The First Night

Henry

The smell of cigarettes and liquor bounced off the worn-out walls of our apartment. I remember the cold night breeze seeping through our skins. Cruel and Unforgiving.

My brother was shivering - not from the cold, but from fear.

I clasped one of my hands against his eyes, the other on top of his mouth. He shouldn't see this. Yet beneath my trembling palms, I could feel his eyes flapping open, as if he was trying to see between the gaps of my fingers.

I peered through the bottom kitchen closet, where my brother and I hid just minutes before they came. They demanded for our father days before. Wanting something. Money. Perhaps stemming from our father's gambling debts. But this time, it's us who they were hunting down. It was inevitable for it to become like this. Still, there was some inkling within me which hoped for our father to return. To be accountable for his actions. And now...

Our father sold us.

"WHERE ARE THEY?" One of the hoodlums demanded - the leader. They were four in total, all clad in deep blue coats with jasmine crests sewn on its top right side. Three of them were muscled and equipped with guns hoisted on their belts. The last one - the leader, stood in the middle of our apartment, lighting another cigarette as he bossed around the others. On the back of his palm was the same jasmine crest tattoo-ed to his skin.

The mark of the Noine group.

The three of the goons continued to thrash the place. Our brown couch, covered in our mother's embroidered covers were now in tatters as each of the pillows were slashed. The picture frames which were aligned across our television stand, now reduced to shattered glass which engulfed our floor. Years of memories, gone.

The crunching sound of footsteps on glass approached. My brother's breathing increased. I couldn't contain my fear as the footsteps increased. Panic rose and all I could hear was my heart beating again and again.

More steps neared. Rough and swift movements resounded above us as the men rummaged through our cupboards. One by one various things dropped. Plates, mugs and jars. Next was the refrigerator. One of the men laughed and I heard my father's beer can being opened. Another set of crunching footsteps loomed.

A laugh and the clang of metal hinges were the last things we heard as the bottom closet doors opened. Wicked eyes met mine.

"Found them." The rasped voice alerted his subordinates. I hurriedly pushed my brother behind me. Take me. Take me instead. Spare my brother.

The leader now crouched to the floor, faced us - faced me. His lips curved and his deep cobalt eyes locked onto us, like a hawk marking its prey. The doors opened further, held by one of the mobsters. My brother's loud cries now filled my ears as he watched in terror.

And in a heartbeat, all I could feel was searing pain as they grabbed me by the hair and pressed me to the ground, a gun pointed to my head.

Blackout.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

My eyes opened to two individuals bickering over something just outside the car. My eyes were fuzzy from exhaustion. I've been working non-stop in various odd jobs across the city. And now, we've lost our tent, our belongings and our home. We have nowhere to go.

The two individuals kept arguing, both nudging the other in annoyance. The other person in particular was familiar - the lady who offered us her place to stay. She was arguing with another man, almost as tall as her which was above average considering the lady was surprisingly tall. Maybe around 5'7 or 5'8?

The lights of the cafe illuminated their surroundings, allowing for a greater view of the two. The lady wore a coordinated corporate attire - more like a power suit, and kept her short dark hair clipped to each side. Her expression was mixed in exhaustion and panic as she kept pushing the other guy towards the car. Towards our door.

My reflexes sprung into action, grabbing Timothy and sheltering him behind me. I'd have to leave some of our bags here and make a run for it. The other backseat door was open. The two individuals stopped and looked to us.

The lady awkwardly smiled, "W-We're here! So, uh, Welcome! I didn't want to wake you and your brother. The traffic was hell and you guys were tired." Her voice was mumbled since she spoke outside the car.

The other man rolled his eyes, "They can't hear you, they're inside the car."

The lady approached the door and noticed my grip on Timothy. She raised her arms and backed away slightly. She sighed and pointed to the car door. Her fingers pointed downwards, telling me to open the car window. And I did, slightly.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you guys. I'm just offering you a place to rest. I know you don't trust me, I mean I'm a random stranger offering two individuals - one minor at that - her place for shelter." She chuckled in between. "Sketchy as hell I know. But it's the middle of the night, you guys have tons of bags with you and no place to stay. Now, you can stay in the car for as long as you want, but my place has ventilation and FOOD." She pointed to the cafe doors. "There's also a working telephone inside, so you can call for the government, police or welfare assistance or even your parents." She backed another step and looked to me. "Might as well run away with a full stomach right?"

Beside me, Timothy's body was starting to wake up. His face was already marked with mosquito bites and his body was starting to slim down even further. How many days has it been since we had a decent meal. Rice, protein and veggies are critical to a child's growth. Our mother taught us that. Never mind me, but Timothy at least should eat. Cup noodles can never substitute real food. And I hated that.

"My name is Charlie. Charlie Lamallac. Phone number is uhm... 67800155328. Address is #3 Bowater Street, East Green Village, Eton City." She turned to the other guy beside her and tapped his shoulder. "This kid right here is Bank. He'll be assisting you with your stuff." He rolled his eyes once more and groaned in annoyance. Charlie waved her hands as farewell and began to enter the cafe, its door chimes ringing through the silence.

Bank only looked to me, annoyed. I would too, considering its the middle of the night and I was forced to assist two random strangers. Then a forceful grip pulled me down -

"Are we not going inside yet?" Timothy asked as he pulled the collar of my shirt to him. He started to press all the car buttons until the windows started to descend all the way down. "Where's Miss Charlie?" He stretched his neck to look at the front seat.

Bank tilted his head towards the direction of the cafe. "Well? You guys ready?" He had similar features with Charlie, height, hair and complexion - albeit Bank's strikingly blue eyes. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot repeatedly against the rough pavement.

I looked to Timothy, his eyes gushing with excitement, lips smiling from end to end. He was excited to have a place to stay, a roof over his head as opposed to a worn-out tent.

He missed home.

Whats really infuriating for me is that I miss one as well. I miss our old home.

The car door clicked as I pushed it open. Timothy went ahead and ran outside, towards Bank and looked back to me. "Come on Henry!" The lights of the cafe illuminated, serving as a spotlight for the both of them, as if they've reached the end of the tunnel.

Timothy waved his hands around, directing me to follow. Bank stood behind him, still visibly displeased. I pushed the door wider to make way for myself and our bags, got out and followed both Bank and my brother as we made our way inside the cafe.