Deadly Knives and Permanent Scars

Four cigarette butts laid by my feet as a fifth cancer stick was perched between my lips. Ever since I had walked Kara home from school this afternoon, I had been trapped in my head, trying my best to figure out what I was going to do about Grey. He was an idiot for laying his hands on her, knowing damn well that I was her best friend and I knew for a fact that I had to get him away from her somehow.

I took another drag of poison, inhaling it into my lungs before watching the smoke drift past my lips and into the air. My eyes were locked with the little wisps as I pulled out my phone, checking the time and letting out a loud sigh. It was half past midnight and I had been hiding out on the rooftop of an abandoned building for about three hours.

Throwing the cancer stick down onto the concrete, I smashed it with my boot to put out the flame before shoving my hands in my pocket. I knew it was a long night ahead of me if I decided to stay trapped in my head, and I knew that I had to do something to just be able to think straight once again.

Slowly, I made my way down the emergency ladder of the building, ducking down an alleyway for just a moment when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket only to see a text from Sorcer.

Kid: I ran away from home. No one wants me.

“You idiot,” I muttered to myself, opening up the keyboard before sending him a quick text:

Where are planning on going?

I slipped my phone back in my pocket, sighing loudly before running a hand through my hair. I never expected this kid to be so much trouble, but ever since we crossed paths a couple of days ago, everything seemed to have gone crazy.

As I continued to walk down the alleyway, watching my back with every step, I heard someone mutter something in a voice that sounded all too familiar...

“Who's there?” I shouted, voice rough as I tried to make myself seem more dominant than the person in front of me.

My lips were pulled in a tight line as I heard a feminine voice say, “Jasper, it's been so long.”

The color drained from my face when I realized whose voice I was hearing as my voice cracked, “Mom?”

The sound of footsteps running away filled the alley as I caught someone running past the end of the tight brick hall and my feet were carrying me forward before I could even realize it. My breath was ragged as if I had ran miles and my heart was thumping loudly in my chest as I ran out of the alleyway only to find the sidewalk empty, as if no one had ever been there.

“Mom?” I yelled out, eyes frantically looking around as I caught the gaze of someone standing across the street from me. Sorcer stood there, eyes wide as I tried to get my mind back in the right place. I knew he had just seen one of my weak points and I knew that I couldn't allow that kind of thing to happen.

“J-Jasper, what are you doing out here?” He asked, voice cracking as I tried to regain my composure. I had to act like he hadn't seen what had just happened. No one could know that I was still searching for my mother after all these years.

“I could ask you the same question. What did I tell you about being on the streets this late at night?” I snapped, realizing that maybe my tone was a little too harsh when I saw the younger male wince.

His gaze held mine for only a moment before he looked down at his feet, mumbling something. I couldn't hear him so slowly, I made my way over to where he was standing before I heard him say, “No one wants me around. I'm just a failure son...”

I felt bad, watching the younger male put himself down before I sighed loudly, “You're not a failure.” His blue eyes glanced up at me before I continued, “If you were a failure, I wouldn't have given you one of my favorite knives, or my number for that matter.”

He didn't say anything, but I could see his lip quivering as if he was about to cry before I said, “I assume that you don't want to go home since you ran away, so how about I take you back to my house; I can't promise that it'll be any better though.”

With my words, all I could think about was my father and how he would react if he knew that I had brought someone home without him knowing... I had done it in the past though with one night stands and he had never seemed to notice then; how would it be any different with Sorcer? He was probably passed out on the couch anyways, too long gone to care about what was going on around him.

Blue eyes bore into me for a long moment before he nodded his head and I sighed, before gesturing for him to follow me. I just hoped that he didn't ask any questions about what happened right before the two of us ran into each other.



Sunlight filtered into the room through the cracked bedroom window. Sorcer was dead asleep on the bed beside me, arm wrapped tightly around mine as if I were some sort of stuffed animal. I sighed, glancing over at him, noticing how peaceful he looked, his lips pouted as he mumbled something incoherent in his slumber.

He looked kind of cute.

