I stomped through the sand, slightly slipping as my legs pounded against the earth. The only thing present in my mind was the need to get to the water. As I approached the beach my legs started to falter. My body seemed to collapse in on itself, my mind still awake and pleading to run. I feel to the ground and tried to let out a scream of anguish, but was met with meaningless silence. The sound behind me grew louder as I lie on the hot sand. A low growl filled my ears. I had to push forward. I crawled towards the sea, desperately clinging on to every bit of strength I had. The growling searched for me, and the closer I got to the water, the louder it grew. After struggling for so long I had finally reached the water. I put my hand in it, as it soothed the burning from the sand. A hand grabbed my head. No, a paw. It's claws dug into my skull, cracking every part of my mind. It threw my head under the water, filling my mouth with sand and eyes with salt. I struggled and squirmed, but my lungs again started to fill with the water I once craved.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked the focused boy in front of me. His dark curls covered his face as he looked down at the instrument in his hands.

"Mrs. Bell gave it to me." He replied, plucking at the strings in a mesmerizing pattern. I scooted closer to him to watch his movements and he fixated on the guitar.

"How'd she find one with the hoodie design?" Chip waited a little bit to answer. When he was set on something that interested him he would shut off any external forces. His dark eyes met mine after a minute. I repeated my question.

"She got it custom made, that's crazy, right?" He smiled as I nodded in agreement. I continued to stare at Chip, wonder in his eyes. He was a fidgety person but as soon as something interested him... he was gone. I put my head down on his pillow as he started to play a soft melody. It was an unfamiliar tune, but soothed my ears as he became more invested. His hands carefully picked each string, taking me on a harmonic ride. Colors filled his room, representing each note that rang out. Soft blues and deep purples floated through the air, swirling around the instrument in his hands. I stared in amazement at the strokes of color dancing around the room, while listening to the glorious music coming from beside me. It was nothing like I had ever seen. It was beautiful. 

Wait...

I continued to look at the blue above me as I processed my thoughts. 

Those can't be real. 

I unenthusiastically looked at the child in front of me. For the most part I was lucky, since she didn't make too much noise and didn't talk a lot to me. However, trying to keep her from dropping things or making a mess was a different story. Brianna was old enough to not have a constant eye on her, but with little entertainment in the house she would come to one of us for attention. Today's fixation was the TV, where she sat directly in front, glued to the screen. She had the remote and by mistake flipped it to another channel, which happened to be the news. 

"Attention Orilon, this is breaking news. Yet another murder is being investigated. The victim, Arnie Hamrold was found disturbingly mutilated, hanging on the awning of the local diner. There was no weapon found, and police believe the murderer must have dragged the body to where it is now. The diner is perfectly safe, at least during the day. For safety precautions, the diner will be closed after 8 PM, in order to assure no guests are present if this should happen again. Police advise to keep an eye out for suspicious activity, and to stay in your homes after curfew hours." Chip and Adriana had wandered into the room to listen to the report. 

"That means Mommy won't have to stay as late, right?" Bri said hopefully. 

"Yes.. but it also means Mommy isn't going to work overtime for extra money." Adriana said, worried. She turned to Chip. "She was really relying on that, how is she going to manage?" The tan boy shrugged and anxiously looked at me. 

He better not start lecturing me. He sat down next to me, his dark eyes pleading that I knew what he was going to say so that he didn't have to out loud. After I didn't say anything, he sighed. 

