get to bags like that so easily, unless....... As I realized this I saw the new problem. A big German Shepard, with a chain as a collar, appeared at the door way between the kitchen, and the living room. A Chihauhua trotted up behind it. Both were growling and showing teeth.
I had to hoof it to somewhere that would be an easy trip, if you were traveling by car. It was morning, I didn't sleep at all, not that I could find anywhere to sleep. Have you ever been homeless? Do yourself a favor and pay those bills any way you can. Finally a truck driver pulled over on the highway. "Got somewur t' go?" He said. For a minute I thought I was talking to Larry the Cable Guy. He had a checkered long-sleeved collared shirt, a green baseball cap, and some cowboy boots to go with his tight jeans. Do country people always dress like this? I thought that was part of those country jokes. I got in the truck and he said, "Where too?" I truly had no Idea. "Where's the closest town?" I asked. He shrugged and said, "I don't know, Bristow, I think. I'm headin that way to deliver these here mattresses." That's not where I live. "Take me there...Please" I added on the end. A few minutes into the trip, he asked, "Ain't you a lil young to be on yur own?" I paused, I was a little young, only sixteen and now and (probably) forever a wanderer. "Yes." I said, and left it at that, hoping he wouldn't persist on that subject. He didn't. After a long while he said, "We should be arriving t' the town in 'bout fifteen minutes. Y'want me t' drop ya off at the edge of town, or what?" "That would be great, thanks." We got to what I guess was the edge of Bristow, Virginia. "O.K. Here we are." he said. I got out of the truck, and realized a new problem. I turned around to the trucker, "I sorry dude, I don't have any money. I don't know how to pay you." He shrugged and said, "Don't even worry about it, bud. You were nice enough to not take off as soon as I opind the dur." He laughed a big hardy laugh then said, "There is one thing ya can do." I said, "Yes?" "Jus' be careful out here. Ya never know what's around the next corner." I nodded and understood his concern. "Thanks, and thank you for the ride." He tipped his hat and said, "Notta Problem." He closed his door and drove off. Maybe there are certain people I can trust. I was on a tall hill that gave me a nice scene of the town. A nice little neighborhood to the west of it, a little city with supermarkets and buildings no higher than six to seven feet. It looks like they slice out the Harlem District, of Manhattan and placed it in the middle of a pasture. It took me about an hour to walk down the hill without tripping and landing on my face. How do you people do it? Walking. I mean I walk all the time but this is just ridiculous. I wish I had my wings back, or at least something that'll balance me out. I feel like the Hunchback of Notre' Dame with this wing.
I finally got to the city, my stomach sounding like a Freight Train. I passed a group of punks when my stomach started reminding me that I hadn't eaten anything since 9:22. The were laughing and cursing me out, like sailors. I know people tend to curse a lot but that's just not necessary. I decided that if I was going to steal from somewhere, it can't be here. Police would be swarming the area in a matter of seconds. Plus, most of the business owners might have a shotgun pointed to my head in 2.3 seconds. I also decided to thank the Lord that mind-readers don't exist.....well, as far as I know. I made my way to the friendly looking neighborhood. From down here it looked like this was a different town entirely. The people are so friendly, at least seven different people waved or said, "S'up?" I saw a house, in between two roads that lead to different culdesacs, that had no cars in its driveway. I looked up and down the roads, not a soul in sight. Oh, come on Gabe like your going to break into a house, in the middle of the day. I didn't Have a watch anymore so I had to guess. It's like what, 2:00 maybe 3:00? I can wait behind a bush or something right? My stomach decided I couldn't and punched the inner wall of my abdomen. O.K. a quick in and out. Just get a bag, fill it with food and bolt. I crossed the street and approached the house and knocked pushed in the door bell. If there was someone here anyway, I could make up an excuse of some kind. I waited a little while, no answer. I knocked again and rang the doorbell, still no answer. O.K. Time to go to work.
