I stepped out of the subway station and into the cold November dusk. The air was ice cold and there was a bitter wind blowing down the street. I stuffed my pale white hands into the deep pockets of my Misfits hoodie and shuffled forward slightly to get a better view of where I could go.

The sun was setting on the horizon casting long shadows on the road. I had hoped to search the area before it got dark, but the funeral had gone on for longer than I had expected. I wanted to leave earlier, even more so when I got no form of comfort from my family other than dirty looks for my choice of attire (my usual hoodie and jeans combination), but I just couldn’t bring myself to walk away. It was as though I would have been accepting that they were gone, that there was no going back.

Here I finally was, though. In the middle of New York city with nowhere to go, no plan and the only thing going for me being the large inheritance I was due to receive soon. Soon though, was not soon enough. At this exact moment, I had no money. I had used every penny I had on getting the train and then the subway as far as I could into the city, but now I was here I definitely could have found better places to arrive at.

The buildings on either side of the road were run down with walls covered in graffiti, some with smashed windows and the others looking desolate but still occupied by those just as desperate as the buildings themselves. Discarded newspapers and rubbish were gently blowing down the street, accompanied by dead leaves that blocked the drains. Along the curb there were random patches of melted snow from the flurry that fell last week. The weather had been warming up since Halloween, but it was now due to drop again dramatically. Just what I needed when I was about the start living on the streets for the next week.

Sighing and deciding to use what little sunlight I had left the best I could, I began to walk down the street in the hope that it headed in a direction towards a better neighbourhood.

I found myself wondering what I would be doing right now if my parents were still here, in this world with me. It was a Sunday, so we would have probably just finished having a family dinner and I would have just done the washing up. Soon we would be heading into the living room to watch TV together. I always used to hate sitting in the cold, emotionless room with them, staring at the brainless electrical box, always desperate to just run upstairs as soon as I could and plug myself back into my much preferred world of music. Ever since I had found out they were really gone, I had been consumed with a gut-wrenching feeling of guilt. I should have showed them more how much I cared about them, how much they really meant to me. I shouldn’t have shouted at them so much, or been so ungrateful for what they gave me. They weren’t the best parents, but things could have been worse. They had always pressured me a lot to keep doing well in school and to try harder at just, well, everything, and I knew that, sadly, they had contributed quite considerably to my depression. But I also remembered how proud they had been of me when I got over that. When I came home from therapy one day and I told them that I didn’t need to go back again and that I didn’t even need the pills anymore. They had been so genuinely happy, and so had I. I was still the stroppy, mostly introverted teenager I had always been, but that was just by normal standards now. I still used to have my bad days, but they never got as bad as they used to get during my peak high school days. From then on they didn’t mind if I barley spoke to them for the whole week, just as long as I always spent that Sunday night every week with them. And that was why I never threw up a fuss over having to watch boring period dramas every week. That, and the fact I had actually grown to enjoy the programmes, just a tiny but, not that I would ever admit it to anyone.

I walked until the sun had set completely, engulfing the streets in darkness. Even then I continued to walk, only now I pulled my hood over my head and plugged my music in on top volume to drown out the noises of the drunken people wandering the streets.

I continued to walk late into the evening. It was roughly 9’o’clock when I realised that I had walked into an area that was virtually a ghost town. There were no signs of life anywhere, and the streets were littered with glass from the broken windows. I realised I had become too lost in my music to remember where I had come from, so I was completely lost. Although, could I really be lost when I never really knew where I was to begin with? Shrugging and pulling the hood further over my head, I continued walking.

Not long after I felt something strong tug at my arm, spinning me round and smacking me against the wall of the closest building. Before I even had a chance to realise what was happening, thick fingers clamped around my throat, choking me and holding my small frame above the floor slightly so I was forced to stand on my tiptoes.
Warm air was blowing onto my face and, after I finally regained my vision from the temporary dizziness that had taken over, it was fairly obvious that it was someone breathing on me, their face only inches from my own.

A grungy looking man with dirt brown eyes and a shaved head was staring straight into my eyes with a threatening gaze. The breath caught in my throat as my fear only increased the longer my neck was being held. My dark hair had fallen over my eyes, but despite my face being covered the fear must have still been clear, as his grip loosened and I was able to fall onto my feet and catch my breath. Now I was being held against the wall by my shoulders, but I wasn’t complaining. At least I could breathe now.

