Chapter 1

I fucked up. One decision, one that determined my fate. And it was a decision that changed my life. If I only knew that a little earlier, well... things might be different.

I stood by a sight I haven't seen in a while. To be a little more accurate, around a year. Of course, it didn't seem that long ago with how familiar this place was. The town's local drug store was a location I had visited my whole life. Though, I guess the word 'visited' isn't that appropriate considering I was forced to come here. Because of the papers, those damning documents. The papers that said I needed drugs to help me. Help. Yeah right. For the numerous years I have taken that medicine, it has been anything but helpful. It was a brand.

This was the place that accepted my reality made up by the world of doctors and exposed it. The place that owned me, backed up by the papers. I didn't miss this worn down establishment, the building that I was forced into. It was a place that housed proof that I had no say or rights according to the medicine I was given, backed up by evidence that I was insane.

It was only a coincidence I was here now. Sidewalks after broken sidewalks. Roads after endless towns. Walking and walking until here I was. I knew this town was my next stop before I meet my destination. I pondered over whether I made the right choice. Whether or not I should have come this way. Maybe I should have just gone through other cities around this one to get to my destination. But I knew that the quickest way would be through this town. My home town I left more than a year ago. One that was still looking for me according to what a sign on the drug store window said.

Missing was written under a picture of a 16 year old me. It also gave information on me. Such as my eye color which was brown, my hair as black, and my age at the time including my name. It also gave the date in which I had gone missing which was at the beginning of April, a little after my birthday. I was surprised they actually put up signs and kept them up for that long. I guess maybe it was because in this small town, there wasn't much that happened and there were not many teenagers that had gone missing around here. They need some excitement, right? They hated me but they kept looking because what else was there to do in this bland shit hole?

Seeing that sign... it made me more nervous. What if someone sees me? What if they catch me? I can't go home. No matter how screwed up my life is on the streets, I wont go home. It was a huge risk I was taking, coming through this town where people obviously still had hope I was out there and alive - even if it was a fake hope lined with the resentment they also gave me. Looking around at the cars passing under the traffic lights by the store, I realized how stupid I was with how I was out in the open. I knew to come around this time of the day. The sun was setting and darkness would cover me as I pass through town. But what if it wasn't enough to cover my presence here?

With my hood already up and covering most of my face, I started off down the abandoned sidewalks again. Just a few miles, I kept telling myself. A few miles and then I am out of this town. But even though it was getting darker, I felt I went too far in coming here. It was too much of a risk. Maybe even for me.

But at the same time... it gave me a thrill. A stupid thrill that would someday cost me something big. What I didn't know then was that day was today. What I didn't know was that I did indeed take it way to far in returning here. A tingling feeling came over me and it had nothing to do with the weed in my system. It had to do with the fact that I was here, in my home town. It was dangerous coming back here because if I get caught, my life is ruined. Whether in jail or at home, my life would be back in the dump if I get caught - as if it wasn't already there. Yet, I liked that feeling in me now. A risk being taken. For over a year of the same bullshit, I liked the excitement running over me. I was never safe in the streets with all the other screw-ups like me but after a while of being on my own, I started a routine. Soon, it got boring. And when things get boring for me, it's time for a change. But... this was different. A decision that could blow up in my face.

Soon, it was dark and night was upon me. As I walked the sidewalk between the street and the fences of houses, I looked up and saw that the moon was out, bright and beautiful with a blanket of passing clouds. Among the cruel world I was walking through, the stars above were points of a shine that seemed to put me at peace in that small second.

The next town was coming up. A few more miles and I would be out of this town. But I could feel my guard coming down, my strength start to collapse and fear was slowly entering me. I was becoming aware of this choice and how it could end up destroying me if caught. Paranoid now, and shaking, I knew that when I get to the next town, I immediately needed a smoke. There wasn't much weed left in my bag I was carrying on my back but enough to get me by.

I didn't like where I was by the street. Didn't like the street lights shining down on me every couple of yards while walking even though I was in a hoodie and my face blended into the shadows. Looking ahead as I walked along the sidewalk, I didn't turn back when I heard something. I kept walking as if I heard nothing, not wanting to acknowledge whatever it was. And to me, it sounded like footsteps.

Keep walking, keep going I told myself. Nobody was following me and I tried convincing myself of that. I was just being paranoid. I haven't been this worried in a while so of course, I might hear some things. Despite whatever I was hearing or wasn't, I couldn't turn around. Because with the chance it was someone, if I turn around, it might give me away. All I could do was hope that whoever was walking behind me was some random person.

I thought about running but before I could act, I heard the footsteps on the cement deliver a louder and faster pace step until it was too late. My shoulder was grabbed and someone pulled me back, making me gasp. Between the sidewalk was the road and short fence and I felt myself being pushed back against that fence. It happened so fast - and before I could do anything.