I would like to say that I pulled some sortta combination of ninja moves to get in the house, but truth be told; the door was unlocked. I entered with caution. I carefully closed the door behind me. My heart was trying to beat its way outta my chest. With the exception of the squeaky floor I was totally silent. The way the house was designed, was that it was bigger than what it looked like. It was set on a hill going down. The inside had the stairs in the middle of the house. To my left was a parlor room with a desk, and a semi-round couch. To my right was a miniature hallway that led to the dining room, it had a secondary door across from the stairs that must've led to the garage. The walls here were colored a goldish/brownish color. If you go past the stairs you walk into the living room. It had two green couches, a black leather chair, and about four tables in different areas of the room. and in between the dining room and living room was the kitchen. It had a sink on the far end of the kitchen entrances, in a corner. This was a nice house, its not too fancy, not trashy at all. I had half a mind to turn around and just leave. But I should stop underestimating the power of influence my stomach has. I had to find something I could carry. I looked through the garage door. They apparently had a container with holes in it, it was filled with nothing but plastic bags. I grabbed a couple. After I closed the door and walked into the kitchen I realized something. Why would they need to need to get to bags like that so easily, unless....... As I realized this I saw the new problem. A big German Shepard, with a chain as a collar, appeared at the door way between the kitchen, and the living room. A Chihauhua trotted up behind it. Both were growling and showing teeth.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
The Fallen part 2: A New Nighmare
I thought I was dreaming, my wife, my son, in the hospital? This is more like a nightmare. I cancelled my business meeting with Japan, and hopped on my private jet to go see my wife, oh, uh, and my son. As soon as I got off the plane, there was a personally owned Chopper waiting to get to my hospital. When I arrived the doctor, however flabbergasted, was kissing up, stuttering, and giving the reports all at once. He needs to be fired, but more on that on a latter date. I need to make sure that nobody talks. I was talking to my wife, trying to calm her down a bit. She had a few cuts and a fractured arm. All well taken care of. She'll be fine, with some makeup, and physical therapy; it'll be as if there was no crash. She should be in some sort of play, she's so dramatic. The fumbling doctor interrupted me saying that he needed to see me about Gabriel. We went into his medical room down the hall. The man gave the report, "He has a lot of bruises on his head and shoulders. His right arm has a fracture, quite easy to heal. It's quite remarkable that he isn't dead; the drunk driver chose a great time to slam the brakes. However it's his..........uh, wings that concern me. I'm going to call an avian-specialist to help along the healing from them." Great. More money down the drain to keep more people quite. These wings, however holy they look, are going to drive me into the ground. I wish I could just................wait. "Doctor Kramer, cancel that call. I want you to remove the wings, both of them." He looked at me with an uncertain face. I said every C.E.O.'s magic words, "I'll double your salary for a year, if you do so." He nodded frantically saying, "Yes sir. However to remove the wings, we'll have to wait until his arm heals." I rubbed my forehead. He will hate me for a long time, but in the end, he'll come to thank me, for everything.
I woke up, on my stomach, to a white hospital room. My arm is in a cast beside me, with my hand exposed to the air. I groaned a bit, I feel like crap. My back and wings are KILLING me. Oh my Gosh. Dear old dad was sitting in a chair beside me, doing something with his i-phone. He saw me wake up and said, "Hey bud. How'd you feel?" I squinted at him. "Like crap, but I'll live." I said honestly. He smiled. That's weird there are three things you'll never see him do: Turn away a deal that'll make him money, Smile, and Call me by a nickname. That's right, Its never Bud, not Drew, not Gabe, nor Andy (my ex-girlfriend would call me that sometimes); It'll always be Gabriel. Something was definitely wrong. "What's going on?" I asked. His smile dropped, "You were in a car crash. There were no casualties, but, you, however got the worst of it." My head was buzzing. My first thought was 'Sweet I survived a nasty crash. Imagine what my friends would say.' then it was 'Oh No. I was in a nasty car cash.' I almost couldn't say it. "W--whats the damage?" He sighed. "It looks bad, but the doctors say you'll be O.K." "That wasn't what I meant." He paused. I was about to throttle him when he started to answer, "They look pretty bad, but we'll do what we can. Now the best thing you can do now is sleep." I had to think about this. I knew he was lying through his teeth. I wanted to say something, but the temptation of sleep was too sweet. Maybe a short nap could do me some good.
