Focal Enemy | ✔

Oppugnant (antagonistic)

“Out again?”

The tapping of Josephine’s foot against the tiles forced Theodore to look up.

“I’ll be an hour – two at the most,” he replied, shrugging on the first suit jacket his hands could find.

“Where are you going, then?”

“To see someone about a possible car deal.” Lies. How many could he tell before she caught on? “A customer wants some inside details about the prototypes that come in today, and according to my boss, it’s illegal to say anything, so I can’t do meet him in the showroom.”

Josephine looked almost impressed.

“Well, I’ll wait up for you,” she answered. A smirk played on her lips. “You know how I miss you when you’re gone...”

Theodore couldn’t see why. It wasn’t like he gave her anything to miss, but she sure gave him something. Stability.

#

“Pstt! Pstt!”

Theodore clung to the corner, peering helplessly as the familiar, skinny boy with the thousand dollar watch and designer clothes. He was fed, well fed, and Theodore supposed he would be.

Charlie turned his head to the side, and Theodore could see that it took him a moment to realise just who he was. How could he not recognise his own little brother?

“Theo?” Charlie approached him. “What do you want?”

“Food,” said Theodore, arching over with the thought of his empty stomach that would surely begin to eat itself if he did not find something. “I haven’t ate for four, maybe five days.”

A monstrous smile appeared on his face.

“Bet you wish you’d gone back with me now, don’t you?”

Theodore did, but soon her grabbed a whiff of a burger stall. Onions, beef – actual meat... Theodore felt like he’d been living as a vegetarian. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a burger. Maybe five, six years ago, before his parents were dead.

Charlie was the owner of one of those burger. He grinned and took a greedy bite.

Theodore’s stomach was pained.

“Can I have some?” he begged. “Please, Charlie? Help me, please.”

“No, you’re all right,” replied Charlie, after a moment of hesitation. “Was nice to see you, Theodore.”

Lies. Theodore knew that it was. It was not the first time he’d walked away, so what would stop him now?

Theodore sunk down the cracking wall, next to a gap where mice were attempting to smuggle cheese. What he’d give for a piece. A shred, even.

“You poor boy. Here.”

Theodore lifted his head barely in time to see a man pulling a bag of pastry pies from a shopping bag. They smelled like they’d be hot, but Theodore didn’t care if they were frozen. As soon as the bag was put in his hands, he began to tug on the grand feast with his teeth, tearing it to shreds to get it into his stomach before starvation caused him death.

“Thank you,” he said.

“How old are you, boy?” asked the man.

“Nearly sixteen,” spoke Theodore, swallowing a bite.

“What’s your story?”

“My story?” Theodore creased his eyebrows.

The man shrugged. “Yeah. Everyone has a story. I’m sure you do, too.”