Forlorn Chapter 2

           Life has been harsh these last seventeen years. My good days were during high school and high school sucked. My friends were somewhat of a bad influence on me. I also was having it out with my foster family. They were alright looking back, but I was young and dumb and didn’t appreciate any kindness. I lifted a car, spent a little time in juvie and since then have been making worse decisions. I can’t seem to say no.

Since my encounter with professor Randal life has been weird, like I am always having Deja vu.

The day I got arrested for stealing the car was a huge Deja vu. The cop, the car, everything about that day was like a dream, a vivid dream. I saw worst moments of my life, in that office with Professor Randal.

I used to wonder if I could change my destiny, so far every wrong choice happened exactly the way I saw them. It would be helpful if I could remember the events before they happened. The day I die I remember just fine, it serves as a harsh memory. I used to push the paranoia off as just a string of weird coincidence, but with all Deja vu I began to believe.

"Masks on boys, we'll be there soon." Johnny said and everyone listen.

Johnny "fast draw", he was kind of a joke. If he wasn't the boss’s nephew he would have been killed a long time ago. Everyone hated him, but we were smart enough to realize we didn't disobey. He ran a good crew even if they did want to kill him. He was sometimes dumb, but always lucky. He is what you can say the bosses right hand man. He handled heists as well as taking out the trash if you know what I mean. 

I was always the brains and subsequently the brawn too. When he ran my plans correctly we never had problems, it was when he made changes that we got into trouble. Eh who really cared? I was smart enough to always keep my nose clean and somehow Johnny was lucky enough to escape. Though we had to operate a couple breakouts for him; bosses orders you know.

I had never actually met the bosses. It wasn't exactly protocol. The Feds were very confused with who they were probably because we were too. We reported to the ‘fake bosses’. Terry and Salvo, two fat lazy pieces of craps in my opinion. They thought they knew everything. They believed themselves to be a higher race than the rest of use, except Johnny of course. Man that kid had it all, a straight ticket to the top. I had to work my way up, show off a little pizazz.

It was Salvo who took to liking me. He was a little better at recognizing talent. He said I reminded him of himself when he was little. I didn't take that as a complement. No one would if they knew Salvo. He was a nice enough guy innless you were his cook. He fired the last couple from what I hear and I don't mean fire as in terminating their employment, I mean fired at them. It was only the cooks, a man who thought only for his stomach. He had a new one and Salvo loves the kid almost like he was his own.

We were sent out to pay our respects to another gang. They ripped Terry off in their last business adventure. So as he said “Larry will pay boys, won’t he?”

            Larry “do-gooder” as we call him on account of him always claiming to help the community. Getting revenge would be a big job and dangerous at that. Do-gooder’s guys were loyal, probably the loyalist out of all the mobs. I wished I would have started over there. They were a little smaller, but I would have made them grow, just like I had with our crews. The only difference was I would have been rewarded better over there. The grass is always greener, though I guess.


            The black van jumped up as we hit a bump. “Falco” we screamed. He was an alright guy, drove the best out of the rest of us. He was a little heavy, which was one reason he was driving. He was also the best driver. The other guys we had driving before had a tendency to floor it, go as fast as they could. Things got sloppy when we rushed things. Falco was smart and he had great eyes. That was how he got his nick name Falco. We didn’t know if it was because of a sixth sense or his eyes, but he always knew the best way to take.

We all had black masks on with eyes cut out. Typical uniforms for this line of work. Although if one of our bodies were left the police would know what gang we were from. We were tatted with the same crest or similar variations. The sign of our heritage, whether we were born in like Falco and Johnny or adopted in, like myself.

I got in because I knew a kid in school. We got tangled up with his older brothers. They brought me in and I have been here ever since. He didn’t make it to long after our first outing with the crew. I watched him die. I stayed around to make sure he was okay. Everyone was furious they told me “you leave them when they aren’t gonna make it”. I guess it’s a rule. They don’t want a live person in the cop’s hands. You get caught and they think you’ll squeal, you better hope those cops never leave your side.

            The seats were tore out in the van and it was an uncomfortable ride. Most of use crouched awkwardly. I looked over at Romo, the new kid, he talked about how he was from Rome, stupid cause no one cared. He was shaking so bad, might have even peed his pants, but I couldn’t tell it was too dark in the van. I wonder if I was like that on my first outing. Maybe, but I can see why he’s scared this was a rough job.

I saw the flower and conjoined jewelry shops. The doors flew open, we were out quick and Falco was down the street, squealing the tires around a corner. He was to circle back when we were done. I heard gunshots, it was quicker than planned. They went straight for the jewelry store.

We were told to take our money back somehow. I stayed out front, not like we planned. There were supposed to be two men out front, but everyone else rushed in. I watched the corners of the street and the flower shop. The flower shop door across the road flew open. I sprayed bullets at the glass windows and doors. The men must have retreated back in. We just had to keep them back a little longer.

