Runaway Life With Rock Stars

Chapter Two and a Half

Bob asked, “What type of topping do you want?”

“Uh, either type of topping," I quietly responded, eying the boxes of pizza.

“I’m afraid we don’t have that type of topping," Frank cut-in sarcastically, reaching over to grab a slice. “Here, give this slice a taste. It's pepperoni.”

I ate the slice like a savage as they starred at me while in their minds they said, “Whoa...Did someone release Jaddus The Monster-Who-Eats-Pizza-In-Seconds here? I don’t believe this!” After I talking notice of their astonished glares I chuckled nervously, “Ha-ha…sorry…I can explain…”

Ray curtly said, “Don’t you owe us an explanation already?”

Frank stopped chewing to accuse, “Oh yeah! You were gonna tell us about your ‘explanation' remember?” He finger quoted the word as he said it slowly, followed by squinting eyes.

Gulping along what was in my crowded mouth to take a drink of the delicious Pepsi to help slide down the food, licking the grease off each finger of both my hands. Meanwhile Bob, Ray, and Mikey’s pizza hung in the air before reaching their mouth; Gerard’s mouth left open wide with pizza barely being bitten; Frank had stopped chewing as his jaw dropped as his mouth remained closed. I blushed saying, “Yeah, well...it's just that it's to good…”

“Dude, it's like you haven’t eaten in days!” Ray began. “I mean it’s incredible! World Record, I declare!” He exclaimed.

“Well, yes. I actually haven’t eaten for a few days,” I clarified.

Chewing the last of his pizza, Frank said, “Well that explains why you’re so thin! You must have weighed like feathers when Gerard carried you inside!” Turning to Mikey, he said, “Your brother carried her, and you didn’t carry me? I weigh the same as her! You racist!” Frank squinted his eyes at Mikey.

“What! Frank, you have two feet that God gave you to use; She fainted and had to be carried.” Mikey defended with truth. “I didn’t sign no contract saying I would be carrying you like a baby, anyways!”

“Oh, I see...So if I faint you’ll carry me, right?” Frank figured things out slowly as he rubbed his chin. Putting the back of his hand to the top of his forehead, he said faintly, “Because...I feel…sort of…queasy…augh," his pierced tongue stuck out to the side of his pierced mouth as he fell onto of Bob’s shoulder, who pushed him off and Frank rocked onto Ray's, who brotherly said, “Get off, Frank, I’m eating.”

One of Frank’s eyes opened, tongue still out, which made it a bit hard to understand what he said softly, “Sorry Ray, but I’ve fainted and Mikey needs to carry me now.”

“Carry you where?” Mikey asked him as if he were an idiot. “Your already on the bus!”

A pause.

“Oh yeah…” Frank sat up.

After taking seconds of each box, in total there were eighteen slices that were now being digested in my tummy. Chewing stalled time for me to find the words I was going to say to them.

“It all started when I was five or four as far as I could remember when my mother abandoned me at this train station. I had this little blue backpack she had bought me on our way there, she had stuffed cookies and a water bottle along with some money before she left me, and she shoved a picture of herself in my purple overalls. It was all useless back then, I mean, she was abandoning me and she didn't explain any of it...as if all the things she was giving me that moment would tell it all. A kid older than I had been watching us from a corner when she had put in the money in the bag, and I know 'cause I saw him. When I was left on my own wandering around the station looking for my mom, he came over to tell me that my mother sent him to take me home—I didn’t know any better! I followed the stupid kid and he took me to this lonely alley where he ripped the bag off my shoulders and punched me so hard I fell as he ran off.”—In my head I argued: Stupid Hobo Boy! Why did I follow you!

“I walked alone throughout the city by myself and a child from a building raced from inside to fetch me. It was an orphanage and I stayed there for a while; a group of kids and I escaped from there because it was unpleasant. Thin blanks on cold nights, kids would puke the meal served from the table because all the ingredients were spoiled, the old woman had no patients for children. I lasted a year without complaining much about it as others would. Sometimes I wish I’d have stayed, but then thinking over, there wouldn’t be anything for me there.

“On the night we escaped, Cindy and I—you know? My make-believe sister?” I refreshed their memory. They nodded and I continued. “Well, we were by this bridge and a truck kept honking at us, I think I driver was drunk or something, so we ran the other way fast and when we were sure the truck was gone, we walked. She was at the edge of the road when I told her to get off because looked dangerous. She was about to until her shoelace got stuck with a thorn bush right when we were coming down the bridge and she slipped…and died. I blame myself for not being able to catch her in time.” At this point, silent tears slide down my pale cheeks.

“It's not your fault, Jaddus. It was probably just fate," Gerard comforted. "Maybe it was already her time to go."

I tried to keep my voice steady to commence. I didn't want to accept her death either way. “It's just that I get nightmares of how it happened most of the time I sleep. The blood and her scream for help, missing her hands to catch her as she fell down forty-feet…it's still scary for me.” Sniffing, wiping the warm produced tears off my face I shrugged and moved on to what came next. “I ran away. I freaked out! I was only six or so when I began living in the streets. The cold and humid nights spent inside a park’s tunnel was the only shelter I could find. The days—I just spent them looking for something decent to eat like a few scraps from restaurants, and if I couldn’t find anything I skipped a day or so without eating...

