Buried Deep ✔️

Chapter Nine [The Truth]

By the time I made it into the south side trap house, my adrenaline rush was fading. I gasped for air. My eyes roamed around the room. I was shocked to find it empty. The silence was eerie.

I stepped across the room and sat down on the couch, placing my head in my hands. I took a couple of deep breaths as I tried to ease my racing heart. Fear rushed through me in the alley. It was an emotion I had been forced to bury deep inside myself and, for some reason, it escaped to the surface.

The last time that soul-jarring emotion bubbled through was the day my mother left me alone with my father. I hadn't known what the future held for me. As the years passed, the fear that life would never get better had crept into my mind, but when I was sixteen it all changed.

The streets were covered in a light snow that night. After battling with thoughts of suicide, I had managed to stumble down my fire escape into the alley. I walked into the darkness alone, searching for anything to give me a sign. A simple sign that there was a better life for me. That was all I was searching for that night when Cayden came across me. He took me in and showed me the brotherhood. The Southside who became my family. They made me feel like I belonged. They gave me what I thought was a better life. I ran my hands through my hair. My eyes scanned the vacant apartment.

The room was dark. Thick black curtains blocked out the light. The only exception was the couple of light bulbs that worked in one fixture in the kitchen. The wall in the far back corner heading to Cayden's room had a single bulletin board on it, which I had never noticed before this moment.

I pushed off the couch and made my way over too it, instantly curious as to what was on it. My fingers ran over a couple of pictures held firmly by colored pins. The pictures were old, their edges ruffled and partially turned to ash as if someone had tried to burn them.

I stopped and let my hand linger on one specific photo of James, with his arms around two younger kids. The kids were similar in age; one was dark skinned, while the other child was white. I figured the white child was Cayden, but I couldn't decipher who the other kid might be.

That was when I noticed that each picture tacked to the board had James, Cayden, and this mysterious boy. The pictures captured the boys as they aged through the years.

I knew I shouldn't snoop around James' room, but I couldn't help the curiosity that filled me while I was here, alone in the apartment. James' door creaked as it swung to hit the wall. It was dark, so I pulled out my phone light, swiping it on. I hesitated.

I shouldn't do it.

My feet didn't listen as they carried me forward. I made my way across the room until I reached an old desk, turning on the lamp that sat on top of it. I flicked my phone off as the dim light cast shadows around the room.

Everything was still intact. Nothing had been moved, and no dust had been disturbed. It was like the room was preserved in time.

The only furniture in the room was a king-sized bed, a desk, and a small box T.V. that was from the 80's or 90's, at least. I looked through the desk, pulling out different drawers and analyzing more pictures I found. Each picture was of James and the same two kids.

Apparently, they'd spent a lot of time together over the years. There were photos of them playing basketball together, swimming in a lake, and climbing up trees. One of the pictures was of them posing in front of the school on what appeared to be their last first day. Just from looking at the pictures, James must have been very attached to Cayden and this other mysterious boy.

There was some unspoken bond that had lasted for a while. That must have been why Cayden had been so distraught the day James died. It also would explain the bond Cayden has with me. It is what he was taught by James.