I sprayed another set of rounds at the front of the shop, to let them know I was still there. Falco should be back by now, he was just supposed to circle and the guys inside were taking too long. Then I saw the black van speed off, Johnny was in the front seat.

It dawned on me, they left out the back, like they planned. I was the man left to take the fall. I spun back to the flower shop, sprayed once more, turned and ran. I knew that Do-Gooder’s men would coming from every direction. I looked for a sewer drain before they could see me.

Gun fire ripped past my ears. I turned the corner and found a storm drain. I pulled the little crowbar out of my back. I carried it to break the protective glass. I had the drain lid off quick and was in. I dropped to the bottom never using the ladder. I ran through the slop and never looked back. I heard voices yelling and knew I had to get out and change. I would exit around 15^th and Mardi Street it was near the limits of their territory. I just had to find it, which was hard without any signs.

            I turned left and right. I made a mental picture of where I was going. I should be there I thought. I grabbed the ladder nearest to the street and climbed. I pushed the lid off and looked out. I popped up in a back ally. This was the luckiest I had been all day.

I climbed out of the gutter and the ally looked familiar, so familiar. I had been there before I thought, but I knew physically I never had. I saw a red car drive by in my mind, but there was nothing in front of me. I ran behind a trashcan, ducked down and tucked my knees in. A red car sped past, too quickly to notice me contorted behind the trash. I stayed crouched for a couple of minutes, “what happened?” For the first time in my life I had déjà vu before something bad happened.

 I knew there would be a lot more men driving around. I had to move. I climbed the fence behind me avoiding the roads, I was heading for the flea market near the dam. I ditched my mask and my jacket. I had a red shirt on, which was different enough to give me time. I just had to ditch the wet pants and shoes and I would stand a chance.    

Forlorn

             I stepped into professor Randal’s office. I looked around for any sign of money or valuables. I was always known for being a good kid, but I was good at hiding my intentions. I figured it was okay to make a different legacy for myself than what people wanted. Given the fact that no one has ever looked after me, why should I look out for them?

When I was four, I was taken to the foster system. I can’t remember anything before that and have tried to forget everything since. I had nothing to tell me about my family. All I had when I entered were bruises, well that’s what they told me at the home.

I had never directly been involved with the law, at least never got caught. I was good at covering my tracks.

            

            I heard a click behind me. The noise startled me as I spun toward the door where the noise came from.

“Oh! Mr. Randal you startled me.”

            

            “What are you doing?” He questioned.

            

            “I heard you wanted to speak to me.” It was the first thing that came to mind. It was always better to throw the conversation back on them, make them feel like they have to come up with a reason.

            

            “Who told you that?”

            “Ms. Larney” I picked the weirdest teacher I could think of, it would make it more believable. “She said you were looking for me.”

            “How did you get in?” I smiled momentarily as I understood Mr. Randal was not a fool.

            “Through the door. Well, if you weren’t looking for me I will just go.”

            Quickly, before I could react, Mr. Randal reached across the room and grabbed my head in the palm of his hand. A surge of energy coursed through me. It felt like the rushing of cool water through my veins. Little violent shocks ran about my body upon his contact. My vision was distorted and all saw were blurry images.

I didn’t know how long that occurred, but it was odd. I had a deep feeling that I went somewhere else entirely. I left his office, but not physically, more so in my mind. I saw my life passing before me. Images and emotions flew past; even physical pain coursed in my joints, simulating severe growing pains. I saw people who I felt strong attachments to, but never met. Then as briefly as they came they were ripped away.

One image, so far the most vivid and powerful dominated my mind. I sat in a hard backed wooden chair, in an elegant room. The chair was the only part of the room not lavishly decorated, the molding was carved with intricate circled patterns and the armchairs against the wall were cushioned and made of exquisite leather. Before me sat a panel of men. They wore suits and although it was not dark they faces were shadowed. Every person I had seen so far their faces were recognizable, but not these ones. They were upset and it was at me. Every instinct told me to move, but no matter what I thought my legs remained stuck to the sunlit marble floor.

“Don’t lie to me!” One man screamed as he stood.

I scampered to my feet and knocked the chair to the ground as I ran from them, but I heard a screaming shot and I fell. The floor was hard and the vision was beginning to fade, as a stream of blood began to stretch past my face. Everything went black and red.

The images had ended and Professor Randal was holding my arm supporting my weight. I was back in his office.

“Are you okay?” he asked looking at me oddly.

“Yea, just a dizzy spell.” Did he have a clue what happened?

“Okay, well just go take a seat then.” I politely excused myself. I assured him I would be okay as I left.

It seemed as though years had passed, but it was just moments from what I gathered.

            I have heard so many people say that if they saw their future they would change it. I myself believe that is not true.

My name is Matthew Larkin and I had the chance to change mine, but ignored my warning and believed it was just a dream.