Locked up with the Badboy.

I take a seat on the floor in front of him, "What?"

He combs a hand through his dark hair and sighs, "This is a maximum security prison, the people here have killed babies, shot up schools , killed multiple partners and run crime rings and you, are saying that I'm mean? "


29. Home

I’ve counted one minute and 50 seconds, not a long time but long enough for me to seriously question what’s about to happen. I’m about to become a lone fugitive, no money, no backup plan. I scratch my wrist at the two minute mark, If my parents don’t take me in I’m stuffed for life.

I keep letting the fears ramble along, they keep me distracted from my real issue. The moment Ben jump out of the carriage he left my life forever and now I’ve got to live like that, after weeks of him being the only person I can rely on or have a good conversation with he’s gone. Just like that.

Shit, lock me up in a mental ward already.

The train slows again and I’m passing city streets. Banging my head on the carriage door helps me to focus, “Aww crap,” I whisper to myself, rubbing the sore spot. A sign says, STATION 1 MILE and I fancy I can already see it.

Grabbing a sharp breath of air and leaping forward I hit sharp stones. Rolling to absorb the impact I get my breath knocked out of me. The train shudders on, no doubt glad to get rid of it’s emotionally confused passenger and I struggle to my feet trying to gasp air back into my lungs.

There’s a security fence on either side of the railway line, a barbed wire on top. I walk back the way I came until I reach a shallow ditch with enough room for me to scuttle under the fence. I get dirt down the front of my pants, but I don’t really care. If all goes to plan I’ll be home soon enough, half my wardrobe stayed at Mum and Dad’s.

Walking through Raleigh streets on my own makes weird feelings crawl up my spine. I’m super alone, super exposed. There’s a  few dark alleys that I make sure to avoid, instead I head for the brightest part of town.

Around me shadows gather, young guys pass in pick-up trucks and dented Corollas. Keeping my head forward and my hair out of sight I try to make like I’m a man on a mission. In a few minutes I reach main street and I know my way, dodging my way through tired people I pass a few fast food shops that remind me in the worst way that I have only eaten a snack-pack today.

With intense strength of will I manage to pass them by and head into Ellerslie; one of the nicer districts. All the houses have lights on, while their windows give me a glance into their occupants lives. Images of families watching T.V together and old couples talking help me to relax myself enough that when I enter my parent’s street I’m relaxed enough to feel that I’m actually coming home. If I didn’t have images and memories of Ben randomly flirting throughout my mind I’d almost be peaceful.

I walk past our neighbours, who’s houses and gardens despite everything I’ve been through remain the same. It’s only when I pay close attention that I see a few differences, The Jefferson’s bigger boat. Kal and Graham have taken all their Cranberries out. A new name on that lady who wouldn’t talk to me’s letter box.

And finally I reach Mum and Dad’s, only two or three of their lights are on. They must’ve either gone to bed or are out because that’s what they’d always do. Biting my lip and feeling a few nerves work their way  through me I knock on the door, very gently.

“Mum? Dad? You there?”

Neither of them answer. I walk around their house, peering through their bedroom widow to see the curtains open and their bed empty. Chris’s curtains are open as well but for some reason mine are pulled so tightly closed that not even light can escape.

Eyeing both our neighbour’s properties for signs that they’re spotted me I pull out the soft bundle that Ben gave me, unbuttoning it I roll out a series of metal instruments that under the moonlight appear to me lock picks.

Grinning a tiny bit, I fold the kit up again and reaching under a dis-used flowerpot I pull out the spare key and unlock our back door.



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