Part I:
Dysfunction
Chapter 1: Life
Run, run. You gotta run! I looked around, recognizing the stark white halls, lit by fluorescent lights. The people walking around made echoing footsteps, and I ran the other way; anything to avoid those crowds. I kept running until I heard the bell ring loud, alerting everyone. Just a little farther and I can avoid everyone. I can make it, and…
Done! I saw my locker and got the stuff for my next class. When I closed it, Jennifer Hollen was standing by me, and I jumped. “JEN!!! What the heck, I didn’t notice you! Stop just appearing.”
She smiled, her black hair clinging to her striped sweater. She looked at me, her blue eyes piercing my resolve. “What? Can I not be stealthy? I thought you were smart enough to not let your guard down.”
I rolled my eyes, and grinned. “Maybe. But if I see one more person, I’m gonna go crazy. Thanks for the consideration.”
“Maybe if you weren’t such a spaz, you could get through the school halls without crawling up the walls. But that isn’t gonna happen anytime soon, is it?”
I scowled. “You have no idea.”
She walked with me to the next class. If there was any chance for a relationship there, I didn’t feel it. Maybe it was because I knew her boyfriend before he vanished. That’s a pretty good deflection. Nothing is more off-setting than dating the girlfriend of a dead guy.
Speaking of…
“Jack, you remember the day, right?” Jenny asked.
I looked away. “Yeah. Alex. Today’s the day he went missing. It’s hard to believe it was just two years ago.” I lifted my head back up. “Are you feelin’ alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” She said. Jenny sniffled, obviously not fine. But I wasn’t going to bother her. I walked on to the next class, waiting for school to end.


After three o’clock, the bell rang and I marched off to home a few miles away. The grass was dry and yellowed from a two-month long absence of rain. On the other side of the cracked road, a couple other guys saw me. They were an odd sight: one was a short African-American with a grubby coat and dreads. The other was a tall Caucasian with a torn-up jacket and short brown hair. The short one looked at me and elbowed his partner, nodding. Crap. The Rising Tide street gang’s cronies. I was spotted. I pulled up my green jacket’s hood and hustled into an alley.

Let’s just say I have no need for the gang. My friend Vlad was “acquainted” with them and decided to cut all ties a while ago. Unfortunately, the leader of the pack, Vince Marionne, took a liking to Vlad’s intimidating strength, which used to all but guarantee payment for “protection”. Now he’s being hunted down like a wild dog, along with the rest of us. Any sighting could mean death.

Thanking any and all gods that could possibly exist, I found myself in front of my house without any trouble from the gangsters. A small and old one story suburban house at the corner of 6th and August Streets. When I walked in, I tripped over a pile of trash. My mom was sitting on the couch. She looked ahead blankly.

“Mom?” I waved my hand in front of her face. “Mom!”

She turned to me and looked like she just woke up. “Jack. Hey. Sorry, I’m just…tired.”

“You’re always tired.” She’s been doing this more and more since Alex vanished. “What’s wrong, Mom? Why are you tired?”

She looked at me bleary-eyed. “Alex was a good kid. He kept you guys out of trouble.” She suddenly turned away. “He left to be like your dad.”

This was new. “What? Dad? But, isn’t he dead?”

She laughed and shook her head. Now I’m REALLY worried. “No, no. He’s alive.” I don’t get it. She told me he died in a fire. A fire he started. “I had to let him go. What better way than death?” She zoned again. “You look like him, you act like him. It’s all I can do to not call you Red.” I raised my eyebrow and she chuckled. “That’s his nickname.”

She suddenly stopped smiling and looked ahead, unresponsive. “I’m still waiting, Red. Just come back.” Mom closed her eyes and laid back. A slow breathing pattern revealed she was asleep. Good. That was scary.

The house was a complete mess, dishes piled to the moon, and the curtains were torn to shreds, probably because of the cat.

Speaking of, where is Scarlet? I heard a loud mew under a pile of clothes, and pulled out our little Calico cat. Her green eyes peered questioningly, as if to say, “What’s with all the trash? It’s like a mountain range in here.” I set her down on the rocking chair, and tossed her a string with a bell. Scarlet chased the piece of fabric with a rabid ferocity.

I flopped down on the couch and grabbed the TV remote, operating our impossibly small television set. I flipped through the channels, and stopped on the news. I had a bad feeling about this breaking news story…

“We broadcast at 5 today to bring you breaking news,” the newswoman said. “At 4:36 this afternoon, a foot chase was initiated by police. An officer recognized a 17-year-old fugitive by the name of Vladimir Ross. This young man has a warrant for assault, and is affiliated with the infamous Rising Tide street gang. The police have chased him across town, and are currently racing down Baxter Avenue.”

Vlad, what have you done this time? I suppose I should help him out. Back into the city streets I go.