The Beginning of The End

Part 12

I didn't think moving back into a warehouse would be as difficult as it was. I mean, this wasn't my first time having to go from a nice, clean bed to three wooden crates stacked under a mattress. Maybe it was because I wasn't leaving anything behind last time. A dead foster dad and a school I hated. That was it. But, Mark was actually nice to me. He fed me, played video games with me and actually talked to me. Not just, "how was your day, how's school" like most grown ups, he actually cares about what I have to say. New trap ideas, music, whatever I want to say at the moment. I wish all adults were like that.

I closed Angelina's door for what would probably be the last day, clutching my backpack. I was wearing the same cargo pants (well duh they were my only pair of pants) and the t-shirt he gave me. Still, about three sizes too big. My boots dragged on the carpeted floor, even with all of the socks I own on my feet. Mark insists that I'll grow into them but I really think my feet have stopped growing.

"Ready to go, kiddo?"
"Yeah, and I'm not a kiddo." I said putting air quotes around the "kiddo" part.

"Uh huh, talk to me when you pay taxes." He said walking out the door.
"But you don't even pay taxes!" I yelled, running after him. Once again, Shoes. Too. Big. I fell flat on my face, my backpack splitting open and spilling its contents onto the ground.
"Jesus christ Ronnie, take it easy." Mark said, helping me pick up my shit.

"Well maybe if you didn't have big ass feet, I wouldn't be on the ground." Mark picked up my phone right as it buzzed.

"Who's texting you?" He said, confused. The phone I had was a gift from John, only himself, Mark and Amanda are allowed to be the ones in my contacts.
"I don't know, probably Amanda or something." I said dismissively, snatching the phone back. It was a flip phone, an old thing that barely stood the test of time.

"That didn't look like Amanda's number-"
"Well then maybe it's a spam thing, I don't know!" I shouted, catching him off guard. Smooth Ronnie, very smooth.
"Okay fine, let's get going." Mark eyed me suspiciously, but I kept my cool. I could feel my phone burning a hole in my pocket, I knew exactly who had finally texted me. Daniel.

The drive to Gideon's warehouse was long and awkward. All I wanted to do was to answer Daniel's text, but I knew I couldn't risk pulling my phone out.

"Alright, we're here. Are you sure you don't need my help or anything?"
"Nope, I'm fine. Bye!" I said as quickly as I could, slamming the car door closed. He drove off to work and I knew he was still heavily suspicious of me. But I didn't care, Daniel had finally texted me! I know I know, it's risky and stupid. But I couldn't just leave him forever. I'll figure out some lies so I can see him soon. See him soon! I'm going to see Daniel again!

Gideon's meat packing plant was much bigger than our old warehouse. It had three, maybe four stories I couldn't tell. I eventually found my way to where Amanda and John were set up. John was getting worse and worse for wear. He needed to be pushed around in a wheelchair permanently, and seemed to breathe more from his oxygen mask than without.

"Hey, I'm here."

"Welcome home." John coughed weakly.

"How are you feeling John?" I said, already fiddling with his oxygen and IV's making sure they're at the right settings. Amanda shooed my hands away, "He's fine Ronnie, go unpack your stuff."
I found my "bedroom" quickly. This time it only had one curtain for privacy, lucky me. I stuffed my bag under my bed, pulling my phone out. One message.

"Ronnie" That was it, just one word. My name. And it looked like Heaven on a phone screen.
"Daniel! I was worried I wouldn't hear back from you!"
"Where are you?"
"Somewhere safe, don't worry."
"Is that the truth?" Is it?
"Yes, I promise."
"When can I see you?"
"I'm not sure yet, soon."