This is my fist story so I hope you guys like it (edited)
Shadow Beast Judgment
Three figures stood before judge and jury. Each of their faces was unreadable. Each was there for their own reason. But the youngest person was the one on trial. It was a boy, no more the age of 12, his blond hair was brushed neatly to one side, his tiny brow was furrowed but it was hard to tell if he was confused or enraged. He probably wasn't sure why he was there. But he assumed his father, one of the other men, would save him from this trial. He assumed that no one would accuse him, the crown prince, of murder! Especially the murder of his own mother.
City Streets, Dirty Hands
I hadn't been paying much attention to what was going on around me. My mind was on my work. I had a week left to finish the design, the buyer was coming in later today to see how it was coming along. I was almost done and I could use more milk. Not focused on my surroundings I bumped into someone walking down the street. Right away a thick had snagged my arm and yanked me from my thoughts.
"Hey!" I shouted in surprise.
Turning to the person, it was a wealthy man from the smooth shine of his navy-blue suit. The buttons of his white shirt were hanging on for dear life with how far his stomach is protruded. His double chin flopped over the top of his collar. He snorted a little as a greasy smile spread over his pig like face. "Thought you could steal from me did you! Well that won't work!" he snapped. I fought the urge to laugh at him. I attempted to yank my arm away, but even with his size he had a pretty good grip. "I'll get you taken care of right away." He was waving his arm up, trying to flag a policeman standing on the corner. People were staring.
I gave him another once over, taking special note of how he expressed wealth. The gold watch was worth a thousand, his suit was tailor made (perhaps at a time he could still see his toes). The police man started walking towards us. I readjusted myself, and cried. The business man looked at me stunned. But louder I cried, huge tears staining my cheeks. Suddenly the officer was dashing towards us. Suddenly my arm was released, but the attention was already on us. "What's going on here?" The officer called, his hand resting on the radio attached to his shoulder.
"This person tried to steal from me!" He blubbered. Suddenly he wasn't sure of my guilt. The officer looked between us, and quietly kneeled beside me. He rubbed my shoulder softly.
"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked.
I took a few breaths. Crying on instant was a talent I had learned a long time ago. It is a lot easier to be a victim than argue with these elites. They will use their money and power to manipulate you, so the best defense is to humiliate them in public. "I... I was just walking home. I wasn't paying attention, and just bumped in to him. I didn't take anything." I sobbed again.
The officer stood up, and propped both hands on his hips. He looked at the fat man with disappointment. "Unless anything is missing, there is no need for a fuss." Quickly the man patted his pockets, nothing of course was missing. "If that's all then why don't we all move along." He emphasized. The elite huffed and marched away, flipping his fake hair back. The officer gently pulled me to my feet. "It's alright, why don't you just head on home now." I nodded and wiped my cheeks.
"Thank you." He beamed at me.
I went on my way. About halfway home I was back to daydreaming and writing a mental grocery list. I turned a few blocks and walked up to the doors of a metal shop. I pulled my keys out and unlocked the gate and slipped inside. It wasn't an open metal shop, in fact it only used to be a metal shop, but I bought it out and now its my home/art gallery. I make metal art, bending and shaping it. In the very center of the room stood a shimmering silver tree. It had brass and tarnished leaves, and a single golden apple. It was for a fashion magazine it would be part of the next photoshoot, and then presented as a piece for their building. It was a huge break for me and my art. The piece itself is worth a fortune. It's cost me six thousand dollars to put together with just material.
I was only given a base idea for the product, but the majority of the design is my own. The buyer was stopping by later today to see the product for the first time.
It wasn't long until my back door was being beat repeatedly, which meant I had unexpected visitors. Perhaps uninvited was a more accurate term. I knew who it was from the sound of the knocking. They visited every few days. "It's Open!" I shouted. I had spent the last few hours going through the different types of metals, and their size. It was part of my prepping process, to get every piece I need organized. Although the tree was almost done, but I had other projects and requests that had to be worked on.
In walked three grubby kids 8, 10, and 13, and their current caretaker. As he lovingly liked to call himself J-boss. Yes, it sounds dumb, however it matched his dumb personality. He wore a flat-brimmed hat with the sticker still on the inside. He was overly skinny, but wore his pants around thighs, and a sweater down to his knees. He walked in, an awkward sway in his hips. He had an obsession of rubbing his nose with his thumb. I hate to admit but I used to have a thing for him. Not sure what I saw in him at the time. He is more like a goofy older brother then the hard ass he thinks he is, and definitely not a romantic partner.
I stopped him from saying anything as he walked in. He still seemed to think there was a thing between us, and telling him repeatedly hasn't really worked in deterring him. But not to say I hate the guy. Like I said he's more of a goofy older brother. He helped me out when I was alone and on the street. I had no where to go, and no one to turn to. In this modern world you would think there would be a place for kids on the street. But there wasn't, at least not in this town.
It was a little archaic I find actually. J-boss, or James as he hates to be referred to as, runs a pick pocket ring of kids living on the street. Sounds like something from the old world. Like rounding up kids to pickpocket to make money? But that was how our world worked. There was a huge divide between the wealthy and the poor, and an almost non-existent middle class. Everything was about showing off how much money you have, and if you didn't they would accuse you of being poor. Kind of like what happened to me earlier.
As much as I couldn't tolerate James' behaviour, I appreciate him, and I love the kid he brings by. Out of all the kids that went through the same system I'm the one who 'made' it. I have a secret though, a reason why, and it wasn't something I could tell anyone. Not that I didn't trust James and the kids, but anybody could be listening at any time. I had read enough to know the government would come and take me away.
"Max! Max!" the kids shouted surrounding me eagerly.
"Hey guys, what are you up too?" I asked lovingly. They chatted away, I pulled them towards the living area of my shop and sat them around the table. I pulled them out snacks, which they inhaled quickly. We visited for a while before the kids headed out. James waving timidly from behind them. I loved the kids, and I'm glad that James was still there to take care of them.
Not much long after they left my appointment showed up. She stared at it wide eyed before snapping to her formal wealth façade. She agreed it was to her 'standard', but I could see the light in her eyes. She loved it. I let her know that it would be ready on time. After that I got to spend the evening to myself working on my projects.
YOU ARE READING
To the MaxTeen Fiction
Max figured her life was pretty good for a kid off the street, till the day a goth looking guy shows up at her door and takes her away. He's seen her magic, used his, and is constintly called a rapist (you can guess by who) Max doesn't know this str...