Three Months Later
"We'll be ready to start the procedure soon." said Dr. Kramer. We were walking down the hall towards the operation room on the fourth floor. The arm was declared fully healed the last night. Finally, my son we'll have the normal life he's always wanted. We entered the surgery room. The room had dimmed windows to hide it from prying eyes, but it still gave the person on the inside an excellent view of the city. Gabriel was sitting in his wheelchair, with a nervous look on his face. I asked, "Are you going to be O.K.?" He grinned. "I never actually had a operation before, but how bad could it be?", he shrugged. I had to smile myself, soon everything would go right, for both of us. "We're going to give you a little sedative that'll put you to sleep for the entire operation." Gabriel nodded, "Let's do this."
I woke up to some strange sounds. I didn't open my eyes, for fear of the operation not being done. I don't think it was, because I almost cried out in pain. My entire body felt like crap, especially my wings. I could hardly feel my right one. I tried to get my head together. Let's see, I hear a sawing sound that's kinda weird. What are they doing back there? I felt a sudden, sharp pain that disappeared as quickly as it came, and then I couldn't feel my wing anymore. I let out a moan without meaning to. I heard my father's voice through a speaker. "Hurry up Kramer! The sedative is wearing off, and I want those wings off yesterday!" The Doctor was stuttering out an answer about underestimating my metabolism. I didn't hear my body surged with pure rage and hate. I was fully awake. I started to roar, "HERALD!!!! YOU JUST MADE THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF YOUR LIFE!!!" I strained against the straps they had on my wrists. I snapped them easily. I turned to the three horrified Doctors. I saw that in the back was a tinted window. It didn't lead outside so I knew Dear old dad was watching; good I want him to see this. I punched one doctor, probably breaking his nose. I grabbed the other two and knocked their heads together. With all three knocked out I grabbed the cutting knife the first Doc was holding and ran outta the room. I ran out just in time to see Mr. Collins scrambling out of the room he was watching from. There was a nurse in her twenties, who probably had nothing to do with the situation, because her eyes said she just stepped into the hallway of hell. With acid dripping in my voice I said, "Hello father, prepare to DIE!" I raised the carving-knife in the air, I charged toward him, and he tried to get away. He never stood a chance, I grabbed him from behind and pinned him down on his face. The nurse ran off screaming bloody murder, I leaned in close to my dad's ear. I could hear his panicked breath. I whispered, "I lost my right wing because of you. Now you are going to lose your right arm. Does that seem fair? Huh?" I could feel the fear emitting from his body. I spread his arm out so I could take it off. I raised the knife and before I could bring it down, a gunshot hit the knife out of my hand. Dad's body guards. They're never too far away. I jumped off of him and ran into the room dad ran out of. I saw the window and I jumped for, but before I did that I heard my dad yell at the bodyguards. "Don't let him get away! I want it alive!" I heard some gunshots behind me.
