To anyone who's still reading this, I am soooo so sorry about how long it's taken me to update this. I just got out of school on wednesday (praise Jesus, I'm done with high school), and then I've literally been working everyday since then so it's been really hectic and I apologize. But here's a chapter that I actually wrote a while ago and it's just been sitting on my computer waiting for me to post it (oh and I got a new laptop so I've been transferring all of my stories)... anyways, here it is, ENJOY! :)
Mitch POV
Scott walked back inside and I turned my attention back toward the parking lot. I just stared at it blankly as a million thoughts raced through my mind. How could he say that I'm letting Trevor 'win'? Am I?
I can't help but be upset by Trevor's words, that isn't my fault is it? Is there a version of myself where I can just listen to him and not be affected? Because I want to be that. I hated that whenever I got upset, it upset Scott too, but again, I can't help that either. I wanted him to leave me alone because I don't want him to see me like this anymore. I want to be as strong as he is, but it'll never happen. I'm pathetic.
"Excuse me?" A child asked, breaking me out of my trance.
I immediately glanced toward the voice, a little boy's face appearing. I recognized him as living a few apartments down from us.
"Are you okay, mister?" He asked quietly.
I nodded, smiling. "I'm fine," I laughed. "Thank you for asking."
The boy just smiled and then continued on his way to the stairs. I'd almost returned to my trance-like thinking state when I heard sounds of a struggle echoing through the stairwell, followed by a small cry for help. Without thinking I moved quickly in the direction that the little boy had just gone.
I was met by a horrifying scene: a man trying to grab the child, his hand smashed over the boy's mouth. The man noticed me and immediately attempted to run, the child still captured in his arms.
"Let go of him!" I screamed, running toward him.
Even in my injured state, it didn't take long to catch up to them since the kid was putting up a hell of a fight. Unthinkingly, I reached up and my fist connected with the man's jaw, sending an ache all the way to my shoulder. My hand fell, and I shook it out, attempting to dissipate the pain.
The man seemed shocked by my actions at first, but then dropped the boy and began to run down the stairs. For half a second, I almost followed him, but then I remembered the whimpering child at my feet. I reached down and, ignoring the horrific ache in my body, picked him up in my arms.
"It's okay," I whispered comfortingly as I carried him back up the stairs.
He was wailing at this point, but I didn't blame him. I would've been too. I wasn't sure where he lived, and I knew I couldn't carry him around like this forever, so I stopped at my door. I knocked on it without putting the boy down. He was clinging to my shirt now, his tears soaking it.
