It had been a week since I had last seen Fletch. I felt numb, I felt lost. It just didn’t seem real. I had very vivid dreams where we were together, he was holding me … and yet I’d wake up to an empty bed.
I spent hours looking at our pictures, remembering his hands on me. Remembering our trips and our hot sex. I was never going to feel him like that again, never feel his warmth that came to mean everything to me. It was my comfort, my safe place.
A few days later I was settled into an apartment ... in Javi’s building.
Coincidence?
Scott knew I was in a fragile place, mentally and he did everything to keep me busy. Toby was constantly around, I think he had a crush on me, but he wasn’t my type. Hell did I have a type?
<~This is part two, Javi's story~I saw things, things no child should ever have to see.I saw my mom shoot up, I saw her almost overdose multiple times. I saw her fucking men, I was forced to watch her get raped more than once.I saw drug deals, I saw people get stabbed, get shot.It was south central Los Angeles, in the late 90’s and shit was just always crazy. The woman who gave birth to me, Lydia, had left Mexico when she was 17 for a better life. She came with a pimp, who promised her the world and then left her as soon as she got pregnant from a john.Lydia should have never have gotten pregnant, and even after that, she could have put me up for adoption, but she was selfish.
I had just turned 13, and sure enough, nobody gave a damn.Lydia and Roy fucked like rabbits and rarely got dressed, it was disgusting so I hardly ever went home. I started finding abandoned houses to go into, which wasn’t hard.You are probably wondering why I call her Lydia, and not mom. Well, she’s not my mom, she hasn’t done a damn thing to deserve that title.She keeps me around to get money from the state, and to try and look like a good mom to her parole officer, plain and simple.I was starting to get a bit of a reputation around the neighborhood for my boxing skills and I finally had something to look forward to, and a way to channel my anger.You might say having my as
Things were pretty good for the next eight months or so, I lost a couple fights, but I won about a dozen. The problem you have when things are going well, is that someone is going to want what you got.Drug dealers for example ... their problem is they get a little cash and want everyone to know it. I did everything possible to hide it. I didn’t want anyone to know what I had.I had nearly $11,500 saved now. I didn’t spend my money on anything. Guys from the boxing club invited me out to eat all the time, let me go home with them to crash sometimes. I was making them a fortune. If they were willing to pay, I always let them.I started thinking about the best way to keep the cash, especially if I was going to travel. I couldn’t risk travelling with that much just on me.
I was shocked at how easily I was able to get to Phoenix. Nobody questioned me, nobody said shit.I got off the bus and found a diner. I had cheeseburger and chocolate shake, and it was fucking amazing. I got a phonebook and called a couple mid-level hotels until I could find one that would let me book over the phone with a card.I used my best adult voice and mentioned I would be travelling with my son, and wanted to know if he could get a room key if I dropped him off on my way to a meeting. They were reluctant but I was able to convince them it was legit.I waited about two hours to leave and it took me another half an hour to walk there.I was hoping to get a different person than the one I had spoken to … and I did. The girl at the des
As it turned out, Candy was pretty much the nicest person I could have ever encountered. She had been abused by her step-father and ran away to escape it. We ended up having a lot in common and I did my best to help her around the house.I wasn’t much of a cook, but she showed me a couple of basics. After a few days, she asked if I wanted to stay longer.“I didn’t have any ID or working papers when I started at the diner. The owner, Cal, he’s real nice, doesn’t ask a lot of questions as long as you show up on time and do your job. Want me to ask if he’d hire you to wash dishes and bus tables? We actually had someone quit last week.”I thought on that. I wasn’t the washing dishes type and I wasn’t sure how well I would do having a “boss&rdq
I went to a hotel lobby and used the phone to call and get a bus ticket. I got one of the next available, I didn’t care where it was going.As it turned out, it was going to Chicago, so I figured I could get out along the way. I wasn’t even that far from St. Louis really.I cleaned out my locker and went to the bathroom to tape up. I didn’t even care about getting some food ahead of time, I just needed to get out of here.Once on the bus, the reality of what just happened sank in and as I processed it, I surprised myself.I felt no remorse, not a care in the world for the life I took. He hurt her, bad for years and she would have to carry that for the rest of her life. Knowing that she now didn’t have to live in fear becaus
Gary really came through, he got me into a small fixer upper studio apartment, it wasn’t much but it was furnished and it was all mine. I just had to agree to keep it quiet and not draw attention. I don’t know what they normally charged for rent, but I didn’t care, $1,500 bucks bought me three months with electric and water included.I still kept most of my money in the bus locker, I didn’t trust leaving it in my apartment.I got myself a library card and took out all kinds of books. I got to know the ladies there and they were all in love with me.I took out everything from math and science books to cookbooks and just soaked up as much as I could.Over the next couple of months I was a regular at the fights and I started working
I fucking got knocked out, hard.Never saw it coming until it was happening.I went into a coma for five days. Five days, and not a single person came to see me. No one … no one checked up on me.I don’t know if Gary was afraid, or what. I went from the top of my game, feeling on top of the world, to busted in a hospital bed, completely alone. I wasn’t even sure if they’d let me keep the apartment now. Child services was likely involved, the cops, etc.I had been awake about half an hour and nobody had yet come in my room. I was trying to give myself time to think before calling in the goon squad. I was working on my story, just a street fight with other kids. That’s all they needed to know.