“Gimmie all your money!” The guy screamed at me, his repulsive breath hitting my face again. Wow. That was original. Despite the cliché of it all, fear gripped me again when I noticed the five other guys surrounding us, all looking as hard and threating as the guy currently shouting in my face.
“I- I don’t have any, I swear!” I stuttered, choking on my words multiple times.
“Don’t lie to me!” He screamed again, pulling his fist back in a threatening motion.
“I’m not!” I begged, clenching my face up in preparation for what was going to happen next. The preparation didn’t seem to do anything as his fist collided with the left side of my face, sending a searing pain through my head.
“This is your last chance,” He said, calmer but somehow even scarier this time. His fist was still hung in the air by his own head, positioned ready to attack again.
“I don’t have anything,” I whimpered, defeated before the fight had barley even started. His fist collided with my face again, catching my eye this time. From previous experience I knew that it was going to leave me with a large black eye, but I couldn’t focus on that right now. Before I had really recovered from the last hit, I felt an impact on my stomach and noticed that he had begun to go for other areas of my body.

He was just preparing for another hit to my gut when I heard a calm voice say over the chaos, “Joshua.”

The guy holding me froze instantly, and I thought I saw a brief hint of fear flash through his eyes, but that could have just been my imagination. “Josh,” the voice said again as the small surrounding crowd parted to reveal another man walking forward. He was average height and extremely skinny, covered from head to toe in black; black boots, black skinny jeans, a tight black button up jacket and finally messy black hair. Due to the lack of light, I was unable to see his face other than the threatening glint that dominated his hazel eyes which were currently staring at the man holding me; Josh, I presumed

Josh’s face contorted in anger and his hand tightened against my shoulder causing me to gasp slightly in pain. The eyes of the man dressed in black briefly flickered over at me before settling back on Josh.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Josh spat at him, “This isn’t any of your business.”
“Well, I’m making it my business,” He answered calmly. The five men surrounding us had shuffled as far away from this new person as possible, whilst still trying to seem as though they were tough and not afraid at all. They were failing miserably though. Their entire demeanour had changed from being threatening and confident to unsure and even slightly scared. I wondered what could be so threatening about this new guy. He didn’t seem particularly strong from his thin, lanky body and from his relaxed but even slightly awkward stance, the idea of him hurting anyone seemed like an impossibility. Still, I wasn’t exactly complaining about the effect he had had on the muggers.
“Why would you do that?” Josh stuttered, slowly becoming more unsure of himself as he realised that his backup was backing down.
“He’s just a kid, Josh. Even you’re better than that,” I was slightly insulted that I had been classed as a kid when he didn’t even know me. I was 18; Yes, only recently, but I was still legally classed as an adult. I was on my own. I wasn’t a kid! I could take care of myself. Although by looking at my bloody lip, bleeding nose and black eye, I think others may beg to differ at the last one, but that was irrelevant. In any other situation I would have voiced these thoughts, but right now I didn’t think it was exactly going to help the situation.

“Why does some punk ass kid matter to you, huh? I thought you were better than everyone?”
“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” He said, his voice changing almost instantly from calm to venomous, “Now let. The kid. Go.”
“Whatever dude,” Josh said, shoving me against the wall again as he let go, “Do whatever you want with the kid, see if I care.” The words made it sound as though he was completely calm and collected, but his breaking voice made it clear he was getting scared and was giving in before a fight started that it was evident he knew he would lose. With that, Josh and his five accomplices crossed the street and disappeared down another ally way. My saviour watched them until they disappeared from sight completely and then he turned to face me.

“You okay?” He asked me.

“Yeah! Absolutely peachy!” I said sarcastically whilst dabbing lightly at my dripping nose. I thought I saw him wince slightly when he realised how stupid the question was that he asked, but I couldn’t be sure because I still couldn’t see his face clearly due to how dark it was. The threatening look had left his hazel eyes and now they just looked like the eyes of any normal person, but they were still the only feature of his face that I could see.

“C’mon, this way,” He sighed, turning away from me.

“Where are we going?” I asked. Why the hell would he just presume that I would follow him wherever he went? He may have just saved my ass from the other guys, but from what I could tell this guy actually seemed more dangerous. In that moment the last words that Josh had said flashed through my mind. ‘Do whatever you want with the kid’. What did that mean? For all I knew he could be a murderer; coaxing his victims into believing that he was the good guy, luring them back to his creepy basement and then killing them in some evil and gruesome way that involved a lot of blood and guts. Wow, I watched too many horror movies.

“I’m taking you home, obviously,” He said, still walking away from me towards a car that was parked a couple of meters up the road that I hadn’t noticed before. To be fair, I did have more important things to focus on back then.
“Um, I’m okay, but thanks for, uh, y’know, saving my ass before,” I rambled nervously, unsure of how he’d react to rejection.

