The Phantom

Chapter 1

Ally P.O.V.

Fourteen years later

    "C'mon, Ryan! They're right behind you!" I called.
    "If anyone should be worried, its you! You know I ran track in school, right?" He called back playfully as he zoomed up next to me. Ryan has been my best friend since I was born. If you ask me to my face, I'll say that he's like the brother I never had. But, if you really wanna know the truth, I wish we were more than that.
    Ever since our parents died in the attack on our church, he's been my protector. We both had to grow up fast. He was only eleven and I was only ten when it happened. To everyone else, it was just another sob story of how some homicidal extremist thought that blowing up a church was the only way to prove himself. But to Ryan and I, it was the end of our little worlds.
    "This way!" I say, snapping back from the painful past to the still painful present. As we turn the corner, we find ourselves in a back alley. There doesn't seem to be a way out. We're trapped.
    "Agh, I told you we shouldn't have stolen those guys' lunches." I say, worry and fear spreading across my face. As always, a pit began to grow in my stomach as my body prepared itself for a panic attack. As my hands began to tremble, my brain conjured up thoughts that threatened to end me, and my heart sped up so that I thought it would burst, Ryan recognized the all-too-familiar signs.
    "Ally, this is not your fault." He said, grabbing hold of my shoulders. "We needed food. You know that we would be put in the system if we go to the homeless shelter, so this was our only option. How were you supposed to know that they were undercover cops? Those guys are crawling ALL OVER New York City. We can't go into the system." He says, tilting my face towards his. "We can't get separated."
    Just then, out of the corner of my eye, the sun glints off of it just the right way for me to notice it. Behind a trash can next to the brick wall of a building, there's an air vent.
    "C'mon!" I shout-scream at Ryan, pulling him towards the vent. I push him through first, hearing the footsteps coming closer and closer. Then, as I begin to shimmy through, the footsteps continue to grow louder and louder. Finally as I come upon an abnormally large cross-section in the duct, I spin around and lock the vent behind us. Just as it clicks into place, the two men burst into the alleyway.
    "Where the heck'd they go?!" One of them exclaimed.
Then, the second one replied with "Must've been magic or somethin'."
    There it was again. As he said the word "magic", something inside of me, I don't know, came alive. I know, it sounds cheesy. But, I just can't help it. I've always been drawn to the mysterious and unexplained. Magicians, disappearances, scientific mysteries, phantoms, you name it. Honestly, its the only thing keeping me alive at this point. Well, "magic" and Ryan.
    "Al-ly," Ryan coaxed, yet again having to get me out of my own head. He could tell that I'm off my game. I've been like this ever since my fourteenth birthday two weeks ago.
    "Two weeks," he said, practically reading my mind. "Two whole weeks," he said, emotion in his voice. "Ally, I may not've paid that much attention in health class when we were kids, but I do remember one thing. If someone is sad or can't get out of their own head, or has panic attacks every single night for two weeks for god's sake, something's wrong."
    I was about to deny it like I always do, brushing it off with sarcasm or a tease, when I finally looked at him. His dirty blonde hair was messily swept to one side, attempting to hide the scar he had gotten a year ago from protecting me from some thugs.
His face that was once so full and had rosy cheeks was now smudged and gaunt. I hadn't realized how skinny he's gotten. Although, he does always make sure that I eat first. No fifteen year old should have to decide who eats first.
    Wait, he always ends up getting enough to eat somehow. He hasn't been eating right because of me. Because of the way I've been acting. He hasn't hinted to it at all, but I can tell when I finally focus on his eyes.
    His eyes weren't always the way they are now. Once, when we were kids, they were green with bits of yellow, glowing with mischief like a cat's. Now, the space around his eyes is more hollow, and he has bags under his eyes. He's been hiding it from me, but I know that at night, he stays up to watch over me. Just like I stay up so that my vicious, lucid nightmares can't swallow me up whole. Even his actual eyes are visibly different. Now, there's a sort of glaze over them, almost as if they'd rather not see the living horror of the streets of New York City. And, as he catches me looking at him thoughtfully, the glaze becomes a mist as his eyes well with tears.
    "Ryan...I'm sorry." I say, my breath catching like it always does when I'm fighting back tears. As one slips down my cheek, he reaches over and wipes it away. I do the same as one slips down his. Then, with smiles that hide so many things that we want to say, we move down the vent.

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    After what seems like an hour of endless wandering in the vents, we begin to hear voices from another room. Ryan signals to me to be quiet, and we creep towards the voices. We find ourselves peering into a huge warehouse store. Hundreds of people milling around, clothes hanging on ginormous floor-to-ceiling walls, there were even signs for sales hanging from the rafters. Even after "living" in New York for almost four years, we had never been able to come even close to a place like this. Kids like us don't exactly fit in in a place like that. As I look over at Ryan, I see the gears spinning in his mind. Then, he grabs my hand.
    "C'mon!" He says, a twinkle in his eye. Man, I miss seeing that everyday. He pulls me towards the exit of the vent, and unlocks it. Then, I follow him as he steps out of the vent gingerly and begins to walk around the perimeter of the store. Adults begin to notice us as I begin to panic. When he finally notices them, he tilts my face towards his and then the fun began.
    "Baby, you know I'm sorry. I should've known that dirt bike riding would be a horrible idea for a date."
    "Yeah, well that still doesn't make up for the fact that I got dragged through the mud, scraped by tree branches, and didn't get to eat for the whole day!" At this point, everyone in the warehouse was starting to stop and stare as I pretended to be angrier and angrier. The thing is, they weren't staring at us because we looked like we were homeless anymore; they were just too captivated in a teenage boyfriend-girlfriend fight. Jeesh, priorities people.
    "Well, I'm sorry that I wanted you to have a fun one month anniversary. AT LEAST IM TRYING!!!"
    "OH, YOU WANNA PLAY THAT CARD!?! WHO WAS THE ONE THAT HAD TO CONTINUOSLY REMIND YOU OF OUR ANNIVERSARY IN THE FIRST PLACE!"
    "Excuse me?," interrupted one of the workers.
    "WHAT!" We replied simultaneously.
    "Um, well, ah, p-people are beginning to c-complain, and, I-I don't want to lose my job," squeaked a teenage boy. "If we let you each pick out a free outfit, would you please leave?"
    As I look over at Ryan, I can see him hiding a smile and know that maybe there's still hope for him having a normal future.
    "Ugh, fine," I say, rolling my eyes. Then, as I stomp away from Ryan, I can see the whole room breathe a sigh of relief. Including Ryan and I.

Hi everyone! I'm so sorry this was such a long chapter. I'm kind of new to this whole thing and just wanted to make sure that I built a good base for you all. I hope you enjoy!

P.S. Ally and Ryan both talk with Western Pennsylvanian accents. If you want to know how that sounds, its kinda southern/woodsy. I don't know, just have fun with it. Also, I will talk briefly about one of the characters from my friend's fanfiction in the next chapter.