“All I can remember from the fuzzy memory is that—I guess I was seven, I don't really know my age, heh-heh—these guys snatched me off the street from downtown in Manhattan when no one was looking—not that anyone was there anyways—and I was thrown in this dark van with no windows. There were other kids there, so I thought it was like a field trip for kids who lived in the streets—and I was a foolish child to think that. Before I knew it I was tied up and so were the others. It was a very long drive until we were separated in cages like stray dogs in a pound. That’s pretty much how we were treated after that—like dogs. We ate off of unclean bowls. There was always slim around the water and the food was so soggy that it looked like baby’s heave.

“Many of had runaway, though it wasn't likely to work for everyone; I'm lucky to escape often from them, but not all the time because I was found before they I reached out the factory's territory. Eight of the twenty kids there had either been lucky to escape without being caught, or had died from hunger or of abuse.

“When I was at least eight and a half, I had saved a piece of tape the night before so when the cages were automatically open for us to get out and work, I slipped the tape on the lock thing and when I we came back, they all closed—except for mine and I waited until everyone was asleep to sneaked out and I made it.

“I had spent a few weeks around the city after the long-ass walk, a couple dropped their groceries and I was willing to help them in exchange for a piece of fruit. I carried their groceries to their home as I lied to them saying I was on my own because my mother and father were murdered no one knew I existed because I was their secret in the world and I was left alone with no one after their death. They took me in after that day and they fed me well, they taught me a lot of different things; some of it, I thought wasn’t crucial, but I didn’t protest, but most of it was cleaning and cooking which had grown into a habit since I got used to doing after doing it for so long just so they wouldn't kick me out.

“They were on the poor type of people and they didn’t have money for a babysitter to take care of me when school hours ended, the woman would drive me to the house and locked me in there so I'd clean it while she was working.

“In school, I was such a loner. All the kids would pick on me for random reasons or none. Even the teachers! I hated all the schools I had to go to.” Clenching my teeth and fists hard to keep calm, I continued after a moment of deep breathing, “Just to get them off my back, I’d fight back. But I’d always be blamed even when it was them who started it. Stupid preps! I’d break their noses or giving them a few purple eyes just to look after myself, but I’d always get referrals and when it was enough I'd be expelled.”

I gave a slight chuckle at a memory. “One time, this boy kept pulling my hair and calling me names. He pissed me off after the sixth warning and I turned around to him and kicked him real hard in his crutch. That day I was expelled because I had broken the dude’s bird. He won’t be having any kids when he gets older. Ha, ha! He’ll remember me for that.”

They giggled nervously, yet they were so caring to listen. Resumed to the subject of matter, I began once more, “The couple took mind of me until they thought I was a hopeless child who was only good for making trouble. They had decided to stop sending me to school after breaking the boy’s dick. I was their slave for the remaining time I spent with them. My room was a washroom and I was locked there once I had finished cleaning and eating. They didn’t want me going anywhere to cause trouble. The reason I hadn’t walked away from them is beacause I still had some sympathy towards them, since they were the only ones that gave me a chance—also for the fact I was terrified the kidnappers would find and capture me again.

“But then one day, things went wrong. The woman had gone to the grocery store for some dishwasher soap and some spices but was also on her way to catch the subway to get to a dry cleaners for a coat she bought for herself, but her husband hadn’t known that part of her story—he was told that she was going to get her reward—," I finger quoted, “—from working hard at the store she worked in, was rewarding her with that coat, but real, the mailman bought it for her. Her husband was wasted when she left and he wanted to abuse of me; but I kept backing up and rejecting him. I ran into the kitchen, where he still followed to try and get me, but I threatened him with a knife to back him off.

“He snatched the knife when he distracted me with the most hurtful words that cannot be erased from my brain’s residence. Earlier that day before he had come, I had scrubbed the floor which still wet when I dodged him from the knife swing and it caused him to slipped and hit his head against the counter. He was knocked out and only for a minute or two when he…he sprang up and I wasn’t aware of it until I felt a warm sting on my side—,” lifting the shirt, I showed them my scar. For sure when they had dressed me into Gerard’s shirt, they weren’t peeking because they were amazed at the deep and thick scar imprinted on my right side. “Then…he slipped and fell again, stabbing himself with the knife,” I slurred out quickly, avoiding eye contact with them. Taking a deep breath, I presumed—to the real story whatsoever. “Just like in the movies, the woman entered the house, found it quite and roamed around the house to find us both in the kitchen; Mr. Samuels dead on the humid floor with a puddle of blood and me in a corner, knees covering my face as I cried with blood draping my clothes. She thought of me the wrong way and I was sentenced claimed as ‘a trespasser who murderer her husband while she was gone.' Of course, I hadn’t bothered to explain anything to plead myself innocent, since I had a bad permanent record already from the expulsions at various schools and all. They were allowed to get away with it to say I was someone they've never seen in their life because of the schools I was sent to, they signed their names as something else and they were in no evidence of knowing me and Juvenile was my next stop. I managed to get my way out of there.

