Drip…. Drip…. Drip.

The warm blood fell to the white floor, pooling around his bashed-in skull.

Someone was screaming.

Tears mixed with blood.

I still held the stupid glass trophy. It was soaked in blood.

The guns were aimed at me.

I dropped the trophy. The clatter was all too loud.

The cuffs were cold against my wrists.

The interrogation room lights were bright.

My eyes hurt. Everything hurt.

I still ached sometimes. I remembered that day clearly. Every little detail. After all, it had only been a year. A year since I had left that damn town. A year since I was kicked out. And now I was here. Living in this old truck that I had built myself, where I still hadn’t figured out what the hell was up with the heating.

I looked down at my two bags. My old school backpack, filled with clothes and some non-perishable food, and a small black suitcase. I sat up in my seat, biting my lower lip. I picked up the suitcase and slowly unzipped it. The all-too-familiar sound was only accompanied by my trembling breaths.

I slowly opened the lid, whimpering at the sight of the thousands of dollar bills. I had at least a few thousand, maybe even a few tens of thousands. I had never really counted it, never kept track.

But at what cost? How much of my life had I given up for this money? This money that was now practically worthless. I had saved it all this time, and yet I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even get a job. I had nothing and no one. I was nothing and no one. It had all been for nothing. All that agony, all those horrible years…. And here I was, living in my half-built truck.

I let the suitcase fall shut, then zipped it closed and put it on the floor, hiding it under my backpack. I leaned back in my seat, pushing my thick black hair from my face. I considered trying to start the truck, but that would just waste gas. Besides, this town was small enough to walk to pretty much anything.

After a moment of hesitation, I took the suitcase and unzipped it. I pulled out a few dollars, then quickly closed it back up.

Outside was the very definition of cold, but at least it wasn’t snowing too hard. I kept my head down as I walked out of the alleyway and onto the main street. It wasn’t too crowded today, but those who were out and about kept glancing at me. Whatever this town was, they didn’t take kindly to strangers, and I had been told to get out more than once.

Maybe I should’ve taken Eli up on that offer. But he had been taking care of me all my life, and I couldn’t be a burden to him any longer. And so I was here. Starving and cold, living in my crappy truck in some back alley of a town that hated me.

Everyone hated me. Why, I didn’t know. They just seemed to… hate me. The people in this town, especially. I didn’t understand why. Maybe they were just wary of strangers. In a small, tight-knit town, it was possible.

I made it to the hardware store, pushing down the hoods of my two jackets and pulling off my gloves. I immediately got a few suspicious looks. I quickly made my way to the back, where all the vehicle parts were, as this hardware store also doubled as a mechanic shop.

As I looked among the different parts, someone approached. Within moments, I was surrounded by intimidating people, some as young as me.

“Listen, kid,” the supposed leader stepped forward. “We don’t take kindly to outsiders around here. So…,” she stepped concerningly close, “who are you and what do you want with Ivory Tower?”

“Ivory Tower…?” I hesitantly echoed. “Is that… the name of this town?” I hadn’t seen any welcome signs when I had first entered, and I barely recognized this place as a town; it was way too small.

“Something like that,” she moved her jacket aside to not-so-descretely reveal the knives strapped to her thighs and hips. “Your name. Now.”

“R-Raine,” I said. “Raine Swann. Wh-what do you want?”

“We want you to get out of this town,” the leader told me. “We protect each other. Ivory Tower doesn’t want you. And if Ivory Tower doesn’t want you, the people don’t want you.”

“Those aren’t the rules, Anna,” a nearby man said, visibly confused. “We can be suspicious, yes, but we can not threaten and scare someone out of town.” He looked at me. “You’re young, kid, so I’m guessing you’re trying to escape.” He looked back at Anna. “Ivory Tower accepts those who are running.”

“The town may accept them, but that doesn’t mean we have to,” Anna sharply replied, still staring me down with harsh eyes.

“It’s getting late,” a younger girl, clearly annoyed to even be there, said. “We should get back home.”

“She’s right,” the man said. “Come on.” He looked at me. “If you’ve stayed here this long without getting driven out, it must mean that Ivory Tower accepts you. Might take a bit for the people to understand that. In the meantime, just focus on fixing your truck.” The group began to walk away, until the man said. “Don’t live in the past, kid. You’ve already been there.”