Heartbeat (Danny Rand)

Two

         My feet slap the pavement as I grip my bag tighter. Broken beer bottles and stomped out cigarette butts, some still smoking, line the streets. Empty shopping bags roll down the sidewalks like tumbleweeds, and I mentally pray that the nearby alleys are as empty as old western towns.

          When she isn't adding to the litter, my Mom's working a ten-hour shift as a waitress at a local rundown diner. The pathetic excuse for a minimum wage she brings home can't buy a house anywhere other than the worst part of town though, so that's where we live.

          Before my Dad left we lived in a big penthouse that overlooked all the little people who lived down here. In fact, I didn't even know neighborhoods as poor and haphazard as this one even existed. Now, though, I can understand why everyone around here seems to despise the people who live in big fancy penthouses. They have so much money to spend that it doesn't even occur to them to pay child support after they take off in the middle of the night, and only contact their wife and four-year-old daughter to file for a divorce.

          My lungs burn as I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding. So many bad things happen in this part of town that even just walking home is terrifying.

          Between the dead bushes, peeling paint, and rickety front steps, our house looks like it's given up. I guess Mom and me kind of have too, considering we never put any real effort into maintaining it. What the point, though? It wasn't worth anything when we bought it, so there's no way it'll be worth anything when we sell it. If we sell it.

          I jam my key into the lock and shove the door open. I click the lock back into place and kick off my shoes, walking into the kitchen. My stomach growls, but before I can see if we have any food an envelope with a red stamp on the front catches my eye.

          I quickly scan over the letter and realize with a sinking feeling that it's a last warning to pay our bills before we're evicted from our house. Mom must've been hiding them from me so I wouldn't worry...

          How is it even remotely possible for us to be evicted from one of the cheapest houses in New York. And what are we going to do? If we can't afford to live here then how are we possibly going live anywhere?

          My jaw tightens and I snatch the bills off the counter, storming to my room. I take out my laptop and put it on my desk, turning it on.

          This is all his fault. If he didn't leave, if he paid child care... If he didn't even come into our lives in the first place then none of this would happen. I wouldn't be born, but at least Mom would still be happy.

          I slam the bills down on my desk next to my laptop and quickly flip through them, totaling the amount we owe. It seems a bit higher than usual, but I can't exactly do anything about that.

          My fingers hover over the keys, and for a second I second guess my decision. Is this really a good idea? If I get caught I'll get in a lot of trouble...

         Shoving those thoughts away, my fingers fly across the keyboard. Even though it's nothing new to me, I still get a rush of excitement every time I hack something.

            First I go online and find the option to simply pay off any bills you have through the money in your bank account. That's something anyone can do. Then I override a couple of security blocks and firewalls and suddenly my dad's bank account is short of a little over a thousand dollars while mine just came into some good fortune. With a triumphant smirk on my face, I pay off the bills exactly, emptying my bank account once again.

         I've always had a particular gift for anything technological, although I have to admit I don't always use it for the most... positive things. Although, all I just did was what my Dad should've done in the first place - supported us.

          "Actually, that reminds me," I mumble to myself as I log into the school website, do a couple fancy things, and wipe my tardy record clean. The last thing I need is to get a detention senior year to mess up my perfect record. Getting a full scholarship to a school is the only way I can possibly go to college, and I'll do whatever it takes to get one.

          On top of that, it's not like my dad will miss the money I took. He has so much that he won't even notice it's gone. So, really, I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm just doing what it takes to survive. Honestly, wouldn't you do the same?