But before I realized what was going on, I tried getting away. I honestly didn't know what was going away. I just knew I was grabbed and getting pinned. No matter the reason, it didn't matter though. Someone, whether a cop or robber or someone random - didn't matter who - was getting in my way of leaving. And I needed to leave, get out of here and I knew how important that was now. It didn't matter who it was or why because no matter what the cause or who, it was a risk to stay here any longer. And from how incredibly 'civil' they obviously seemed to be by pinning me against a damn fence, I knew that wasn't a good sign. So you can safely assume I wasn't going down without a fight.

I tried pushing him off me as I struggled, trying to rip his grip from my arm and shoulder away. As I did that, using my muscles and all my weight, I tried pushing him back and away from my body. He was saying something but do you think I gave a shit what he said at the moment? Hell no. Not when I had one goal: saving my own ass after entering my old town. After coming back here. How very smart of me.

I tried and tried, moving my body forward and against his strength and just in time for my conclusion: I couldn't. He anticipated my need to escape, pressing his hand harder against my shoulder, leaning in as well. Tightening his hand on my arm, he pressed some of his weight against me that I was trying to fight, pushing me even more to the point of clear defeat about to reach me.

"Let go you son of a bitch!" I screamed, moving my legs too. I tried my hand - or rather leg - in kicking him and that was something he didn't see. About time too. He was tricky but I was just relieved to feel me get something back for all this hustle. Hitting his leg with a hard kick, his hold loosened just slightly and from that, I was able to get the opportunity to knee him in the groin. So I obviously took that opportunity - who wouldn't?

Hearing his grunt from kneeing him there, his arms nearly dropped and at that being my only way of escape, I pushed him back, grunting myself with how hard he still held me. I could stop trying; no matter what with how much I needed to get out of here. It wasn't about want. I needed to get out of here....

Though his hold you tight, I was able to get away from his strong and stabilizing arms. I didn't hesitate in what to do either when I felt myself get away. My feet dug into the ground with absolute purpose now - like I should have done a second before he grabbed me. But once again, that's just how incredibly 'smart' I was. Yep, lets think about running when there was someone behind me but not actually run. It wouldn't have hurt just to runaway, even if unsure. But no, I had to think about it! That was probably the only thinking done today in my little brain and it was the only time I should have just acted on instincts instead. Oh yes, it was turning out to be a great day for me!

I ran as fast as I could. At least I was smart enough to do that I guess. I knew my way around town well enough, knowing where I needed to hear. Not to mention the great advantage I had in knowing there wasn't much left until I reach the edge of town. It was a small place after all. I just needed to outlast him in my legs. So I ran more and more. My backpack hitting my back with every greedy step as I sprinted, I knew I wasn't stopping until I was far enough away.

It was my decision not to stop now that I was running. Unfortunately, it didn't mean I couldn't be stopped.

I was on the ground a moment later. A strong force hit my side, taking me down and I fell to a grassy lawn. If only the results of this would be as soft as the landing.... I knew they wouldn't be if I couldn't get away. Which seemed to be a fair assumption with my position. The guy was holding me down quickly, his body weight over me and hands holding my wrists to the ground. Of course, I tried bucking him off me, pushing him and doing what I could to get away. But he was really strong and didn't even seem to budge.

"You are coming with me. You're under arrest," he said, his voice deep and aimed at me.

"Hey, what the hell?! I have a right to know what I'm being arrested for! It's a crime to go missing?" I asked angry.

"You are under arrest for stealing. Breaking and entering." He said, all the while I tried moving out from under him but he wouldn't allow it.

"Get the hell off me!" I screamed again, knowing my mouth was my only tool left since my body was useless with a hulking man over me.

However, it was surprisingly not for much longer. The man raised up and off of me, even if it was only to haul me to my feet, his hand gripping my arm and making me stand before him. I finally got to see who it was and of course, a cop. Surprise, surprise. From the little light of a close street light along with the light casted by the moon, I was able to look at him enough to catch some of his features.

He had brown hair styled in a professional way, cut at his neck and around his ears. It framed his face quite nicely, actually. He had a strong build yet lean, obvious muscles under his clothes not commonly shown with the uniform he wore no doubt. He seemed young for a cop; mid or late 20s maybe. I couldn't see him as well as I figured at first but saw he was kind of attractive.

He began towing me back to his car, which, I saw, was not but a few yards away. His strong grip on me and his position guaranteed I would not escape despite my struggle as he dragged me closer to his car. What other option did I have but to yell at this stubborn cop.

"You have no right! Asshole!"

As he pulled me along, I felt my stomach drop and heart turn. This was it. I was doomed, done for, and dead. I hope I could somehow stay in jail if it was between that and going home. Because obviously, I knew better. I quickly realized now, at being caught, there was no more running for me. I was caught and because of it, I was completely screwed. Like I knew I would be if caught. Not worth the risk I took at all. I could feel the regret start to turn within my stomach.

When we got to the police car, he pushed me lightly against the hood of the car, making me bend over it with my hands flat on the surface of the car. My breath came harder, panic and fear over me. No control and the only way to change that is to have the illusion of control. A second after he bent me over the hood of the car, he spoke. Yet I couldn't register as I felt him search me. I was panicking and when that happens, I don't give off a usual reaction like most people. I don't cower in fear because I don't allow myself to. I show my anger and try to inflict anger. That or try to be annoying.