After I crashed through the window I snapped out my wing. I'll tell you right now, there is a reason why birds have two wings. I flapped as hard as I could with no result, except for spinning like a helicopter in Missouri in the middle of Fall. I thought these would be the last seconds of my life, unfortunately I'm not that lucky. I landed on a car and hit my head. I wish I could sit there and catch my breath, but that women's scream woke me right back up. I stood up, and apparently everyone decided to be at the hospital tonight. All eyes were on me. It's like the nightmare where you're standing in front of everyone in your underwear, except this is no dream this is real. I didn't care right now, I need to get out of here. I ran over the hood of the car and down the side walk. I can still hear the questioning civilians behind me. Did you see that? What was on his back? It looked like a wing? What the Hell are they doing up there? I ignored them, only concerned with my own safety. I can run faster than most people, but I felt unbalanced this time, I almost fell twice. I had to get away from the streets, the police will be looking for a kid with wings, in his underwear. I saw a side alley and took it. Although I should have known better, when in the streets of DC you always look out for everything and I can't stress that enough. I dove behind a dumpster when I saw the front end of a police car driving slowly. If nothing else they're looking for a streaker, or Herald already alerted the police. After the car passed I peeked out to see if there were any more, only to be surprised a little by a new voice. "Ain't this my lucky day, you got twenty seconds to give me what you got." I turned around to see a kid about my size (think: skinny as hell), holding a knife. The knife gleamed in the little light we had from the street lamp just outside the alley. He probably didn't realize that I was in my boxers. He squinted his eyes. "What the-" He didn't get to finish that sentence, I punched him in the throat. He dropped down in agony. I pulled him back up by his hair and punched him in the face for good measure. I work out in the gym when I can, so I'd like to think I'm physically fit. I took off his clothes and put them on. I already had underwear, so he always had that. Plus punk-poser here had to have homeboys somewhere around here. I left his wallet there next to him, after all I'm not a thief. He'll be humiliated for life, and he'll be sore for a month, but nothing too serious. I looked down the road. A new chapter is about to open in my life, and it will not be a good one.
I woke up, on my stomach, to a white hospital room. My arm is in a cast beside me, with my hand exposed to the air. I groaned a bit, I feel like crap. My back and wings are KILLING me. Oh my Gosh. Dear old dad was sitting in a chair beside me, doing something with his i-phone. He saw me wake up and said, "Hey bud. How'd you feel?" I squinted at him. "Like crap, but I'll live." I said honestly. He smiled. That's weird there are three things you'll never see him do: Turn away a deal that'll make him money, Smile, and Call me by a nickname. That's right, Its never Bud, not Drew, not Gabe, nor Andy (my ex-girlfriend would call me that sometimes); It'll always be Gabriel. Something was definitely wrong. "What's going on?" I asked. His smile dropped, "You were in a car crash. There were no casualties, but, you, however got the worst of it." My head was buzzing. My first thought was 'Sweet I survived a nasty crash. Imagine what my friends would say.' then it was 'Oh No. I was in a nasty car cash.' I almost couldn't say it. "W--whats the damage?" He sighed. "It looks bad, but the doctors say you'll be O.K." "That wasn't what I meant." He paused. I was about to throttle him when he started to answer, "They look pretty bad, but we'll do what we can. Now the best thing you can do now is sleep." I had to think about this. I knew he was lying through his teeth. I wanted to say something, but the temptation of sleep was too sweet. Maybe a short nap could do me some good.
Three Months Later
"We'll be ready to start the procedure soon." said Dr. Kramer. We were walking down the hall towards the operation room on the fourth floor. The arm was declared fully healed the last night. Finally, my son we'll have the normal life he's always wanted. We entered the surgery room. The room had dimmed windows to hide it from prying eyes, but it still gave the person on the inside an excellent view of the city. Gabriel was sitting in his wheelchair, with a nervous look on his face. I asked, "Are you going to be O.K.?" He grinned. "I never actually had a operation before, but how bad could it be?", he shrugged. I had to smile myself, soon everything would go right, for both of us. "We're going to give you a little sedative that'll put you to sleep for the entire operation." Gabriel nodded, "Let's do this."
