Hello My Name Is Nothing

There is no permanent destination for me. I am a murder-without-hesitation hotwire expert. This is the story of how I finally may have found a home.


1. Ch. 1


 Sweat had started to accumulate on my forehead as the minutes ticked away. I had been stuck behind this family’s furnace for almost two hours. I had been staying in their home for a week and they unexpectedly returned home early because the youngest girl had gotten sick. When their door opened I ducked behind the first thing my eyes saw. This happened to be the furnace. My petite body was easily concealed just in time. The family had now started to eat take-out that made my mouth water just at the smell of it. You see, with my high metabolism, I get hungry a lot. This is a bad trait to have when you are constantly on the run. I had sweated through my shirt by the time the family had switched out every light and crept upstairs.

            I slowly got out from behind my heated hiding place and was greeted with a wonderful blast of air conditioning. I opened their fridge silently and ate at their leftovers. I closed the fridge and looked up at the stairs, thankful I hadn’t made the mistake of putting my bag in the master bedroom. The only sound that could be heard as I crept from the kitchen was the sound of the upper-class family’s air conditioning fanning out refreshing breezes of cold air. I grabbed my bag from its hiding spot under a floorboard I had loosened when I arrived. I changed slowly so I wouldn’t wake the family into my torn blue jeans, white v-neck, and leather jacket.

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            I took some last savory breaths of air conditioning before pulling on my boots and grabbing my jacket. I slipped out of my week-long home and began to walk down the silent block of the town. I needed some ride to hot-wire as I always did. I couldn’t have the same license plate for too long or they might find me again. Soon I came across the strip mall. I could finally ride a motorcycle instead of the usual beat up rental car or skateboard. I walked into the strip mall, which appeared to have remained open, considering it was Saturday.

            I sprinted across the lot containing various cars until I spotted it. The motorcycle that would take me where to go whenever I wanted. I had already stolen several motorcycle license plates to switch of with in case they tracked my plate number. I quickly hot-wired the vehicle and I was about to put on my stolen helmet when I flashlight blared in my face. I looked up at the face of an overweight car-dealer holding a beer in one hand and a flashlight in the other.

            “Ma’am, did you know hot-wiring motorcycles is a crime?” he said in a slightly slurred voice.

            “Trust me, I’ve done worse. Now either you let me leave with your motorcycle or we do this the hard way.” I said getting up from my position. I had a feeling what he would pick.

            “Ma’am, you don’t understand. I’ve already called the cops and everything. You’re stuck.” He said with a sly grin. I heard the distant police sirens. They would be here in a minute at the most.

            I rolled my eyes then said, “Fine, you have picked the hard way.” I lifted my foot and kicked him square in the jaw. He yelped then collapsed onto the ground. I pulled out my handgun and pointed it at his face. He looked up at me in fear.

            “Please go I won’t tell anyone I swear! Just don’t kill me! I promise!” he said. Suddenly a memory came to my mind.


            I quickly hot-wired the car, making sure no one was looking. Then I heard a chuckle behind me.

            “Wow, I didn’t expect this from you.” Darren said with a grin. I looked at him and backed away from the car.

            “You better not tell anyone Darren.” I said threateningly. He put his hands up in defense.

            “Well, I don’t know, since stealing cars is illegal.” He said with a grin. I kicked him in the groin and he collapsed. I pointed my gun at his face.

            “I promise I won’t tell anyone! Please, I swear! Just don’t kill me! Please!” he pleaded. I put my gun away and backed up. “Thank you.” Darren said. Suddenly I heard a gun load behind me. I turned around to see two police cars and a police man pointing his gun at me. I put my hand up and the man handcuffed me. As I was shoved into the car Darren came up to me.

            “You promised you wouldn’t tell.” I said through gritted teeth.

            “Promises made in fear are always broken.” He said grinning.


            I looked at the man who at this point was trembling and said, “I don’t believe in promises.” I pulled the trigger.

            I hopped onto my motorcycle and drove right past the unsuspecting police as they turned into the car lot. The wind blew my face. I decided then that I would go to the city of broken dreams: New York. Only for two weeks though, because no matter what I could never stop running. Because, as of today, I was running from the police, who in about three minutes would want me for not one, but two murders. My life was and will forever be my own personal hell-hole. There was no permanent home or welcoming family. There was just a house abandoned by a family on vacation and small towns full of old people and weak law enforcement. My name is Nothing. This is my story.

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