“Are you kidding me!” He shouted angrily, spinning back towards me, “Are you trying to get yourself killed!” I subconsciously stepped backwards, surprised by his quick mood change especially after him being so calm before. Now I definitely wasn’t getting in that car with him. I was going to walk, no, run away and keep on running until I knew that there was no way he would be able to find me. Something kept me standing there though, in front of this strange unstable man who had already returned to his calm and relaxed manner. “I-I’m sorry,” He stuttered, losing his confident face, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Despite everything within me screaming at me not to, I found myself mumbling a small “it’s okay,” in reply. It definitely, most certainly was not okay.

In all my years growing up in Jersey, even if I was in the upper end, I was constantly finding myself in the run down areas, surrounded by murders and theft. Never once was I mugged or threatened or even scared of someone. I come to New York, supposedly the city of dreams, and in merely half a day people have tried to kill me twice! Well, only one actually has. The other I’m certain is in the process right now.

“It’s just, you kids,” He paused, trying to find the right words, “You always think it’s funny to come around here, thinking none of its true and it just gets annoying watching you get your asses kicked.”
“First of all,” I started, “I’m not a kid. I’m 18. Second, what the hell are you talking about? Thinking none of what’s true?”
He paused and looked me up and down with his curious eyes. I had no idea what he was trying to see, seems as it was far too dark out on these streets to see anything, but from his gaze it was evident he was able to look at everything, and he was. I fought the urge to cover myself. “You honestly have no idea what I’m talking about?” he asked, confused.
“No!”
He paused a while longer before sighing, turning and heading back towards the car. “Come on, get in the car. Where do you live?”

By now I had decided that if I had somewhere to go I would have taken my chances and climbed in the car. The things he was saying and the way he was saying them scared me. There was a secret about this place. A rumour. A myth. Something that had spread that people didn’t believe, that was in fact true. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I wanted to be able to go back to my comfortable home, have dinner with my parents where we would talk about our day at the table, I would watch TV and then fall asleep late at night in my bed surrounded by my favourite cd’s, books and dvds, protected by the walls of my room that were covered in posters of my favourite bands.

Instead I was here, in the middle of a freezing street in New York. The adrenaline had worn off and I was beginning to feel the pain in my toes, fingers and ears from the cold again. Thankfully at least the bitter wind from earlier had died down, but it barely made a difference now that it was so late that the temperature had dropped well below zero.

All this time I had been standing with my hands stuffed back in my hoodie pockets staring off into the distance, lost in my own thoughts. I hadn’t noticed that the man dressed all in black had opened his car door and was now leaning against the inside of the car door, staring at me intensely. “Frank,” he said slowly, “You do have somewhere to go, right?”
“Um,” I debated in my head whether to admit the truth, and decided that there was no getting out of this, “Um, no, no I don’t.”
“What were you gonna do tonight?” He asked after a few seconds.
“I dunno,” I mumbled, staring down at my feet, “Probably sleep on a bench or something.”

A few seconds passed before I felt something on my arm. My head snapped up to see that he now had his hand resting lightly on my arm, sending shivers that I couldn’t decipher up my arm, and he was looking at me with sympathy in his eyes. Wow, he was quiet when he walked. And breathed. And did well, anything.

The close proximity meant I was better able to see his face. It was smooth and incredibly pale, although that could have just been the lack of light. It was obvious that he was still quite young, perhaps early 20’s. He had perfect cheek bones and full lips that stood out slightly against his skin and his black hair hung over his forehead, hanging just above his eyes. I couldn’t help but think he was absolutely beautiful. Way to go Frank, you just called a guy beautiful.

“C’mon,” He whispered caringly, “You can come and stay with me for tonight. We’ll figure something out tomorrow, but right now it’s too late for that.” And with that I let him guide me towards the passenger side of the car. He opened the door for me and I sat down, then he leant over and plugged the seat belt in for me.

The weight of the day had finally crashed down on me, and it was overwhelming. All the way from the emotionless funeral, right up to the life threatening moment only a short while ago. I couldn’t even find the energy to sit up in my seat, so instead I sat slumped in possibly the most unattractive position imaginable and tried to not show too much emotion and instead keep it behind a wall in my mind.

I hadn’t noticed but at some point my nose had stopped bleeding and the blood from my cut lip had started to crust over. I subconsciously brought my hand up to my face to push some of the hair out of my eyes and winced when I accidently touched my sore eye that was now swelling up, making it difficult to open.

I let myself be engrossed in my thoughts as my saviour got into his side of the car and began to drive down the road. “I’m Gerard, by the way,” He mumbled quietly, flashing me a crooked smile before focusing back on the road. It was in that moment when I was about to introduce myself too, that I realised something. He had called me by my name before. I had never even told him my name.

Notes

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