I pulled my arm away from his instantaneously, sitting up as I realized what thought had just ran through my head. To me, he was only a child; someone who was still unable to realize how bad this world was, even though he was attacked just a few nights before. I couldn't think of him as cute; that wasn't like me at all.

Slowly, I climbed off of the bed, pulling out my pack of cigarettes before lighting one, staring out through the blinds on my window. It was a little sunny outside and I knew that the two of us probably needed to be at school, but I had no idea if Sorcer was up to that kind of thing; especially if he ran away from home.

I flicked the ash off my cancer stick into an ashtray I had laying nearby and took a seat at the edge of the bed. Sorcer rolled around in his sleep before I saw him stretching out his arms, eyes opening slightly. I noticed the fogginess in one of his eyes from where he had been attacked and a part of me felt bad for letting that happen to him.

“Jasper?” Sorcer mumbled, glancing over at me as I looked back at him.

“Good morning, kid,” I muttered, taking another drag before he shuffled over to where I was laying, sitting up slightly.

He looked up at me before saying, “Can I bum one off of you?”

I rolled my eyes, pulling one of the cigarettes out of the pack before handing it to him. As he lit his own cancer stick, I noticed scratches on his hands and arms. It looked like he had been in a fight and I slightly wanted to ask him about it. There was no telling what he had ran into while he was running around in the night.

As wisps of smoke drifted past me, I stared at him a little longer than necessary, seeing more markings on his body. He had a bruise on his cheek and another cut across his lip and chin. There was a spot of dry blood near his nose and it dumbfounded me a little bit.

There was no doubt that Sorcer had been in another fight.

“Did you run into anyone last night?” I asked him, the question slipping from my lips as a piece of hot ash dropped on my arm and I wiped it away as it stung for only a moment.

“There was a couple of guys in the alley. They came at me not long before I ran into you. I tried my best to defend myself, but they punched me a few times before I tried to pull out the knife you gave me,” he mumbled as I put out what was left of my cigarette.

“How did you get out of it, kid?” I asked, standing up, walking around the room.

He looked down for a moment before he muttered, “I was able to pull the knife. I-I'm not very good with it, but I cut one of the guys across the shoulder as he was trying to hold me down. The other one just happened to have seen the knife I was using and ended up running off. He said something to his friend about if I was using the knife then I had to be around someone who knew how to take them down.”

I chuckled softly, remembering the knife I gave him. As I had told him previously, it was one of my lucky ones and it had been used more than enough to defend myself. It was also a one of a kind as I had someone make it for me; the markings on it would have been recognizable to anyone who knew me very well.

“They've seen me before then,” I said, laughing to myself as I opened up my closet door, pulling out a pair of jeans and a shirt.

“How many have you fought?” He asked, his question sounding innocent.

I tugged my shirt over my head before sighing to him, “Too many to count.”

He just looked down as I pulled my shirt on, quickly trying to get dressed as I checked the time on the clock. It was almost an hour until school started and I knew it was a bit of a walk to get there.

“Do you need something to wear?” I asked him, glancing over before he looked up at me with that one dark blue eye.

“Uh... Where are we going?” He asked.

“School. Do we need to stop at your house to get clothes or do you want to borrow some of mine for the time being?” I asked him, turning my back as I tried to finish getting dressed.

I heard him sigh softly before he muttered, “Can I borrow yours? My mom doesn't go into work until 10, and I don't want her to see me like this... I don't even know when to go back home.”

I threw a couple things at him from my closet before saying, “You're fine. I know what it's like running away from home... Also, we're going to have to leave through my bedroom window. I'm sure you remember coming in that way last night.”

He held the garments in his hand, staring down at them for a long moment before saying, “Do you have problems with your parents too?”

“My mom is gone. Dad is a drunk. It's cliché, but I'd rather not talk about it right now. We don't have time to kill because I've got too many absents already,” I muttered, opening up my drawer with all my knives, pulling out two of them before shoving them in my pocket.

He nodded and I lit another cigarette before muttering, “We've all got problems, kid. You're not the only one. I just get over mine by fighting.”

He didn't say anything, just pulled on the clothes that I had handed to him before I grabbed my jacket.

“Come on; let's go.”