We Are The Criminals

I got up from the dirt covered cement, coughing the dust out of my lungs and dusting off my denim jacket. I lightly touched my bottom lip, looking at my fingers to see what I suspected, blood. Those damned Prisoners. I swear, all of them must be sadistic for thinking it’s fun to jump and beat up us Criminals, especially when they go out of there territory and into ours. I’ll admit, sometimes I wish I wasn’t such a pansy so I could carry around some switchblade or something when I’m in a situation like that. I never seem to be lucky enough to find a soda bottle I could use for defense when The Prisoners attack me. I’m not saying I’m weak though, in fact, I’m more than strong for my age, but those muscles seem to be useless when they attack me. Maybe I’ll never be strong enough…
I sigh, feeling a little relieved that they didn’t pull out a switchblade or something even worse on me. It’s happened to the gang and I before but we always had Kyle with us. He’s always carrying around some sort of dangerous object and is always trying to hurt someone with it. You especially don’t want to try to hurt one of us Criminals when he’s in a sour mood, Kyle goes ballistic. The thing is, he doesn’t even have to carry around a switchblade. His eyes enough are scarey to look at. As crazy and dangerous as he is though, I wish I agreed to walk with him to the gas station where Spencer works. None of that crap with The Prisoners would have happened.
I am glad that my little brother, Mikey, went with him. He was begging to walk with me but I refused. I just wanted to walk alone, but that obviously turned out to be a mistake. Now, I don’t really approve of Kyle hanging around my baby brother, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt him. Kyle just isn’t a good influence on Mikey, or anyone for the matter. The truth about Mikey is that he thinks he’s really strong and tough, but he isn’t at all. He’s very skinny and weak. I wouldn’t mind him thinking that so much if he didn’t love fighting The Prisoners as much as he does. Someone always has to be looking out for him and he finds it annoying just as much as we do, but for different reasons.
You see, I’m different from the gang. I make good grades in school and I love reading and drawing. None of them have the patience or time to actually sit down and enjoy a book, or look around at the scenery and draw a picture. Trust me, Mikey has tried to take an interest into the things I like, but he just can’t sit still for long enough. You can imagine the trouble all the guys go (or went) through in school. So in result, I do things alone. It does hurt that I have a group of friends who don’t even share the same thing in common as me because in my eyes, you become friends with the people who you relate to. But I would never leave them. They are my family and always will be. We take care of each other and pick each other up when someone falls. We relate to each other in the way that we’ve all been through and seen the same things together. I think that’s more important than liking to do the same things as everyone. Is it better to like things by yourself, or with four other people? Maybe I just have to find someone who enjoys the things I like and add them to our group…
I arrive at the gas station, happy to see my friends sitting on the bench smoking a cigarette. Boy, I do need a cigarette badly. They look over at me and wave, not noticing the beat up state I’m in yet. As I walk closer though, Spencer’s face becomes worried. I knew he would be the first one to notice and be concerned.
He gets up and walks over to me. “Did those Prisoners pick a fight with you again?” He lightly touches my chin and examines my face. This isn’t the first time The Prisoners tried to hurt me. I’m an easy target seeing that I am alone more than the other Criminals. They also caught on that I don’t carry a weapon or fight back. I just don’t believe violence will answer anything.
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. They didn’t pull out a blade or anything this time.” I answer, swatting his hand away. I appreciate him worrying but I just don’t like having my face touched. It’s weird to me.
Spencer gives me an annoyed look, then goes over to get a rag and wets it with water. He tosses it to me so I can wash the dried blood off my face and fingers. As I touch the newly bruised skin, I lightly whimper at the pain, but not loud enough for any of the guys to hear me. I can never show pain in front of them unless I’m hurt badly. It’s just not manly. For how strong I am, it would be strange to be so affected by a little fight like this one, especially when it was only skin to skin.
Spencer Jones is the oldest, smartest and most responsible of the group. He works two jobs, construction during the week and the gas station on the weekend. Since it’s only Mikey and I at home, Spencer secretly gives me the money he makes working at the gas station. I think about dropping out a lot so I can work to take care of Mikey and make sure he can stay with me, but Spencer insists that I finish my education. Even though it’s been five years since Spencer graduated school, he still got better grades than any of the other guys. That’s why his nickname is “Spencil.” He’s the most educated out of all of us. He’s very protective over us and doesn’t allow any nonsense from, well, anyone except Kyle. All that comes out of Kyle’s mouth is nonsense.
Speaking of Kyle Reed, he might be the most dangerous of the five of us. He plays everything by air and considers everything a joke. You almost always see his name and mugshot in the paper, then an article about what other store he robbed or person he beat up. He’s damn proud of it, too. Seeing that other than Spencer, I am the only one that reads the newspaper, he makes me cut out his “section” of the the paper and save it. Spencer refuses to do that because he thinks it’s just encouraging Kyle to go out and do more criminalistic things, but I don’t see it that way at all. Well, maybe I agree with Spencer to some extent, but what else does Kyle have to live for? Not much in my eyes, or anyone else’s for the matter. So if it makes him happy to see he did another bad thing, then so be it. He’s only really living up to The Criminals lifestyle.
Kyle’s parents are both deadbeat drunks, so he doesn’t really have a place to live. “I’d rather live out on the streets and eat stale food from trash cans than live with two people who think I’m invisible.” That’s the deepest thing he’s ever said about that topic, and we left it at that. It already took years of hinting to wanting to know just that, so me and the gang quit pushing him about his parents. Now of course we don’t let him sleep on the streets, so he either stays at my house or Spencer’s. I’ve caught on that he likes staying at my house more than the latter because I’m not as strict as Spencer. I let Kyle do anything he really wants in the house just as long as he doesn’t set it on fire or harm Mikey.
Mikey is the youngest of the five of us. He doesn’t look much like me, he’s taller and skinnier. Since he’s so weak, we make sure he doesn’t get into any drama with The Prisoners. His real name is Michael, but we call him Mikey because every Criminal has a nickname. I have one, but I hate it so no one uses it. I’m just plain old Gerard. I guess that name is unique enough, right? Mikey’s grades in school are okay, not the best, but passing. If it weren’t for me helping him and making him do his work, he would be failing or even worse, just dropped out. He thinks he’s stupid but that’s not the case at all, it’s just that we aren’t learning anything interesting. Mikey always makes sure we are all getting along, he likes spreading the love around.