“But what sucked is that after that, the kidnappers found where I was and gave me a ride back to the factory. So, from New York to Los Angeles is shocking to know; I'm guessing all the mini-van rides with Tony and his gang along with other kids was to make our way selling products across the country. As always, I’ve tried to escape from them, but they'd always find me. You know, this is the longest I’ve lasted out in the world without them having to tackle me down in some random street since the last time I tried to get away, and having them explain to the people that were around that I stole something of theirs and was going to be taken to the police station, which was a total lie; but not this time. I made a run-for-it when they weren’t looking but, hey, they must have this little alarm thing every time I escape 'cause know when someone is trying to escape. Next thing you know I'll find a tracking device up my ass. Luckily, Tony is to cheep for that, but I have a feeling he’s considering getting one of those. But, anyways, I lost them and bumped into Charles before I knew it and met you guys after. You guys saved me, thanks.”

Frank asked almost immediately, “Who’s Tony? And are the Samuel the people who took you in?”

“Tony is the dude that kidnaps little children off the streets to work for him. And, yes; those are the Samuel,” I answered dully when it was about Tony and breathless when it came to the Samuel, in that way of trying to erase the past by avoiding their names when they were spoken of.

“Seems like your life’s been a wreck. Welcome to the club, Jad,” Frank embraced me with a hug. Never have I had one of those in years, so I didn’t know how to respond—it felt…so…awkward!

Gerard spoke, “We won’t hurt any of what's left of your shattered heart.” If it was a pigment of my imagination, I think he was looking at me suspiciously. Uh-oh. Had he detected something?

“Hey, one question. In that train station, are you sure you were abandoned? I mean, weren't you left there to climb in the train,” Ray asked curiously.

I shrugged. “Weren’t you listening? That stupid Hobo Kid tricked me and took my bag. Even if I did have a ticket I didn’t have it after that Hobo Kid taking it. By the way, wouldn’t a mother have waited to take her child in the train to seat me or leave me in charge with one of the attendants there? If I hadn’t remembered the last words she’d said, I would have thought she and I got lost in that huge train station. Don’t speak Ray, I’ll tell you those words, I remember them, they were: I hope I could be with you, Hun, but its not possible. Don’t forget me, I’ll try to stay alive so one day we could see each other again. No hug or anything after those words, really; she just sniffed and turned to speed-walk away.”

Changing the subject, jolly Charles announced, “Well it's late. Get some sleep, boys, you need to get up early tomorrow for Las Vegas!”

While they all got up to go to their bunks for rest, Gerard stayed behind to stare at me. Damn! He did know! I made it obvious! I wonder if the other fell for it or not…

He didn’t say anything. He just sat there quietly once everyone had gone to the other room. "Ahem.” He cleared his throat. Please, please don’t say anything about it, I pleaded in my head to him.

“Hey Jad!” Mikey called, coming back to where we sat. Phew! Saved by Mikey, yes! “Are you tired?”

“To tell you the truth, yes I am,” I answered my lie almost to quick. It was for convenience right now, to be honest; I feared that Gerard had caught me and “sleep” would probably save me from the truth of my monstrosity in my past. Hopefully Gerard would forget about it in the morning. Mikey seriously said to me, “Well go home or sleep outside! We got no room for you here!” Gerard laughed but tried to hold most of it in. It was a joke, right?

“Sure,” I answered insecurely, standing up.

“Wait! I was just kidding, ” Mikey stated honestly. “Want to keep sleeping in my bunk? I want to finish watching the movie. I could doze off in the sofa.”

“But you’ll wake up with a stiff neck!” The tone of my voice sounded concerned with worry.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. This—," he pointed, "—is a sofa, not a couch. Big difference, you know.” I nodded to his knowledge. “So where do you want to sleep then?”

“Anywhere will be fine for me,” I answered.

Frank came from the bunk-room, and said with a toothbrush in his mouth, right before he ducked into the restroom, “We don't have that type of furniture.”
If it was suppose to be funny, it only reached to get me to slightly lift the corners of my mouth. As you’ve noticed, I don’t really smile. Laughing…Whoa! That would be rare! Unless I laugh all serious and dry.

I went to the bunk room and Bob showed me which was Mikey’s bunk (I had forgotten which one it was since they all looked the same). I thought of these friendly people as I drifted to sleep. They accepted me for me so far...except for Gerard’s suspicion…oh my God! What if he tells the other? I pushed the idea out of my diseased mind. Hitting the bed like a truck unloading cargo, I was dead asleep, well—almost. I wouldn’t be surprised if they would state how much snoring I had done in the night. It would be my fault if they blamed me for their bad sleep.

In my fading conscious, though, my Daemon was saying Don’t worry about Gerard. I’ll deal with his Daemon, though everything will be fine because I don't think he's the gossip type, he seems honest, your secret's safe…