Milo

Chapter I: Beginning

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       I never considered myself a kleptomaniac. I was simply just good at stealing. And like most people I liked doing something I was good at. The first thing I stole was a snicker's bar, I was seven but the guilt ate at me like no other feeling. But as time went on the guilt faded and was replaced with a sense of satisfaction. I started stealing cars when I had just gotten out of foster care, I was the best in my hometown of Wichita, Kansas. 

          It wasn't until I moved to New York City and become one of the employees of a certain powerful man that I started making money. I was at the very bottom of the totem pole but the pay was good for someone who otherwise had nothing. I would steal a car, take it to Farrah's car garage and she'd use it for parts, making cars for Mr. Vicario's illegal street racing.

       The day started like they all did, sitting in a gas station parking lot, a blue raspberry slushy in hand. Simply waiting, waiting for the perfect car to pull into the lot. I breathed out, creating a white ghost in the air. It was getting colder as the days went on, but I didn't mind it though. 

         Tucking my legs closer to myself, I adjusted on the rough sidewalk. It was twilight, the time between the late hours of night and early hours of morning. After about a few minutes a 1967 ford mustang pulled into the parking lot.

       A smirk grew on my face. This was the one, it had pretty good parts and an efficient engine. I quickly finished my slushy, getting a brain freeze in the process, and chucked it into the trash. 

        Once the car was parked a couple got out, from my vantage point I could see the way they swayed from side to side. I could see that they were under some kind of influence, which only made my job easier.

       I watched as the woman who was driving the car moved to the backseat door, opening it with aggression. She was yelling at whoever was sitting there.

       "Stop crying! I can't believe I had you!" The woman screamed, her voice reaching me.

       The woman pulled her hand back, the said hand hitting the person she was talking to. I walked out of the dark corner I was standing in, driven by curiosity. The sight I saw only made my stomach churn. The person who was sitting in the backseat was a small toddler. The man who was with the woman looked unaffected, seemingly used to the scene in front of him.

       My hands shook, memories pouring into my mind. Memories I had pushed back into the dark caverns of my brain and hoped to never experience again. I watched as the woman closed the door and walked to the gas station bathroom, the man following close behind. If I was correct they were going to take a hit of whatever drug they were on. Hesitation was usually unfamiliar to me, but now it filled the air. I tuned out the devil and angel arguing on my shoulders and walked to the car.

        The door was open.

        With my hood pulled up I got into the driver's seat and looked into the back. The child had to be no older than 4, with bruises littering his face. Some fresh and some old. I didn't even want to imagine the number of bruises hidden under those clothes. 

        His body was far too thin and he was sitting without a car seat, which I was sure he was supposed to have. He looked at me with droopy eyes, he looked like he had completely given up. I shook my hands out, getting back to what I was gonna do. I was really going through with this.

        I grabbed a screwdriver out of my pocket, sticking it into the keyhole. I turned it and heard nothing, so I moved onto the next step. With quickness, I unscrewed the steering wheel column. I found the bundle of wires, finding the right ones and maneuvering them accordingly. I connected two of them, twisting them between my fingers. I let out a sigh when I heard the godly sound of the radio. I twisted the screwdriver again, the engine coming to life.

       I took one last look at the toddler, his eyes still glassy as they looked back at me. I tried to ignore the clenching of my throat and the shaking of my hands and put the car in drive. I drove on autopilot, letting my rational thinking click off and before I knew it I was driving into the car yard I knew all too well. The piled cars surrounded the stolen ford looked like metallic mountains.

      Once the car garage was close enough, I parked. I went up to the large metal sliding door and knocked in the form of a specific rhythm. It instantly opened causing me to quickly slide back into the car and pull into the garage. When I looked back at the kid he was fast asleep. I breathed out shakily.

       Farrah was standing in the large warehouse, a wrench in her hand. She had a bright smile on her face, one I couldn't reciprocate. I parked the car and got out, only then did she noticed the grim look on my face.

      "What did you do?" She asked, her smile dropping.

       I shrugged, biting my lip and gesturing to the back of the car. Farrah walked to my side her shoulders immediately tensing. I averted my eyes away from hers, deciding to look at the ground.

     "Why is there a child in the back of that car?" Her voice was nothing but a whisper.

     "I found him like that Far, I couldn't leave him." I shook my head, my voice cracking. "I couldn't."

       "What are you gonna do then? You can't just kidnap a child, even if he's being abused if you get caught... You're fucked." Her voice raised, echoing throughout the empty car garage. "And what about Mr. Vicario?"

       I was silent.

      "Did you even think of that?" She snapped, moving away from the car, away from me.

      "I'm leaving tonight." My voice shook, reality was setting in quickly.

      "Don't do this. Take him to a police station, they'll see the bruises. You're risking too much." Farrah spoke with frustration.

       "The police won't do shit. They never do! I know that fact all too well, they didn't help me, Farrah." My voice completely broke this time, tears filling my eyes. "And I know they won't help him."

       She ran her hands through her long black hair, shaking her head swiftly. "Leave the car, I don't want to be a part of this."

        I nodded my head, ignoring the clenching of my throat. Farrah had always been there for me, she was the closest friend I had. But I guess she could only take so much of my shit.

       "I'll figure it out, I will." I muttered, most likely trying to convince myself more than her.

         Farrah didn't respond, instead, she walked away, ignoring my existence. She clenched the wrench in her hand and began working on a car. I wiped a warm tear from my face. Opening the backdoor of the car I had stolen, I saw that he was now awake. I gave him a kind smile.

       "We'll be alright buddy, okay?" I whispered softly.

        He didn't respond verbally and looked at me through teary eyes. He reached his two hands towards me. I was confused until realization struck, he wanted to be held. I unlocked his seat and picked him up, he was lighter than I expected. I could feel his ribs through the large sweater he wore. He buried his face in my chest, making me even sadder than before. He was already growing on me. I patted his back lightly.

        I opened my mouth to say goodbye to Farrah but instantly closed it. Leaving with a heavy heart I walked to the entrance, exiting out towards the junkyard. When I got to the street I walked a couple of blocks before I saw a taxi. I got in, pulling my hoodie over my head and pulling the boy close to me. From this moment on my life would change for the better or the worst.

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authors note: hi! i hope you enjoyed the first chapter of 'Milo' if you did, leave a vote and stay for the ride! also comment so i know what you're thinking <3

also, where are y'all from? :)