I sit down on the bench in between Foster and Kyle. “Got a cancer stick, Foster?” I ask, already knowing he does. Foster always makes sure he has a pack of cigarettes with him at all times. He nods, passing me one. I pull out my lighter and immediately suck in the toxins. I was right, I needed a cigarette.
Foster is the most mysterious, and my best friend since elementary school. Foster isn’t his real name, but no one knows what it actually is, not even me. Hell, I think he forgot his real name by now. People have tried asking him, but it never really ended well. I don’t know, I think he has some sort of soft spot towards his name or something. When Foster was born, he was instantly put up for adoption because he was premature and the doctors thought he was never going to be fully developed, but they were just full of shit. Foster is completely fine and healthy, the only problem he suffers with is parents who only offered to take care of him for money benefits.They do care about him, but not as much as they should. He was originally born in Texas, but moved to New Jersey because of his adoptive parents. He isn’t fond of many people so he tends to always seem moody. He isn’t really, he just doesn’t really know how to socially interact.
He’s eighteen and has a huge liking for brunettes. He is always rambling on about them to me. I can’t share his excitement about it because I’ve never really been into dating and whatnot. It’s not about whether I’m straight or not either. I’m just not interested, I have other things to worry about other than hook ups and one night stands. I guess I share Spencer’s feelings about that in a way.
Foster’s sense of humor doesn’t really help him either. He thinks dark and gory things are hilarious so he’s always laughing when someone falls or gets injured. The worst thing that happened is when my grandmother died and he went to the funeral with Mikey and I. He burst out in laughter in the middle of service. It might be his way of coping with things, but it sure isn’t mine or Mikey’s. I never really forgave him for that.
I guess what you’re really wandering about is the whole Prisoner and Criminal thing. Basically, The Prisoners are the richer, more privileged, kids of the town. Criminals are the poorer and less privileged ones. Obviously by the way I keep talking about them and because of the fact that I just got beaten up by them, we don’t get along. Most of The Criminals don’t like them just because they are looked up to more, but the reason is different for me. They just don’t have emotion. All of The Prisoners act all the same, rude and too over the top. They are all just like robots. Us Criminals might show too much emotion, we express how we feel and don’t care if it gets us in trouble.
No one really understands why they are called Prisoners. If they were ever in a situation where they could spend time in jail, they have their parents pay to get them out. I don’t think one of them has even experienced what it’s like to be in jail or an actual prisoner. I don’t know, maybe there’s a deeper meaning to the name, but I can’t figure it out. There’s of course a middle class, too, but everyone decides to just leave them be.
The Criminals, to me, is a genius name. It’s straight to the point, no secret meaning behind it. Almost all Criminals have a mile long list of things on our police records. It feels like it’s in our blood to break laws, but really it’s just because of the way we were raised and who we were raised around. I am the most law abiding person in my group of friends, but I have still broken a few of them. It was mostly when I was younger though, when my grandmother was still around to back me up if needed. Now, since it’s only Mikey and I in the house, we both have to make sure to stay out of trouble. I can’t imagine what would happen if I lost Mikey because of something like that. That’s also why I keep my space from Kyle, you don’t know how many times I’ve almost gotten in trouble because of him.
A car pulls up to the gas pumps, and by the looks of the car, it belongs to Richard Smith. One of the most popular Prisoners. A lot of Prisoners get gas here because it’s cheaper, but I don’t understand why they worry about that, they are all filthy rich. It’s only cheaper here because this is the poor side of town and most people can’t even afford a gallon of milk, nevermind gas. It’s kind of insulting when The Prisoners get gas here because of that.
Spencer swears under his breath, always hating having to give them service. But he gets up anyway and walks over to them anyway. He only asks them what he has to, then avoids even looking in their direction. Once he’s done, the car wildly drives away and Spencer comes and sits back down. I watch the car, becoming confused when I see them go the opposite way of where they live.
“I get off work now. We can go to my house, I’ll cook dinner for ya’ll.” Spencer says, then goes and puts the money he just got from The Prisoners into the cash register. The guys all nod and murmur in agreement.
When Spencer comes back, we all get up and set out to his house. While we’re walking Kyle stays behind us, concentrating on kicking a rock. He continuously keeps making me trip over the rock, so I turn around and give a death stare. “If that rock hits me again, I’ll burn you with my cigarette.” I threaten, but all Kyle does is laugh. I roll my eyes, knowing in the back of my head that he would think it’s funny.
We all suddenly hear someone yell out for help, then it’s followed by a bunch of voices telling them to shut up. The group of us all look down the side street, seeing that same green car that was just at the gas station parked near the group of Prisoners, looking like they are beating someone up. The five of us run down the road as fast as we can, chasing The Prisoners as they attempt to run away. Spencer stays with the person who just got beat up, while the rest of us scream and pick up sticks and rocks to throw at the car as it’s driving away. Kyle latched onto the car somehow and was being dragged away with them, but eventually let go. If someone wasn’t hurt right now, I would have laughed at that.
We walk back towards Spencer and the boy. “Are you alright?” Kyle surprisingly asks. He never seems to care about things like this. Everyone else, except for the boy of course, notices too and gives him a confused look. Kyle doesn’t seem to notice though, and keeps looking at the hurt boy, waiting for an answer.
“Y-yes. Thank you for helping me.” The boy says shakily. The poor kid looks like he’s seen a demon. Maybe something like that never happened to them. I remember being almost as spooked as him when I got beaten up like him the first time.
“What’s your name, kid?” Foster asks, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it.
“Frank Iero.” The boy says, still trembling. I don’t know whether he’s actually a kid or not. He sure is small and looks really fragile, but when I look at his eyes and face, it tells a different story. I’m not going to ask yet, though. He needs to calm down a little more.
“Why don’t you come on over to my house? I’ll let you clean up a little and give you something to eat. You look like you’re starving.” Spencer says, then helps Frank up from the ground. Man, I wish I was as nice and caring as Spencer.
Frank’s eyes brighten, “I would love something to eat.” He says without any hesitation. The poor guy, he must have not eaten in awhile. I wonder whats wrong with him and why we’ve never seen him before. Everyone in this neighborhood knows each other.