I woke up to some strange sounds. I didn't open my eyes, for fear of the operation not being done. I don't think it was, because I almost cried out in pain. My entire body felt like crap, especially my wings. I could hardly feel my right one. I tried to get my head together. Let's see, I hear a sawing sound that's kinda weird. What are they doing back there? I felt a sudden, sharp pain that disappeared as quickly as it came, and then I couldn't feel my wing anymore. I let out a moan without meaning to. I heard my father's voice through a speaker. "Hurry up Kramer! The sedative is wearing off, and I want those wings off yesterday!" The Doctor was stuttering out an answer about underestimating my metabolism. I didn't hear my body surged with pure rage and hate. I was fully awake. I started to roar, "HERALD!!!! YOU JUST MADE THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF YOUR LIFE!!!" I strained against the straps they had on my wrists. I snapped them easily. I turned to the three horrified Doctors. I saw that in the back was a tinted window. It didn't lead outside so I knew Dear old dad was watching; good I want him to see this. I punched one doctor, probably breaking his nose. I grabbed the other two and knocked their heads together. With all three knocked out I grabbed the cutting knife the first Doc was holding and ran outta the room. I ran out just in time to see Mr. Collins scrambling out of the room he was watching from. There was a nurse in her twenties, who probably had nothing to do with the situation, because her eyes said she just stepped into the hallway of hell. With acid dripping in my voice I said, "Hello father, prepare to DIE!" I raised the carving-knife in the air, I charged toward him, and he tried to get away. He never stood a chance, I grabbed him from behind and pinned him down on his face. The nurse ran off screaming bloody murder, I leaned in close to my dad's ear. I could hear his panicked breath. I whispered, "I lost my right wing because of you. Now you are going to lose your right arm. Does that seem fair? Huh?" I could feel the fear emitting from his body. I spread his arm out so I could take it off. I raised the knife and before I could bring it down, a gunshot hit the knife out of my hand. Dad's body guards. They're never too far away. I jumped off of him and ran into the room dad ran out of. I saw the window and I jumped for, but before I did that I heard my dad yell at the bodyguards. "Don't let him get away! I want it alive!" I heard some gunshots behind me.
After I crashed through the window I snapped out my wing. I'll tell you right now, there is a reason why birds have two wings. I flapped as hard as I could with no result, except for spinning like a helicopter in Missouri in the middle of Fall. I thought these would be the last seconds of my life, unfortunately I'm not that lucky. I landed on a car and hit my head. I wish I could sit there and catch my breath, but that women's scream woke me right back up. I stood up, and apparently everyone decided to be at the hospital tonight. All eyes were on me. It's like the nightmare where you're standing in front of everyone in your underwear, except this is no dream this is real. I didn't care right now, I need to get out of here. I ran over the hood of the car and down the side walk. I can still hear the questioning civilians behind me. Did you see that? What was on his back? It looked like a wing? What the Hell are they doing up there? I ignored them, only concerned with my own safety. I can run faster than most people, but I felt unbalanced this time, I almost fell twice. I had to get away from the streets, the police will be looking for a kid with wings, in his underwear. I saw a side alley and took it. Although I should have known better, when in the streets of DC you always look out for everything and I can't stress that enough. I dove behind a dumpster when I saw the front end of a police car driving slowly. If nothing else they're looking for a streaker, or Herald already alerted the police. After the car passed I peeked out to see if there were any more, only to be surprised a little by a new voice. "Ain't this my lucky day, you got twenty seconds to give me what you got." I turned around to see a kid about my size (think: skinny as hell), holding a knife. The knife gleamed in the little light we had from the street lamp just outside the alley. He probably didn't realize that I was in my boxers. He squinted his eyes. "What the-" He didn't get to finish that sentence, I punched him in the throat. He dropped down in agony. I pulled him back up by his hair and punched him in the face for good measure. I work out in the gym when I can, so I'd like to think I'm physically fit. I took off his clothes and put them on. I already had underwear, so he always had that. Plus punk-poser here had to have homeboys somewhere around here. I left his wallet there next to him, after all I'm not a thief. He'll be humiliated for life, and he'll be sore for a month, but nothing too serious. I looked down the road. A new chapter is about to open in my life, and it will not be a good one.
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