Under The Wing Of A Gangsta

Runnin' Cures The Cold

I hid away in that warehouse for a few nights. I would go out and get what I was in need of during the night under the cover of darkness, and would rest during the day. It caught up with me sooner or later, and I decided to take a night off.

I nibbled on an apple I found in the fruit shop, and I had found a $20 note on the floor from the other day, so I'd been able to get myself a pair of black cargo pants with a few pockets. They were comfortable and agile. I'd also found a cheaper brand of converse, so I'd bought a pair of black converse style shoes that came up above the ankle.

I still had my small jumper, but I never really wore it. The tiny light green jumper stayed in my bag, but I wore it on during cold nights. Underneath my jumper a had a white crop top that finshed just under my bra.

As I slept on my night off, I heard yelling and gunfire. I sat myself up quickly and hit my head on the desk I was under. Rubbing it, I kneeled over to the window. I looked toward the large roller door, on the opposite side of where I originally entered. I saw a tall white teenage boy run into the warehouse. He turned around often to fire a few bullets at his pursuers, which I hadn't yet seen.

He ran to the other side of the warehouse, and skipped his way up the stairs. I heard the clinking metal under his heavy boots, and I scurried back under the desk to grab something I found out behind the butchers.

He slipped through the partially open door, and raised his gun toward the door. I feared that if I moved, he would shot first, and ask questions later. I stayed in my position, kneeling down, leaning over my legs and my arms over my head. As I looked at him, I studied his figure.

He stood firm with his rather large handgun, his muscular arms and flat stomach tense. He was rather skinny under his black singlet, and his grey skinny jeans with his high top shoes made him look the part with the gun in his hand/

When he fired a bit and the gun flashed a few white blurs, I heard two bodies collapse to the floor. They weren't dead, but they groaned in pain. The boy with the black singlet went over to where they bodies were in pain, and I heard a kick. I think he moved their guns out of reach, but I was sure of it when I heard clink clink down the stairs.

The groaning suddenly stopped, and the boy stepped backwards into sight. I stayed still, but I didn't feel safe. He had lowered his gun, and he was getting his breath back from his run.

My bag that was behind me was sitting upright, but it toppled over and made the dust swirl around here under the desk. I couldnt help it, I began to cough. By the time I'd stopped, the boy had his gun pointing toward me, and I slowly sat up with one hand raised.

"Who are you?" he asked. I looked up at him confused, and he lowered his gun by his side again. A sympathic look crossed his face. He bent down and put his gun down, and stood back up again. "I'm not going to..." he began, but he stopped, seeing the bodies that laid half conscious at the door.

"I was defending myself." he bluntly explained. "They were trying to kill me..." It seemed as though he was trying to explain it to a child. I didn't understand why, but I didn't approve of it. I was beginning to feel safe, but I still wasn't sure. He sat down and crossed his legs. "How long've you been here?" he asked. I looked down, for no apparent reason.

I'd had my knife in my hand up till now, but I moved it out from under the desk and slid it over toward the window. It went clunk as it hit the window, but as he watched it, I saw him understand something. "Hungry?" he asked. I lied, and shook my head.

He slowly stood up again, he put his gun in his pocket and went over to get my knife. Once he'd picked it up, he walked over and put the knife down infront of me. Then he picked up my bag, threw it over his shoulder, and stepped over the bodies in the doorway.

Once I couldn't see him, I knew I had to follow him. He had my bag, my water bottle, and I was thirsty since the dust clogged up the air. I got up and hurried down the stairs to see him at the bottom.

I joined him down at the bottom of the stairs, and he was already holding my bag in one hand while opening it with the other. "You've only got a water bottle in here..?" he questioned, holding it up. I was either shy or intimidated. I wan't sure.

I gave a small chuckle. "Yeah... I...", gently taking the bottle from his hand, unscrewing the lid and finished off what was left. "I got nothin'." He nodded, and put the bag down against the wall. He began to walk toward the large roller door that he originally came in from. I tossed the empty bottle over with the bag, and followed him out like a lost dog.

As the first light of morning began to shine shortly after, he looked back at me to notice I was shaking. I was cold, I wasn't going to deny it. This jumper does nothing against the bitter chill that swept through these streets. He stopped walking, turned around and stretched his arms above his head. After his sleepy groan, he relaxed, looked me in the eye, and instructed me; "Wait here."

As he turned on his heel, I continued on to follow him, but he stopped walking and looked over his shoulder. I didn't see the expression on his face, I was looking at the floor, nervous to how he'd react. "How fast do you run, kid?" he asked.

I shrugged. I'd only really ever raced the teens at the orphanage. Although I could bet some in distance, most of them outran me with their incredible speed.

"Kid, just wait here, ok? I'll be back." and he walked away without another word. I wanted to ask why he wanted me stay, and why he was treating me like I was little. I'm 14 years old, and... now that I'm thinking of it, I don't need people telling me what to do.

"Hey, hold up." I called. "Why're you tellin' me what t-"

"I said, wait, here!" he growled.

Woah, alright. I had nothing more to say. I passively shrunk back and looked away quickly. He walked off and even if I wanted to, I couldn't say anymore to challenge him. Something within my body just turned off, and my chest compressed in on itself. My confidence suddenly dropped and my legs became slightly shaky. I walked myself over to the near wall, the back of some building, and leant back against it as I slid down to sit.

What just happened? I questioned myself. I couldn't understand the kind of power that his voice had on me, but I wasn't going to become passive to it. Whatever it was, I'm a new person. I left the stupid, weak me at the orphanage about two week ago. And now, nobody was going to boss me around. Nobody was going to tell me what to do. And nobody was going to manipulate me into doing anything I didn't want to.

He came back about an hour later, when the sun was beginning to show itself. He ran around the corner with something white, black, and red all held in one arm. I wasn't sure what it was, but it seemed like he was in a hurry. "C'mon!" he said, slowing down for me. "Now!"

He ran slower so I could keep up, which wasn't a struggle. This was easy. I wanted to see how fast both him and I could run. I didn't understand why he was running; maybe since he's in only a singlet, he was cold too..?

When a loud siren filled my ears and blue and red lights flashed against the walls of the street, I figured he may have been running from them. "You stole these?" I asked, looking up at him as we continued on running.

"Maybe..." He just smirked. I took that as a yes, and didn't take any care afterward.

The police car was pursuing us, and made little work of catching up to us. "This way!" he yelled as he turned into a narrow backstreet. The cop car could get in here. 'Way to go chief, now what?' I  rhetorically asked myself.

He turned us through a few streets, until we meet one with a chainlink fence at the end. He stood there looking at it for a moment, considering it, but when the sirens and lights got louder as they came around the corner, he ran. "Get over it kid!" he instructed.

I'm not a kid. I growled.

I studied it quickly, and noticed a car along the left wall, parked with it's front near the fence. I began to sprint towards the car, and I felt the boys' eye watching me. I jumped up onto the back of the car, onto the bonnet, jumped up to the rail with one foot, and flipped myself over. I landed and rolled, like I do with all my larger jumps, and turned back to see where he was.

He'd cleared the jump like I had, only he didn't flip or roll. He just hit the floor and continued to run. I followed him as we heard the policeman screech the patrol car to a halt, open the door and curse. He wasn't happy, but I managed to laugh about it.