When we arrive at Spencer’s house, he asks me to help Frank clean up while he cooks dinner. I lead him to the bathroom and I know we are both feeling really awkward. “You can just put the toilet seat down and seat on that.” I suggest. He does what I say while I get a rag and wet it, then go over to him.
“Do you want me to do it or…?” I ask, realizing it would be even more awkward to just touch his face without asking. It would also be creepy because he does look really young, but again, I’m not sure how old he is.
“You can if you want.” Frank replies quietly. I nod, chuckling nervously then dab lightly at his face. He hisses in pain but I continue anyway, knowing that it will be done faster if I don’t stop.There isn’t much blood, but he is bruised up pretty bad. His eye is almost swollen shut and his lower lip is busted. It’s going to take a while for him to heal, but he will eventually. I think there will be one or two scars that’ll be on him for a long time.

Notes

Hey! I hope you liked the first chapter! I'm sorry it took so long. I am finally on summer vacation and I've been having kind of a rough time. My English teacher and I were really close (nothing perverted jfc) and like he's the best teacher I've ever had. I found out that he's been trying to keep from me that he got a new teaching job in Boston but he told me the second to last day of school. I'm just kinda really sad about that because I could always go to him and trust him with things that were bothering me or if I was having a bad day. He promised we would still stay in contact but I'm probably never going to physically see him again so I'm just really down. I've been crying and stuff because he was literally the only one I could go to but now he's gone just like everyone else I appreciate. It's hard becoming close with people because it always ends up like shit for me. Sorry for my rambling... Just kind of wanted to vent and tell you whats going on.

Anyway, Please comment, rate and subscribe! It would cheer me up a lot.

^.^