"Rowen, I really think you should stay the night here. At least until they get this guy, we don't know--" Of course. My mind cut off Chip and began to trail in a different direction. I started to focus more on my environment. The Davis house was small. Swinging open the beat-up door would welcome you to an immediate living room to your right, and a small table to your left. The kitchen was just onwards of this table, small but lived in. Continuing forward would bring you to the single, tiny bathroom. On the right side of the house, a few steps away from the living room, was the warmth of Chip's small bedroom. It wasn't really a bedroom, though. It was originally a laundry room/closet, but Ms. Davis repurposed it and moved the washing machine and dryer to the backyard. Going into the small living room, a single couch was place on the same wall as the front door. A small coffee table piled with papers and mysterious spills was directly in center, in front of it a miniscule box TV. On the wall the TV was backed up against, to the left of the small box greeted you with a door. This was Adriana's room, the only real room in the house. Turning back to the small dining table, there was a staircase that led to Ms. Davis and Bri's room. It was originally intended as an attic, but with some rugs and a mattress, it was turned into a makeshift bedroom. Chip had many times begged for this room but his mom insisted he was going to have a growth spurt and would get annoyed with hitting his head all the time. The house was a warm orange color, it smelled of vanilla and syrup. Everything inside screamed 'poor, but happy'. It was special, in here, every problem seemed to dissolve with some food or a smile. It was everything I dreamed for as a kid. 

I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back into the conversation. I looked at Chip's pitiful eyes.

"Please stay." He whimpered. 

"I can't.. I'm sorry, Chip, I can't." He slid his hand off and closed his eyes. Once he opened them I was unexpectedly met with a cold gaze. He briskly got up and retreated to his room. 

"What'd you do to him?" Adriana asked, concerned. 

"I said I couldn't stay the night." She threw the pencil in her hand down and went up to me. 

"Rowen, he has been begging you for years. Are you really going to keep breaking his heart like this? Stop playing around with him!" I, too stood up, towering over the girl. 

"What kind of game do you think I'm playing? The world isn't a game, I'm keeping him-and you- safe." She scoffed.

"Maybe tell us who's after you, or something! Rowen, you stay here every day and we barely know anything about you! Not even Chip does. How could you do that, to your only friend?!" I pushed past her and went to the door. 

"You don't deserve to know. Chip.." I hesitated. "Chip can't know, okay? He'll make himself sick with worry." I grabbed the knob. 

"No!" She pulled me back by the bottom of my shirt. "He's already worried, can't you see? You don't even ask him how he's doing. What is wrong with you? You're so lucky that he even puts up with all your crap, I know I wouldn't!" I wasn't going to be guilt-tripped by her, and I looked for a way out. 

"It's for his own good, Adriana. Trust me." 

"How could I trust you? For all I know, you could be the person trying to frame my mom!" She hissed, I quickly turned the knob and tried to exit the house. She again, grabbed me and pulled me inside. "Go ahead! Punch me, throw me against something! I know you can! Maybe then he'll finally see how awful you actually are!" She wailed. I didn't do anything but stare. 

"Stop!" I heard the familiar voice chime. We looked over to see Chip, his hair disheveled and eyes puffy and red. "Just.. stop fighting." He said softer. "Rowen, can I talk to you?" I walked over as he enclosed me and himself into his room. The soft lamp with a pinkish hue illuminated barely anything. I sat on the bed and was met with Chip's eyes locking with mine. "Rowen.. do you not want me to meet your other friends? Are... am I not cool enough for them or something?" His words were filled with anxiety and betrayal. I looked at him dumbfounded. 

"What? Chip.. I don't have any other friends.. And if I did, no- you're not embarrassing." I put my hand on his head of curls. He softly sniffed and to my dismay I noticed a tear drip down. Chip barely cried, and when he did it hurt. More than anything in the world, it hurt. That smile that brought so much light would suddenly vanish, kidnapped and replaced with a crinkled nose and tears. I hated it.. so much. "Wh.. Why do you think that?" 

"I met this guy in town today.. He was looking for you, said you were avoiding him. I-I just thought since you don't want them to know about me-" I cut him off and brought him closer to me. Hugging wasn't my thing, but it made him feel better; that was enough for me. 

