The Ties That Bind

Prologue

Prologue

      The woman roughly jerked the small boy to his feet after the third time he tripped from being dragged through the dark, rain-slicked streets. The hour was past midnight, which was much later than the small boy was used to being awake - he longed for the comfort of his pile of tattered blankets in the corner of the tiny room in the apartment he shared with the woman (she refused to let him call her mom or mother, though that hadn't always been the case); the blankets formed what he thought of as his 'bed'. The woman slept in a nice, soft, king-sized bed in her room, which she frequently shared with her wealthy lover. The rest of the apartment was nicely furnished too, it was only the boy's room where all amenities were lacking. At the moment, the pile of ragged blankets on the hard, wooden floor of his tiny room seemed like it would be heaven, and heaven seemed equally as far away.

     On the evenings when the woman's lover called, she'd order him to remain in his room and warned that he would be punished if he came out. As a result, he had rarely caught more than a glimpse of the man through a crack beside the door to his room when the man visited. The man was well dressed, always wearing expensive clothing which felt out of place in the tiny apartment. The boy didn't know the man's name, but if he were to be honest, he didn't know the woman's name either, having always called her "mom" in the past, and more recently, "ma'am".

     The light rain continued to fall, soaking the boy to the skin. The rain had also turned the dirt road they were on into sticky, thick mud, which made the woman's bad mood worse.

      "Hurry up, brat!" She berated as she dragged him along behind her. He was used to such words from her since his father left, although he was not at fault for their current situation which was beyond his understanding. She'd never taken him out at night before. 

     Earlier in the week, the boy had overheard the woman telling the man that she'd "do something with the kid". The boy wondered what was meant by that; he'd always stayed quiet in the room as he was ordered. Was he here, being dragged down an unfamiliar road in the middle of the night because he'd done something to anger her? The boy couldn't be certain, the woman had barely spoken to him at all for the whole of the evening - unless it was to yell at him.

      The boy was cold, wet and tired; never a good combination, but he knew better than to make a fuss. Ever since the woman had demanded his father leave the two of them, she would yell and scream at the boy just because he looked too much like his absent father. He knew very well the reasons for her anger - she made sure to tell him - and sometimes, though not very often, she would hit him; usually only when he made a fuss, so he did his best to never make a fuss. 

     Some time later - it felt like an eternity to the cold, wet, five-year old - a large, ominous looking building rose out of the mist ahead. By now they were back on a paved road again, so it was easier to keep up with the woman; though her grip never lessened and was starting to cause his fingers to tingle. The ominous building frightened the boy; enough that he stopped thinking about his sore wrist and tingling fingers, and let his thoughts turn to the dark building that was clearly their destination.

     When they finally stopped, they were standing in front of a pair of large, wooden doors, that looked so big the boy didn't think he could open them by himself. The woman tried, briefly, to open the doors but they didn't budge, not even a little, so she set down the small suitcase she had been carrying in her other hand (the hand that didn't have a death-grip on the boy's wrist). It was an old suitcase, about the size of an airplane carry-on (the boy didn't know what that was), that had been stored in the back of the woman's closet back at their apartment. The boy's curiosity about it was piqued, but he knew better than to ask questions that the woman probably wouldn't answer anyway, so he remained silent.

     The woman didn't quite know what to do now, having expected the doors to be open - even at this late hour. She thought about it for a minute, then pulled the boy over under an eave overhanging the doors where there was a little bit of shelter from the worsening rain (not that she cared about that). She set the suitcase down next to the boy and told him that he was to wait here, and someone would come get him. She reached into the pocket of her fancy coat - a gift from her wealthy lover - and took out an envelope.

     "Give this to the person who comes to get you." She told the boy, ordering him once again to stay, then she turned and quickly made her way back down the road they had walked along just a short time ago.

      Within a few moments the woman was swallowed up by the misty, rain filled darkness; the frightened boy, alone in a scary place at night didn't know what to do. He didn't hesitate too long before he dropped the letter by the small suitcase and ran after the woman - the only person he knew in the world, but she was already gone, vanished into the inky night. The boy turned, looking one way, and then another, but there was no sign of the woman who had dragged him to this scary place. He stood in the middle of the dark, wet, rain-drenched street, and for the first time in his short life he was truly alone, and very frightened.