Wilder POV
I sit in the backseat, looking out the window with a small smile on my face for a change. The two ladies in the front most likely think I'm crazy, which I am.
Jared and my conversation didn't start on the right foot yesterday, he got a black eye and I a punch on the face and stomach, but it calmed down and went on for about an hour. We made peace. As long as I don't bother Dan and him and I'm getting the right punishment, it will last.
Today, just a moment ago, I talked and apologised to Dan, who was outside the hospital for a walk. I mean, for a whatever, fresh air. He's on a wheelchair, temporarily I hope genuinely, and his little brother Aldo accompanied him.
Aldo's attitude annoyed me immensely, but again I can't blame him. I got to say my piece and managed to do it calmly, mainly because the sedatives the nurse gave me about an hour ago are still effective. My temper got a little out of hand again when the social workers or whatever came to pick me up, but luckily I still got discharged from the hospital.
Dan actually gave me a ray of hope about forgiving me some day. I don't know why I feel the need for it. I just care for Jared's, but then again if Dan forgives, maybe it can help with him. Dan said he gets home in a few days or so, too.
Whatever, I feel slightly lighter now. These women are taking me home for today and tomorrow my job continues. The job varies, often daily, and they find me always things to do from paperwork to physical labour outdoors. Both and all hell, if you ask me. It's not meant to be fun, I know, but makes me miss school what I thought I'd never.
The authorities drop me off at my home address, luckily not stopping to check everything is okay. They know my living and family situation isn't ideal, but not the whole reality. I've passed my eighteenth birthday in January so it's just my own problem.
I go inside the house, and breathe out as nobody is home at the moment. Need to be quick, though, I have no idea where the others are and when they come back.
The door to my room creaks, this building is completely fucked up. It's just a roof on top of our heads, walls around, lights and water work when the bills are paid which is now not the case when I try put the lamp in my room on, and necessary heating during winter. Food, not so much. Both empty and full alcohol bottles and hidden drugs all around, plenty to share and make the rooms reek.
I can't stand this, and I'm not a pussy but I try to avoid my parents as much as possible.
That is why I do now what I have done a lot lately. I empty my duffel bag from the used clothes and replace with clean ones from my drawers. Everything else I own is already in the bag, so after getting a new set of clothes, I get out of this hellhole.
As I walk, I check my phone and it has 36% left. Luckily, I get to charge it tomorrow at work. They let me do that every day when I need to, so that I can be contacted.
I put the hood of my hoodie under my open jacket over my head and walk, for about fifteen to twenty minutes, until I reach my destination.
My place, which I would call more my home than my actual, proper home. It can get lonely and cold at times, but it's really only for nights that I need a roof over my head. Nobody knows about me being here. I don't exactly have the money to live fancily.
I enter the small, abandoned older shed with no proper door and make myself comfortable on the mattress I've got in here. Quite comfortable, it's better than no mattress. I place my bag in the middle of the wall and mattress.
It's early, not even 5 PM, but there's nothing more for me to do today. Just need to waste these hours left. I take a joint from my bag, smoking calms me down and makes me think less.
It hurts to think, to be honest. I need something to calm me down to be able to sleep. I know if I drank and smoked less I'd have more money but frankly, I don't care. I've lived like this since it got enough warm to get by in here, which is about a month or less than two.
I lean against the wall sitting on the mattress, and see a tiny kitten step in through the door.
"Hey, Serah" I greet her with a small smile, patting the spot next to me to tell her she can come closer. She does, curling up to rest next to me with a meow. "It's been a while, eh? Yup. I came back after all."
Here's not so lonely when she keeps me company when our paths cross more often than not. She doesn't think I'm crazy, she's not scared of me and she doesn't judge me. We're simple.
From the moment we met, she's taken some odd liking to me. A little kitten, who I bring some food whenever I can even if she's taking very good care of herself. I don't treat any other girl this is well or let them this close, I admit.
Now, don't get me wrong. I don't like animals that much, I'm definitely not a cat person. Maybe dogs, I'd prefer them at least. But I've grown a soft spot for Serah. I gave her that name, and she likes it. At least pretends to, I'm not sure.
I pet her and chuckle when she moves to lay on my lap and purrs, as if sensing I need her comfort. I mean, I don't need it, but it's nice. Okay. Some time later bored as fuck, unintentionally I fall asleep, Serah still with me.
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