He searched me, running his hands slowly over my sides, moving them down over me. I couldn't help but notice the way his hands felt going down my body after he removed the bag from my back. It rested on the ground to inspect later where he would find another surprise and reason for my arrest. But at that moment, his large hands and finger tips ran down my back, to my sides then back up again. His touch left a chill that ran through me as he traced my curves. After going over my back and sides twice, making sure he didn't miss anything, his hands traveled down to my hips and cupped my ass before going down my legs and moving back up and doing it again. Once he came back down and ran them down to my inner thighs, it was in my nature to say something.

"Problems with the wife, buddy?" I said, knowing that cops had to go slow to make sure they got everything. Nothing wrong with provoking though if I was already on my way to the slammer, right?

He was silent as he his continued down my thighs and legs. Then he roughly spun me around so I could face him. Holding me hard, his eyes met mine and when they did, I saw something break his blank face he seemed good at keeping. He didn't continue searching me at first as I expected and, I'm assuming, as he was suppose to. His eyes widened as they met mine and his eyebrows raised as he stared at me. And as he stared at me, I got a better look at him.

His skin was pale and smooth and I was right; I could tell now that he was around mid twenties maybe. His eyes, green with flecks of brown shimmering beneath, were looking into my eyes with his perfectly shaped eyebrows bent. After a moment, he looked quite confused as he just stood there staring at my eyes.

"Come on dude, would you just get on with it. I don't think it's professional to check out the person you are arresting," I teased getting annoyed, knowing my life was over. That didn't mean I wasn't panicking and when I do, I try to act like I'm not. I try to act like I don't care.

"You are Albany Higgins, are you not?" He said in a daze, as if realizing who I was.

I scoffed. What a terrible way for a cop to do his job. Shouldn't you be damned sure of who you are arresting? "Albany Higgins, I am," I teased from how he asked that question.

He sighed, shaking his head and that surprised and confused expression was gone. What remained was what seemed to be his regular blank face, giving away nothing. He said nothing as he started searching the front of me, his hands moving down my shoulders and stomach, moving up and feeling around my breasts before continuing down to my hips and thighs. I was surprised that I gasped from his hands as they caressed some areas that would make one blush. But more than that, I gasped because... well, his hands felt strangely good. I'm honestly ashamed to admit that.

"Is this what you call foreplay sir?" I asked after he was finishing patting me down for the second time. "I'm disappointed."

His face remained blank, no expression or reaction and honestly, that pissed me off. I know that I should be pissed at the fact that my life has turned back to shit and I was. I was more than angry about that. But the fact that he didn't respond in any way to my words... it was surprising because there was always a response to whoever I usually say those kinds of things to. And I didn't like the fact that he wasn't getting angry like I already was.

He finished and when he did, I felt his arms guide me to turn around again. He moved me until I was pressed against the side of the car again, my back to him as I felt him move my hands behind my back. Then, I felt something cold latch around my wrist behind my back a second before the other wrist received that same treatment. He handcuffed me.

"Now we're talking," I said, referencing my comment of foreplay but a second ago. But really, I was so scared. I wasn't sure what would happen to me but I knew that if I tried hard enough, I could probably get away like I did last time. I lasted on the streets and could do it again if I could get away from my mother. However, if they locked me up, I couldn't escape. But jail would be like life in the streets to me I figure. Just more safety and less freedom. At least I would be away from that bitch whether I run or am locked up.

After he had handcuffed me, he made me get into the backseat of the car. Closing the door, I watched out my dark window as he bent over and grabbed my bag. The reminder came back to me once I saw him take my bag. I could feel it in my bones now. I needed the weed.... I was hooked by now - to the feeling anyway, not the actual weed - and needed more in my system very soon otherwise... well, it would get bad. Not to mention, I was pretty stressed at the moment.

Watching as he opened my bag, shuffling around the few clothes I had and other essentials, I knew he found it when his searching hand froze. He pulled out what remained of the weed in a small bag I had. There wasn't much and I wanted to have it now, my skin feeling as if it would burn along with everything within me if I didn't get it. Along with the weed, he pulled out the rolling papers with them as well as the lighter.

Looking to his face, I saw he looked... disappointed. Sad and curious too as well as worried. "Shall I add to the list possession of marijuana?" he asked when he looked at me through the window that was cracked open for air - which also allowed me to hear him.

After a moment, he put my bag in the car in front with him before he got in himself. He started the car, but before he put in drive, he spoke. "Do you even care?" He asked, sounding somewhat frustrated or shocked, making me smile. Maybe this was his reaction in which I was waiting for. Not so much anger like I wanted but I was at least happy to see he had some reaction and I was affecting this bastard.

"Depends. Care about what?"

He scoffed in astonishment, turning slightly to see me through the bars separating the front from the back. His eyes meeting mine, he answered me. "Care that you're here. That you will be facing punishment. Do you not care about your life?"