Post by John Tate on Aug 10, 2009 18:50:48 GMT
John had spent the weekend with his grandparents, or the closest thing he had to grandparents anyway. It felt weird saying foster grandparents, so he wouldn't. Besides, leaving that part of the equation blank made him feel like he was still part of something, part of a family. They had been really cool to him, just like grandparents. They had kept him from becoming a ward of the state or kicked out of school. Thankfully his mom's taste had been relatively tame, so he hadn't been faced with a room full of purple or pink.
He'd only had to move a treadmill to another room down the hall for Mister Strode. The two men had pulled an old king sized mattress out of storage that ended up being surprisingly comfortable. He was tall so he was glad that they hadn't tried to stick him in a too small twin sized bed. It was bad enough to have to deal with a too short bed during the week at school. On the weekends it was cool to just stretch out and chill. He had needed a break anyway. Theo and Jack seemed to be getting on each others nerves again. He'd been surprised to hear what Jack had done with the knife. He hadn't said anything to either of them. Guess the situation just hit too close to home for him to be able to not let it get to him.
His motorcycle was apparently too loud for campus or some such so he was being forced to leave it behind for the week until he could get a new tail pipe. It pissed him off. That bike was his freedom. Even so he wasn't willing to muddy the waters, he was already having to deal with too much crap because someone had discovered who he was, whose family he came from. Some asshole had even put one of those damn masks on his dorm room door. Tacked there with a yellow thumb tack. Didn't they know to be effective they should have used a kitchen knife? Losers he thought as he turned the corner taking him from Elm Street to a street people usually avoided if they could.
It was the street where Michael lived. Uncle Mike. A place his mother's brother, dead parents and sister Judith once called home. An important location for a sort of secret society he had become a part of called Lockdown.
He made it a point of walking by it purposefully whenever he had the chance. Some might say he was testing fate or challenging the devil himself, but he didn't care. He didn't buy into the hype. As he approached he thought he saw the shadow of man move in one of the upper windows where one of the boards had fallen away to reveal what remained of the broken glass and wood framed windows. He stopped lit a cigarette and inhaled. John eyed the shadowed shape directly before taking a breath and moving on.
His stomach churned just enough to be annoying. It was probably what he'd had for lunch, making him feel sick. Leftover sashimi and some cold french fries. He didn't have time to waste, there was nothing there. It was only the past. And the past couldn't hurt you unless you let it. He already missed his dog. Last night's run had been great, the puppy was really growing up. They'd gone three miles. It had been fun. He needed to get back to campus. He probably had homework to do before classes resumed in the morning. Maybe someone would come along and offer him a ride. Or he'd at least run into someone he could walk with.
He'd only had to move a treadmill to another room down the hall for Mister Strode. The two men had pulled an old king sized mattress out of storage that ended up being surprisingly comfortable. He was tall so he was glad that they hadn't tried to stick him in a too small twin sized bed. It was bad enough to have to deal with a too short bed during the week at school. On the weekends it was cool to just stretch out and chill. He had needed a break anyway. Theo and Jack seemed to be getting on each others nerves again. He'd been surprised to hear what Jack had done with the knife. He hadn't said anything to either of them. Guess the situation just hit too close to home for him to be able to not let it get to him.
His motorcycle was apparently too loud for campus or some such so he was being forced to leave it behind for the week until he could get a new tail pipe. It pissed him off. That bike was his freedom. Even so he wasn't willing to muddy the waters, he was already having to deal with too much crap because someone had discovered who he was, whose family he came from. Some asshole had even put one of those damn masks on his dorm room door. Tacked there with a yellow thumb tack. Didn't they know to be effective they should have used a kitchen knife? Losers he thought as he turned the corner taking him from Elm Street to a street people usually avoided if they could.
It was the street where Michael lived. Uncle Mike. A place his mother's brother, dead parents and sister Judith once called home. An important location for a sort of secret society he had become a part of called Lockdown.
He made it a point of walking by it purposefully whenever he had the chance. Some might say he was testing fate or challenging the devil himself, but he didn't care. He didn't buy into the hype. As he approached he thought he saw the shadow of man move in one of the upper windows where one of the boards had fallen away to reveal what remained of the broken glass and wood framed windows. He stopped lit a cigarette and inhaled. John eyed the shadowed shape directly before taking a breath and moving on.
His stomach churned just enough to be annoying. It was probably what he'd had for lunch, making him feel sick. Leftover sashimi and some cold french fries. He didn't have time to waste, there was nothing there. It was only the past. And the past couldn't hurt you unless you let it. He already missed his dog. Last night's run had been great, the puppy was really growing up. They'd gone three miles. It had been fun. He needed to get back to campus. He probably had homework to do before classes resumed in the morning. Maybe someone would come along and offer him a ride. Or he'd at least run into someone he could walk with.
