An Offered Hand [AO | TBTP | Closed] May 31, 2017 10:33:53 GMT -5
Post by Mako Fujita on May 31, 2017 10:33:53 GMT -5
WARNING: Mention of suicide, depression, murder, sexual and physical abuse, as well as other adult themes.
Small feet splattered into puddles repeatedly, mud and water flying to either side as a small blur of brown and white, topped with a mess of black dashed through the main street of the town- he could hear the distance sound of screaming behind him signalled to his mind that he had to keep going, not having lost the man he'd stolen the loaf of bread and small bag of vegetables from. He was sure, if he asked, Moriko or Yuuta would give him food .. but he didn't want it, nor the questions that would arise from them. It would only lead to a confrontation with his father .. and he couldn't do that to them. He didn't know why, but he just couldn't- it wasn't like him, usually he couldn't care less about others. But .. the image of either of them crying, or being attacked by his father, pushed him well beyond what he was willing to allow- it made emotions he thought he'd long ago lost boil just beneath the surface of his blank expression. So, he didn't let it happened, he stole what he needed to in order to survive .. it wasn't like he had any other choice anyway, and he didn't really care about anyone else.
With this mindset it was surprisingly easy, guilt, he was sure- was a large portion of what pushed people back and refused to let them take from others. But he didn't have that issue, as the food in his hands, and blank expression showed with each step. Propelling himself forward with each step .. but he wasn't exactly the most physically fit individual, and he knew he couldn't hold the sprint forever. Instead, he let his eyes trail around him, examining everything as he went- people's facial expressions, clothing, eye color, anything and everything- it could be a potential enemy or a potential way to get out of his current situation. The mud slid under his footing- and he could feel himself starting to fall into a slide, he couldn't afford a fall- and so with that thought, his hand snatched out, and wordlessly grabbed the pant leg of a man that he had been about to sprint past. Using his leg for only a few brief moments, only a sparse enough time to let his eyes meet the much older looking mans for a single instance- before he was gone again, dashing at full speed, and ducking into an alleyway silently.
The more he ran the more he knew he was winning, and after a few more turns into the alleyways between buildings, he could tell- he wasn't really sure how. He just knew, the man who had been following him initially after he stole from him- was gone. It was like other people had a scent, one only he could smell- he knew when people were near. He knew what they were thinking, what they were feeling .. because he had to know. If he didn't know, if he didn't know exactly what was going to happen no matter what, then he would die. Fear. He was always afraid .. he couldn't help it, he knew all too well- life went wrong, it always did. There was no such thing as happiness or ease of existence .. anything like that was only temporary before life, fate, god, whatever you wished to call it- pulled the rug out from under you once more. Running his fingertips through his ragged, matted hair- he let his gaze slowly shift from his surroundings to the food he had finally managed to obtain.
For an adult, he was sure it wasn't that much, really, but for him, it was a hefty amount .. a meal or two, at the very least. Vegetables were hard to get too, it was nice really. Lowering a hand he would grasp the potato, and take a bite out of it as if it was some apple- when you're hungry, anything can taste good raw. As he quickly began to scarf down the food, ripping off chunks of bread and eating them with bites of potato, he would suddenly stiffen- he felt it again. Another one, this time the "scent" was familiar- and his mind raced to place it. It wasn't the man he'd stolen food from, but it was closing in on his position- should he hide? Act natural? What was the best approach to avoid attention and be ignored as just a street rat that managed to get a rare meal? His mind raced quickly as the presence, the "smell" approached that much faster. He had to focus or it was going to become even more difficult, finally, he recognized the "smell"- the man who's leg he had grabbed before. That meant he knew he'd stolen the food most likely.
Suddenly he was in a scramble, not enough time to run- and he was too tired too anyway, he needed to hide. Hide his body, hide his presence, smell, everything- he had to disappear so that the man wouldn't find him. He didn't want to be beaten again if he had too he'd give the food back .. but if he was lucky, the man would walk right past him. That was assuming he could get hidden into the crates he had been sitting on quick enough, anyway.
Tags: Murat Pasha
Post Words: 885
Total Words: 885
Total GP so Far: 17