"No, Potato Chip.. That's not at all why I don't want them to know you. I don't want them to know where you live because.." I decided I was done hiding the truth from him, no matter how much it hurt to tell. "Listen, I'm spying on Poison for the Beasts. The people from both of those gangs- they're tough. They're scary.. I can't have them know where you are, and where your family is. Hell, they might be the one's terrorizing your mom for all I know. I don't want you to get involved.. and tonight they're giving me another mission and I can't stay.. as much as I want to, I can't." The truth pooled out of my mouth, and seemed to tangle me in dark roots that dug into my body. He looked up at me with glossy eyes. 

"Rowen.. are you safe?" He squeaked. I patted his head reassuringly.

"Yes.. The Beasts can't hurt me, since I'm not under oath.. but Poison doesn't play that nice. The Beasts are sort of protecting me from them if they find out- which they don't right now." 

"Why are you doing it?" He fidgeted with the collar of my tank top, gently sliding the fabric across his fingers. 

"Money." I simply said. 

"Why don't you get a job?" 

"No one wants to hire the meanest kid in town." I chuckled. His head pressed against my shoulder as he continued to mess with my shirt. "I'm doing what I can to survive right now." I took my hand from his hair and slid myself up. Chip sat up and looked at me, shyly smiling. 

"Maybe Mom will put in a good word for you at the diner." I sighed. The reality was I didn't want to miss walking him home from school everyday. But, I need the money.. and I need something to do while he's at school. 

"Okay.. I'll do it only if I'm able to pick you up." The quiet boy laughed.

"Alright, I'll tell her.." He kept his eyes on me for longer than I anticipated. 

"What?" I whispered. He shook himself out of his trance.

"You need a shower. Your hair's all stiff and you smell like grass." I laughed at the blunt response. He jokingly waved a hand in front of his nose.

"Shut up!" I said, pushing him away from me. I walked into the small bathroom, the smell of soap filling my nose. I turned the water on and took my biweekly shower which Chip always complained about. I told him I took baths in the lake but he quickly told me to stop doing that. The shower was refreshing, the warm water softened my skin and as I scrubbed soap I felt like five pounds of dirt flew off of me. I walked out and covered myself with a towel, heading to Chip's room. I opened the door and I saw his eyes immediately dart away, not knowing what to look at. I started to pick up my tank top, before he stopped me.

"No, that's all dirty. Pick my clothes." I rolled my eyes at this.

"Do any of them fit?" 

"Yes! Just try hard enough!" I scrambled through his pile of laundry on the floor. I picked out another tank top, this one a sage green color. I also adopted a pair of black track pants, which Chip claimed he never wore since they were way too big. 

"Do you have underwear?" I asked. His face went red. 

"Uh, I don't know if any would fit you.. But I have one pair in that basket that's a little too big." I rummaged through and pulled them out. I looked at him and told him to turn around. He continued to be flustered as I put on all the clothes, which miraculously fit. 

"You're good." I said as I looked down at myself. He turned. 

"Take a jacket, it's getting cold." I found a black windbreaker. "C'mon, at least a hoodie. I know you want to show off your tattoos but it won't look so cool when you have frostbite covering them." I sighed.

"Chill out, old man. I'm fine. And you like my tattoos even more than I do." He scoffed at this, even though we both knew this was true. I only had three. One was a small sea turtle on my right shoulder, which was the first one I got. The second one was dog fangs that traced my collarbone. The third and final one was in the middle of my chest where a familiar doodle of a skull with crossed out eyes resided. I was very proud of them, and would show Chip immediately after. He would always be a lot more excited than I was. 

I again collapsed onto the bed as Chip started to unwillingly do his homework. He would sometimes use my back as a table, which never really bothered me. Today, I was a pillow. He laid his head on my back as he opened a small book. 

"I hate reading." He complained. I mumbled in response. Soon after, the sound of a door being swung open echoed through the house. 

"Kids! I'm home, and we need to talk!" Ms. Davis yelled. 

"Oh no.." Chip said, getting up. I stretched and rolled over.

"Does she mean me too?" I asked. 

"Of course she does." He replied, walking out of the room. I felt uneasy as I stood up.

I could tell this wasn't going to be good.