Rusted Bullet.

Neighbors.
What were they useful for?

They peak out the windows of their homes, and creep into your business. They listen to your every word, every syllable to leave your lips. They stake out your house, watch who enters and who leaves. Who knocks on your door, which leaves a package?

Nosy little things, that’s what they are.

Nikolina could feel all sorts of eyes on her as she opened the door to her house. She knew of the sneaky little eyes behind the dark curtains of every dirty window of every house. The condo complex most thought was a private place was anything but, especially with the judging eyes of the neighbors.

They all thought she was a whore, and she knew it. But she didn’t care, it didn’t bother her. She lived in one of the grittiest parts of New Jersey, in an even dirtier complex. The Realtors called the place the ‘clean spot’ in that part of Jersey, but it was anything but. The seemingly innocent stray cats and dogs roamed the complex, searching for a home, eventually living in many of the inhabitants’ backyards.

Once inside, shielded from the evaluating eyes of her fellow citizens in the place she called home, a feeling of relief came across Nikolina. But as soon as she heard the thudding, the loud heavy footsteps of her mother approaching her from the kitchen, that feeling left her.

A very sour old woman appeared, her hair disheveled and her apron stained with whatever sauces she was cooking for dinner. Her eyes held an icy look in them, the woman hardened to the core from years of abuse and labor.

With a sour look upon her daughter she shrieked, “Sto kasnis!” (Why are you late?)

Although sounding more like a statement than a question, Nikolina answered nonetheless, “Vani, pusti me.” (Out, leave me alone.)

If there was one thing about her mother that she could not understand, it was her nasty attitude. Nothing the child ever did was right, was ever good enough for her. She had to find fault in every little thing she did, causing the girl to just give up on doing anything to please her.

Nikolina then started up the stairwell as her mother’s expression changed to one of disgust, “Nemoj tako pricati smenom! Koji ti je kurac.” (Don’t talk to me like that! What dick is up your ass [which is like 'what’s up your ass'])

“Aaaa…” Nikolina began coolly. “Mozda ko si me pustala na miru kad sam dosla onda nebi vako postupula...” (Ah, well maybe if you left me alone when I came home, then I wouldn’t act like this.)

Nikolina continued up the stairs, fed up with this pointless conversation turned into a fight. Her mother could be so difficult sometimes, even in her native tongue.

“Di ti!” Her mother barked back. (Where you think you’re going – in a rude sense.)

Nikolina scoffed and looked back down at her. She knew she was gonna be in for it later for saying this but snapped back regardless, “A di mislis da idem?” (Where you think I’m going?)

The shrieks and catcalls of her mother came back at her but she ignored it, running up the stairs as fast as her weak legs could carry her. It was an obvious answer to an obvious question. They have only one other floor besides the main floor and the basement, just like at the Way household. So there was only one other place she could be going, and that was upstairs. Nikolina would’ve understood the content of the question better if she were heading, say, down the stairs and out the door.

Stupid foreign woman.

The pots and pans in the kitchen seemed to slam themselves against each other in a loud symphony of sounds. The tone of such noises made Nikolina cringe, but she knew her mother was only doing it to get at her since she knew it too.

But when her mother had ceased, another loud crash sounded outside of the house. Nikolina raised an eyebrow, her hand outstretched to enter her room but she slowly crept to the bathroom, which faced the front of the house. Sliding the curtain that blocked the window aside a little so she could see out into the complex and her eyes landed on a sight she didn’t necessarily want to see at that moment.

Funny how she had suddenly turned into one of the nosy neighbors, huh?

Not sure of the case, or how it happened, all Nikolina knew was that across the street, in front of the Ways house, all of the trash cans were knocked down. And in the middle of them all, in a heap, lay a boy with dark, raven hair. Hair no one would know that his mother desperately wanted him to cut, but had not succeeded. It covered his face, his pale and pasty skin glowing slightly in the dimming light sundown showered down into the complex.

The clicking of heels sounded out suddenly, and then it increased, the steps getting heavier and faster as the owner of them rushed over to the garbage cans.

“W-what are you doing?” She asked the young boy, staring down at him. When he only giggled instead of giving a full response she sucked the side of her teeth. “Tell me you’re coming home trashed again!”

“Nah ma,” he said, grinning at her with his small teeth, long hair still in his face and blocking his view. “I think the real question is if you are coming home trashed again!”

The boy fumbled around in his pockets until he pulled out a 22 oz. can of Budweiser and shook it at her, slurring, “Want a drink?”

“What kind of alcoholic failure are you trying to become?” Mrs. Way shrieked at him, her face contorted into anger. “You throw your life away for this stuff and end up just like you’re supposed to, in the middle of all that trash.”

“You,” Gerard began, still slurring his words slightly as he tried to sit up. “Should not be talking about throwing lives away and ending up in trash. Have you seen where you live, bitch?”

The woman he called his mother spat on him, giving him one last disgusted look and stormed off towards her house, folding her arms. Gerard waved her off and stood up fully, looking down at the mess he made and laughed, knocking stuff over and began to rip open one of the bags.

“Nikolina, tvoj pijan decko je u smece opet,” Nikolina heard her mother snicker from downstairs but ignored her. (Nikolina, your drunk boyfriend is in the trash again.)

Only Gerard.

A familiar feeling crept into Nikolina’s stomach, fear rising up her spine in small tingles. Quickly, she flipped the lid of the toilet seat and anything left over from that day exited her body and stained the once clean surface. She dry heaved once or twice after before sitting back on the cold floor, tipping her head back as she took deep breaths.

The only positive was that she didn’t have to use her fingers that time.