GRAY. 

PAST.

Sitting on a bench in the park, I swing my legs, gazing up at the sky. It is quite early in the morning, so there is hardly anybody around. The only people around are me, my dad, and a man that I do not know. Dad said that we would be meeting one of his old friends, that is all I know. He said the man would give us some money so we would finally get some food. My stomach grumbles, glancing at the two of them curiously. I really am hungry.

I just hope that dad doesn’t hear the rumbling.

I don’t think that he did thankfully. They are a few feet away from me, but I can’t hear what they are saying. I know they are talking by how their lips are moving, but not loud enough that it is being kept private between them. It makes me a little curious, but I know it is not good to ask questions.

It's not like anyone else is around to hear them.

I begin to hum a song mom used to sing to me before she left. Dad said to forget about her and never talk about her again. I listened, I did, but I kept the song in my memories. I sometimes hum it when dad isn’t around to scold me. It is my comfort food. My parents used to tell me that life had been better before I was born, not because they didn’t want me. It was because they had been more secure. Mom would tell me how she would spend hours shopping, and dad would spend his evening drinking his favourite brand of whiskey. They said sometimes they would throw parties that would last all night long. I never understood why they did that instead of sleeping. Their eyes would sparkle whenever they would remember, like they could almost be that again. They reminded me that everything changed when I turned two. My dad’s boss in his gang got killed by an enemy Lord. This would cause him to lose his job, and our family to lose our home and savings because they had to leave everything behind as they would need to run for their lives.

I don’t remember any of that. They acted like it was my fault.

I don’t know what it is like to be a part of that life.

Since I was old enough to understand, we struggled to make ends meet. We barely were able to keep our old trailer home, but I didn’t care. I loved it. I can’t miss what I never had, but my parents were different. They missed it. Mom was the only one who worked. Dad couldn’t keep a job, but now she is gone. She got up one morning before dad and I woke up, and just left. Dad knew immediately that she wasn’t coming back, but I held onto that small sliver of hope. How could she leave her child like that?

I had it until I couldn’t anymore.

Things have become a lot harder since she left. Dad still has no job. I tried to get one but the lady at the store told me she would get arrested if she hired me. We’re getting kicked out of the trailer and we have no food. Dad says his friend is his last hope. I glance over at them again and they are looking at me this time. I smile at dad, but he doesn’t return it. They turn back to each other and talk some more. I continue to watch them this time.

There’s nothing here I can play with anyway.

I wonder what they are saying. I wonder if I’ll talk like that with other people when I am older, too. I’m only ten but my parents tell me I act like I’m older. Still, I can’t imagine talking to someone for so long. Maybe it is just because I am hungry. I can’t go to dad. He told me to sit here until he comes for me, so that’s what I am going to do. If I do as he says, he won’t hit me.

I always listen to him. It makes him proud of me. 

The man puts out his hand, making me focus more closely. He takes out a wad of cash and gives it to dad. Wow, with all of that, we could buy all the food we want. We could also pay for our trailer. It’s old, and it smells sometimes when it rains, but I like it. It’s because we are together. I smile from ear-to-ear, hoping dad will look my way but he doesn’t. I watch him take the money and put it in his pocket. It does not fit but he forces all of it inside. It kind of intrigues me as I see it. His left pocket now bulges. I stifle my laughter. The man walks towards me, but dad walks in the opposite direction. It makes me frown, wondering where dad is going in such a hurry.

“Dad!” I call after him, hoping that maybe he must have just forgotten about me, “wait!”

He does not stop walking. 

“Dad!” I yell louder, hoping that he will turn to look at me, “dad, I’m coming! Wait for me!”

The man is in front of me now. He scans me with his eyes, but the smile on his face when he gets to my face sends a shiver down my spine, one of fear. Something about him rubs me the wrong way and the word ‘danger’ is in red letters flashing in my mind. I don’t know why but I know if I don’t get away from him, something is going to happen to me.

“Where’s my dad going?” I whisper, getting off the bench to go after dad, but the man stops me.

“Where are you going?” He growls, his voice deep and rough, “I don’t believe that I gave you permission to do anything yet.”

I try to get him off me, but he won’t let go. Dad is far away now. My heart is pounding hard in my chest, growing more afraid. I don’t understand what is happening.

“Dad!” I yell once more, making the man laugh, so I just glare at him, “where’s my dad going?”

“He’s going to get milk.” He teases me, placing his grubby hand on the back of my neck, “it’s something men like him love to do. I’m sure you’ll understand one day.”

“Milk?” I’m confused, echoing him now because I don’t understand what he is saying, “what does that mean?”

I frown. I could have tagged along. Why is he going alone? This is not making any sense.

“I want to follow him.” I try to explain, hoping he would just leave me alone, “I don’t want to get left behind. Get out of my way! I don’t know you!”

The man laughs again. His voice is sinister, making me want to scream “stranger-danger”. I hate what he is doing to me.

“You can’t.” He yanks me forward, being quite cold, “from now on, you stay with me.”

I shake my head. Where’s my dad? Why did he leave me with this man? I don’t like him. I don’t like him at all. I want to go home. None of this is making any sense.

“No!” I try to run again, but he doesn’t loosen his grip, “let me go!”

I can’t go anywhere. I start to cry. I don’t usually cry, but I do. I want to go but I can’t. He’s too strong for me. It’s like nothing that I do protects me from him, and dad never turned back when I screamed for him. I don’t think he is ever coming home…

“You belong to me, pretty boy.” He tells me, a sinister smile on his face, “Let’s go home.”

I continue to struggle as he pulls me along with him. He doesn’t once loosen his grip or budge. I continue to call for dad to save me from this man, but he doesn’t come. This was the moment that I knew there were few people who could be trusted out there.

Just like mom never came back, dad never did, too…

The years of torture inflicted by this man would be engraved in my mind for years to come…

Later, I would learn it was called PTSD.

PRESENT.

I wake up with tears streaming down my face, startled awake.

I let out a groan, knowing this was going to happen. I annoyingly wipe them off with the back of my hand. I don’t bother dwelling on anything. The dreams come and go as they please. Today had been a more pleasant one, so I should be thankful. Getting out of bed, I start to prepare for my day even though my clock read four-AM. I’m never going to be able to go back to sleep, so there is no point in staying in bed and letting my thoughts wander to places I don’t want them to.

I can’t.

Even though I wish I was in the Bahamas right now, I’m kind of excited about the new challenge Lennox brings to my life. Not the man himself, he’s just annoying. I would like to find out about who is after him, and I can’t wait to meet the killers that he will send next. Not what I had planned, but I am looking forward to it…

Except for being with Lennox.

I can tell he is just going to make me want to strangle him every second, but I won’t. I’ll summon every ounce of my self-control. I don’t know why he gets on my nerves so much because normally, people like him don’t bother me. I guess I’ll figure this out the hard way if anything. He’s going to be lucky if I don’t murder him for being annoying and testing my patience.

Let’s just hope I have a lot of it.