Chapter 1 - The Streets

Prologue

Run, run. Got to get away. If I stop, that will be the end of me. Damn  it !why can’t I get my hands free!

Another shot echoed over the treetops. They are closing in. shit!shit! I mustn’t let them hear me.

My hands are tied hard and my mouth are taped.  I kept running, the dark is blinding but I have to get away.  I can’t see light ahead of the darkness . I ran and tumbled hitting branches falling into hard objects I rolled and tried to get up every time. And then I heard their voices, laughter. These hunters are enjoying themselves. It brought ecstasy to them the thought of cornered prey. Blood and sweat mix in my face but that was the least of my worries

More shots. Chilling death is near.  Birds flew in sudden panic. I don’t know how far have I gone.  But I can hear their excited voices, as if knowing that the prize is within their grasp. But in their hands I know that a quick death is a blessing. They will not settle to that. Those fucking bastards!

In a minute or two, they will be at me. Where can I hide? I want to shout but I mustn’t.

Here another shot. My pulse is thundering against my eardrums and my heart is hammering against my chest so hard that it hurt.

Chapter 1  The Streets

She was standing in a crowd by the pedestrian lane. Her eyes are always attentive. She noticed a woman in a fine looking jacket, her hands are close to her chest as if worried that the diamond ring on her finger might drop.  The woman in  a rich get-up  glanced at her sideways, frowned at her, wrinkled her nose and step away farther from her.

Chill now, Meghan, a voice in her head warned her as anger tried to overcome her. Irritated she looked at the woman up and down, her heels are high . she let go of a devious smile flashed at her. One hard kick and she will topple over. Or I will kick and send you flying at a speeding car. The thought is tempting.

She turned her glanced at the woman’s face . the makeup, meticulous haircut. Her expression dismissive and insensitive. Yes, Meghan knew her type. They are all the same. High and almighty. Arrogant, snob women who only mingled with people on the same social status.  She could be a  daughter of wealthy family or a trophy wife of an egoistic husband.  Women who loves to ride their high horses but empty inside. She detested them.

She would have shoved the woman to the streets if not in the corner of her eyes she noticed that people are looking wary at her. She dismissed the idea and walked away.

She raised her sleeve to her face and  took a deep breath. Her clothes stank hellish.  She kept  walking sure where she is going. There should be some new piles now. Dragging along with her an old suitcase. There should also be some throwaway luggage where I can put some clothes.

She will be moving again. But first she needs  to get supply.

This is how she was living her life for the past fifteen years. 

She collected used clothes, learned to steal. Learn to be invisible.  She has to learn the streets  and live in the streets. She is no different from those homeless. But better this way. For now she has to go away again but she will be back.

 She went to the public bath after collecting some clothes. She is now refreshed and looking as a normal person.

As she was passing by a crowded commercial complex  a newspaper stand on the side has displayed the paper’s headlines. She had seen it almost every corner of the city.

She was filled with disgust that she wanted to spit on every paper where his face is pictured.

the photo is captioned:  RAYMOND SANDERS, eligible bachelor and CEO of Sanders  State Development Corporation,  now nominated to run for mayor of New York city.

She is trembling with inexplicable anger. Easy now, Meghan, a tiny voice inside her head said. She hated Raymund Sanders along with his so-called brothers, Oliver and Lucas. But they will soon get what they deserve. She was laughing mindlessly. I am still here, you idiots,  just right under your noses!. Her mind is in uncontrollable fury.

“Someday, Meghan, be patient. Time will come. Sssshhh.be good girl now,” again the tiny voice in her head whispered.

She composed herself and headed to the train station.

Before going into the subway she spotted the most familiar face across the street. A beggar in his 60’s. she stopped for a moment deciding if should she approach the man or not. But decided not to. Maybe I will see you next time. I need to disappear for now. She could say that ,that man is the only person on earth she can trust. And he as well is the only person who know her and about her circumstances. He is basically the one who guided her through tough times in the streets. She believes that he witnessed more secrets than her.

It is the rush hour ,a perfect time for Meghan to travel. She can easily get swallowed by the crowed of people rushing to get home. People are at their speedy paces catching the bus or train. No one seem to notice her. Everyone are thinking only of themselves. Checking their wristwatches, predicting the arrivals of their transportation. Thinking what time they could reach home. ‘Home, yes home, when was the last time you ever been in a home Meghan? Or do you have a home. Do you have anyone ? no. it’s just me, right. Just us. The two of us.’

The voice in her head is always convincing. She owed to that voice that she is still alive. She is the only one that makes her strong .

I will always be with you, Meghan.  It said reassuringly. I will protect you.

The streets of New York is not something you can joke about. Even the homeless are protective of their territory. You can not survive if you are weak. She had encountered hurdles but survived them. At the beginning he tried to succumb but eventually fight back. They would bully you if you even showed the slightest of weakness. Never get emotional around this people. If you want to survive ,never pity yourself. Save your neck.  

Living on the streets means being witness to all kinds of crimes. Stinking blood are at corners you hide. You see there faces, you know who did this and that but one should shun away his conscience if you value your life.

I myself had petty crimes but only for the reason of knowing how to survive. Stealing, even being a courier to drug pusher, and other sorts. I learned to pretend and disguise. Being with people I should have not with. But I have no regrets.

She boarded the train bound southward. She will be meeting someone for a certain purchase. She felt excitement, she felt alive. Finally! sooner or later she will execute her plans. The time of running and hiding is at end. She must not fail. This time she will get them. This time she will be the hunter, and they the hunted.

They will pay!