Bitch

Kris wasn't as laid back as everything thought he was. Deep inside the tiniest flick of a switch could set him off. That's exactly what drove him homeless. He'd always been some what of an erratic child. He couldn't even predict his own actions at times. The smallest things could tick Kris off and send him into a rage.

It had all happened so simply and so quickly. Kris used to have a good life, in his eyes it was still good but he used to have the perfect life. Good and caring parents that were always there for him. He had plenty of friends and good grades. Well, they were alright and at least he had definite good future planned out. But it was just that one little thing that had ticked Kris off. They say that apparently even the beat of a butterflies wings could cause a hurricane on the other side of the world. That was what it was like for Kris. He seemed kind and gentle on the outside but on the inside he was fuming about everything and was angry at the world.

His parents had been good to him, they'd been there for him through the darkest times of his life. Kris would be dead now if it wasn't for them. But it was just the beat of that butterflies wings that had caused the hurricane. It had all started out so simple and so facile. They had started an argument over a TV programme! It had been Kris's father to start with: eye goggling some woman on the TV. That had annoyed his mother, watching as Kris's father commented on the presenter's 'fine ass'.
"Oi! I am here y'know!" His mother had laughed, taking it as a joke at first.
But then Kris's father had taken it a tad to far, pushing past the joke. "She's hot though," he'd commented.
Kris had seen it then, watching his mother's face twist from amusement to jealousy. "Prettier than me?" She'd asked quickly and Kris's father had suddenly looked at her briefly, realizing his mistake.
"No, of course not. I mean. She's on TV so they must be edited or something," Kris's father had babbled and Kris had even cringed at his bad choice of words.
"Oh, so you do think she's prettier than me then!" His mother scoffed.
"Come on love, that's not what I meant!"
"I'm sure it's not!" She'd snapped, turning away.

Kris had gritted his teeth together at that, it was pathetic. How could you argue over something so pathetic? His dad was only having a little fun, that's all. He hadn't meant his mother any harm but his mother had taken it all the wrong way. Why did they have to be so stupid? Couldn't they just watch TV without getting jealous or arguing about something. Why did his dad have to be so thoughtless and why did his mother have to be so darn sensitive? It scared him really. He'd only been twelve years old at the time and seeing his parents argue like this over something so lucid was just depressing. Was this really what is was like in the adult world? Was this what he had to deal with again in the future?

Without thinking Kris had stood up at that and simply walked out the room. His parents hadn't noticed neither did they seem to be interested either. Kris just started walking towards the front door until he was finally out into the cool algid night. He'd only been wearing a T-shirt and jeans but that didn't matter because he needed some fresh air and time to cool off. But that time had soon turned into hours as Kris had wondered further and further into the wilderness of the streets. Life was pathetic and so was everybody living it. People complain about the smallest of things and it's so futile.

As Kris had continued his stretched out walk he'd actually begun to realize how trapped he'd become in a world so hopeless. So sterile. That one argument had been a clear example of how pathetic people are. Life could give you everything it had to offer if you treat it well. If you study well, you could get a nice job and possibly become the richest person on earth. If you gain the attitude towards helping others, one day them others will help you too.

That night Kris had walked to the deepest parts of New York, he'd seen homeless and the desperate. He'd witnessed poverty to it's fullest and it fascinated him completely. His family had been arguing over some female presenter on the TV but here were people without homes to actually watch TV in. How could they just be left here to starve? Why wasn't anyone helping them? Was humanity really so selfish as to just simply walk past someone who could be dead the next week if they didn't have something to eat fast?

That night Kris had decided that he wasn't going back home to his arguing parents. He was going to stay. He wasn't going to return back to a life that was so pathetic that a couple who had been together for 15 years simply argued over some fake presenter. He wanted to help people. He wasn't going to become his parents. They'd been good to him but it just wasn't something he wanted to see every day.

Kris looked down at himself now. He inspected his mud caked worn out leather boots, the frayed material of his shabby checked wool shirt and faded baggy jeans which were ripped at the hems and torn at the knees. His ruffled brown hair was uneven and shabby after being cut by himself with just the help of a bathroom mirror and a pair of blunt scissors. He was grimy having not showered in days and there was a layer of fresh clean stubble forming across his stern jaw. But Kris would never go back to his parents. Sure, he felt guilty and he missed his parents thoroughly. But people still needed help, kids needed him.

He'd saved Alexus's life but it just wasn't enough. Kris wanted to save all the kids from off the street. He knew it was impossible but he was going to try his best. These kids deserved that much. They'd managed to survive the streets so far and some of them had never even been to school before. Most of them were orphans and some of them had no one left to care. While the rest of society snuggled into their comfy homes and watched Doctor Who on a Saturday night while chomping away on potato chips. He didn't regret the decision he had made that day 8 years ago.

"What's that?" Chantelle's annoyingly high voice suddenly called and Kris suddenly swung back into the shadows.
Yes, he was still stalking them. Isaac had ordered him to do so and if Isaac wanted someone being watched then he was serious about it. And Kris understood his accusations fairly well, Malcom had a heavy past behind him. Stuff that made even Kris have his doubts about the boy. He understood why Isaac wanted Kris to keep an eye on Malcom.
"It's probably a cat or something," Malcom assured her. "Jesus, stop being so jumpy. You're making me nervous," he chuckled as Kris watched them continue their walk.
He'd been at this all day and so far Malcom hadn't kicked off. Which didn't surprise Kris at all. Malcom hadn't kicked off in years, it was just Isaac being superstitious...but hey, with Chantelle being so important, you couldn't be too careful about the situation.

The two began to take a turn, travelling further and further down the street and Kris always kept a safe distance and constantly let his head hang low. It was getting darker now and the temperature was beginning to drop. Kris was itching to get back home to Alexus but he knew he couldn't come off duty until Malcom and Chantelle were safely back at the underpass. So far they hadn't seen him all day, they seemed too interested in what they were doing to be honest.

But it was as they turned another street corner as Kris started to realize where they were heading. He knew New York fairly well, he could walk around with his eyes closed and still be able to find his way back home. And he knew this street all too well because he'd come here earlier in search for Kyle and Edwin. Malcom and Chantelle were heading towards the bridge, where the others had gone missing. What were they doing?
"So here's what we do. The next kid who gets a letter we have to follow them to this meeting place. Then we act," Malcom explained as Kris started listening in on the the conversation.
He couldn't believe his ears.
"But what do we do if they decide not to go?" Chantelle asked.
Malcom shrugged. "We wait for the next kid to receive a letter," he explained.
Chantelle smiled. "Sounds good," she nodded.

Kris backed away from the bridge, shaking his head. Were his ears right or was he just going mad? Maybe he'd caught the wrong end of the stick. It couldn't be. Malcom wouldn't go that far would he? Had his sudden outbursts turned into mysterious plotting? It was a mad accusation but Kris just wasn't sure he could trust Malcom with Chantelle anymore. Why were they waiting for the kids to go to the meeting places and what the fuck were they planning on doing once the kids got there? Had they been a part of it all along or had they just heard about it? He needed to report back to Isaac.