Noxious

10 | plastic dream

Charly

I didn't know where I was going. 

All I knew was that I couldn't stay at my safe place because it had been invaded by my half-brother who I hadn't seen since I was two. If he wanted to stick around and sell drugs after my warning, it was his choice. The rival gang always knew what happened on their streets. 

I walked down the sidewalk with my hands stuffed in my hoodie. 

If he was in the same city, what about the other? Were they both here? 

Was my luck that fucking bad? 

I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn't notice when I approached a police cruiser parked on the curb. When the driver's door popped open, I practically jumped backward. 

Officer Layden casually got out. 

"I haven't even done anything," I said quickly. Officer Glauser approached me from behind. I looked between the two of them, "What's going on?" 

"We were told you'd be in this area," Officer Glauser answered, "Your foster parents called us this morning and told us you haven't been home in three days. They are worried sick about you." 

Yeah, I fucking bet. 

"We went to the high school you're registered at and they said you haven't been to school in over three weeks," Officer Layden added, "Is there something going on, Charly?" 

These motherfuckers. They have the expertise to hunt down a kid who hasn't attended school in a while, but they can't apply the same knowledge to why that kid doesn't want to go home. The world is so blind. All the signs were evident.

"Okay?" I snapped, "Nothing is going on, I just don't want to go to school." 

"You need to," Officer Glauser said, "I know it might seem pointless to you but you will be better off with a diploma in the future." 

I scoffed, "Are you going to lecture me now?" 

Officer Layden sighed, "Get in the car, we're taking you home." 

I stiffened. That was the last fucking place I wanted to be. My eyes darted across the street, contemplating running, but Officer Layden knew it. He grabbed my wrist and, like a well-rehearsed dance, Officer Glauser opened the cruiser door and Officer Layden pushed me into the back seat. 

They didn't let me have the chance to run. 

Shame. 

I picked at my nailbeds the entire drive to my house. I knew something was up. My foster parents never gave a shit where I ended up on the streets. It was dead silent in the police cruiser as it stopped in front of my own personal hell. 

Officer Layden opened my door and I got out. 

"Thanks for nothing," I said and walked up to the front door. The cruiser drove away. I took a deep breath before I entered the house. Pungent cigarette smoke hit me in the face followed by the stench of alcohol and sex. 

I hated it here. 

"It's about fucking time you showed your face around here," My foster dad appeared from the living room, "Get your ass cleaned up, the social worker is meeting us in an hour because you fucked up." 

I nodded, keeping my eyes downcast. 

He walked closer, gripping my hair. "You know what's expected of you," He said lowly, his breath smelt horrible, "Fuck it up for us, and I fuck you up. Understood?"