Signs Misleading to Nowhere

2 Weeks Later--7-11 on the other side of Jingletown
Being a street rat so far wasn't actually that bad. I still have my job at Murder City, the best damn bar in this town. Punks and miscreant only, and even then, you had to know Sherif just to get in. I might not have the dream life, but I had a job, a place to stay, my beautiful car, Isabellea. and my Green Day stuff. Oh what sweet life this is. Free; from my hellish family and home, able to do what I want, no restraints. I walked into the store, browsing around. I eventually ended up grabbing a bag of sour gummy worms, a giant bottle of water, and a pack of Marlboro Reds.

I walked up to the counter, after the granny in front of me finally left after counting out her her payment in all change. What posses people to do thing like that? Honestly!

"Hey Haushinka, what's up?"

"Nothin' much, Ty. The usual, ya know? Still ridin' on my high from being free." Ty was the clerk at the 7-11 that I got my cigarettes from, and he only works from 5 to 10 in the evenings, on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, so it was kinda hard to get my cancer-sticks.

"Same as last week, huh? Well that's all well and good, but, uh," Ty subtly looks around us, trying to spot an eavesdropper, then lowers his voice, "you-know-who came around my house yesterday, asking if you had asked Sherif yet, about, well, you know."

I sighed, "I haven't, but I'll do it tonight, I've got work in," I glance at the clock behind the counter, "like 30 minutes, so I'll come by tomorrow and give you her answer. I dunno how she'll take it though, you know how much she hates them first-hand."

"Yeah, but still, I don't feel like being shot two times in the back of the head* because you're to scared to ask a simple little question," he whisper-shouted at me.

"I'm NOT scared...just a little bit wary, okay?"

"Whatever, man, but do it soon, Haushinka, okay?"

"I told you, I'll do it tonight!" And with that, I threw my money down on the counter, and stormed outside.

23 minutes later, same place

I snubbed my fourth cigarette out on the ground, and pulled out another one, just trying to calmed my anger at Ty. Couldn't really blame him for being like that, I would be to, if I was being threatened like he was. Lighting it up, I took a nice, long drag, and then let it out in to the warm, late May air.

Suddenly, I heard the end of "80" by Green Day, playing from somewhere I couldn't see. I finished off the verse as it got fainter.

"I do not mind if this goes on
Cause now it seems I'm too far gone
I must admit I enjoy myself
80 please keep taking me away
(Away)

Everything she does questions my mental health
It makes me lose control
I just can't trust myself"

"If anyone can hear me slap some sense into me
But you turn your head and I end up talking to myself
Anxiety has got me strung out and frustrated
So I loose my head or I bang it up against the wall..." I sigh as the song finally fades away. "Damn, I love Green Day, I don't think I'll ever get enough of them," I quietly mutter to myself. I finally get up off my ass from sitting on the concret infront of the only 7-11 in town. This was my third most favorite place in Jingletown, even if I hated this shithole. I flick my ciggy to the ground, and stomp it out before walking back to my car and getting.

As I glance at the car clock, I nearly choke on my own spit as I realise that I'll be late for work if I don't peal out now. "FUCK! Fuck, shit, damn, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCKITALL! Good god this this sucks. I can't be fucking late," I yelled and cursed the whole drive to Murder City. Sherif hated when people were late, especially to work. Thankfully, I made it with just thirty seconds to spare, no joke.

"I see yah made it, eh Haushinka? Almost lahte this time," a southern voice drawled from my passenger side. I looked over to see Sherif there. Shit.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that Sherif, I lost track while smoking a cigarette at the 7-11. I'm not late though, and this is my first time even coming close to that, so I'm asuming you being out here has nothing to do with that. What's goin' on?"

"A cop came bah lohkin for yah earlier, didn't tehll me nothin' on why he wanted tah see yah. You know what happens tah those who talk ta the cops, Haushinka," she told me. I was scared, nothing good ever happens to kids that talk to the cops. But that's the thing...

"Sherif, I haven't been talking to the cops, at least in the way you're thinking!" I saw Boneyard walking towards us, "In fact, the only cop that I've talked to in the past two weeks is Paul, my cousin, and most of the cops at the station love me. What did the cop look like anyways?"

She looked a me over the top of her shaded glasses, sizing me up to see if I was telling the truth, "He was tallish, brown hair, white, but pretty tan. Blue eyes, he had a pair of converse on instead of the usual shoes. Sound familiar?"

I though for a minute, converse, converse, cover-Of course! He's such an idiot. I mentally facepalmed, then sighed. "It was one of my friends who knows a cop. There the same size in clothes. He does this all the time, his name's Kaleb Jeltern, but he goes by Jett on the street. He's pretty well known, maybe you've heard of 'im?"

She nodded, "Yeah, but tell him he comes 'round here dressed like that again, I wont stop Boneyard from shootin' him, got it?"

I gulped, sometimes I forget how scary without being obviously threating she can be. And knowing her, she'll tell Boneyard herself to shoot Jett. Although it would be his fault...eh. he could handle himself. "Will do, Sherif. Uh, I've got a question though, it's been bugging me for awhile."

"Yeah, what is it that yah need tah know, honey?" Thank god, she was back to the non-threating Sherif.

"I, uh, well..."

"Jus' spit it ouht already, would ya?"

"I've got a friend, and he needs a place to crash..." I trialed off, ot sure how she'd react.

"And yah want tah know if Ah can give him a place tah stay. What's 'is name? And why is he ouht on the streets? You know the kind Ah don't tahke in, Haushinka," she said.

"I know that, Sherif. He's on the streets 'cause his parents kicked him out after finding out he's doing weed, and that dropped out of school, so he got booted. Do you think he could crash at the bridge for a bit? Just until he gets enough money to rent his own place, you know?"

"I'll think about it. But there is one thing; you didn't tell me his name," she gave me "the Look". You know, the one that convays "tell-me-now-or-I'll-gut-you". Plesant, ain't it?

"...Razor. That's his name."