The street kid

"Pretty quick to trust a guy like him," Axel commented, looking at the other urchin from the corner of his eye. "Then again, to trust a pretty face had always gotten someone killed." He paused for a moment and gave her a wry smile. "Should I fear for my life?"

There was a moment when a cool breeze sifted through the house and the already dying flame flickered and died completely. Moving quickly, both on his self-protective instinct and courtesy, he rummaged through the soaked cargoes and pulled out his lighter, igniting the wick. He closed the small silver item with a soft click, his hand and the lighter disappearing beneath the dark confines of the blanket.
 
Hiita glance back at the house behind her as the small light went out, red lines down her cheek from crying. She quickly spoke to herself. "Is someone in there?"
 
Red could have died laughing. She was the last person to harm someone. She could barely muster up the courage to kill a fly much less a person. Red blushed a little before saying, "I wouldn't say that i trust him just yet. Hunger drives a person to do things they wouldn't do normally. And no i'm the last person that you should be fearing." When the breeze blew the light out Red's breath caught in her throat. She could feel panic quickly starting to take over and try as might she couldn't shake it. She didn't even notice when the boy lit the candle again.
 
Michael walked alone through the dark lowtown streets. They sky was darkening and he could smell the rain coming through the other unsavory smells coming from various alleyways and dark corners. "Not more rain.." he sighed. He had just gotten over a cold.

Michael had been a street kid for a few years now. It wasn't easy. He had only survived by joining in with one of the gangs in the city. After a few fights he earned the name Kicker. After about a year or so, The gang life had started to take its toll on Kicker. He managed to slip away from the gang life but being just another street kid wasn't any easier. A few jagged scars ran up his left arm and his legs but they were covered with a dirty flannel shirt and a worn out pair of jeans. All he had to his name was a bookbag full of old clothes a pack of cigarettes, and an old dirty guitar.

The first few drops of rain had started to fall when Kicker spotted an old brown house with a porch out front. The alley next to it was dark and cold but the house shielded it from the rain. Kicker walked down it and leaned against a rusted dumpster. "Its no Taj Mahal but at least Ill be dry." As the rain and wind picked up, Kicker lit a cigarette and picked up his guitar. He plucked the strings one at a time to make sure it was in tune before he started to play. It was a slow and haunting tune that reminded Kicker of better times when the city wasn't in such bad shape. He watched a window in the house as a candle went out and was re-lit. "I hope they dont tell me to leave.. I dont think I can handle getting sick again from all this rain." As the thought fled his mind, Kicker went back to playing his guitar softly in the alleyway.
 
Axel felt the change in the atmosphere and the way the girl had tensed, it confirmed his suspicions.

"Hey," he called out softly. "Are you alright?"

At the same moment, he heard music outside. Was that the cause of her panic? Curious, he draped the blanket over her and walked over to the window, wet hair now sticking to his scarred back. From one broad shoulder to the opposite hipbone was a large gash. It was what he got trying to protect an old friend of his who didn't live much longer after that particular situation. Around the raised skin was a number of scrapes sprinkled around it.

He opened the window, shivering a bit as the cool night air hit his still-damp skin. The sound of the rain intensified, and he ducked out. There was another person under the sill, smoking and playing the guitar. Axel homed in on the cigarette, almost salivating for one.

"It'd be a shame to let those cigs go to waste," he said, tearing his eyes away from the cancer stick and looking directly at the guy sitting down with an old guitar. The word 'mariachi' came to him instantly and he smirked some.
 
Hiita took in a deep breath and slowly stood, turning and walking down the street. She hugged herself tightly, her red hair matted against her back and face. She took in deep breaths. "I'm gonna get sick from this..." She sneezed, sniffling a bit. "Maybe I should just go home now..."
 
Kicker started and looked up at the boy staring down at him from a window in the brown house. He took another drag from his cigarette and held up the pack.

"Want one?" he said before he began to play again, louder this time as he wasn't worried about being noticed anymore. The notes echoed off of the walls and drifted out into the street like the smoke he exhaled.

"I got about half a pack left. If this rain keeps up it'll kill me before these things do." he said with a grin.
 
"Then get your ass in here," Axel said, foregoing manners altogether, grin widening. "I need me one of those somethin' terrible. Come around to the front door."
 
Kicker's heart jumped in his chest. "Finally somewhere dry!" he exclaimed with a smile. He picked up his bag and guitar before running through the rain and into the house.

Once inside, Kicker pulled a dry shirt from his bag to dry off himself and the guitar. He pulled a smoke from the pack and held it out to the boy who invited him in. He held out his hand to greet him. "Thanks man. I thought I was done for out there. Im Michael but you can call me Kicker or just Kick if you want."

He looked around the dark candlelit house. His eyes began to adjust but he could still barely see. "Is it just you here?"
 
Red mechanically pulled the blanket closer to her. She saw flashes of her past quickly racing across her vision. Red shook her head trying to rmove those thoughts. Just relax she told herself. She focused her gaze on the candle light trying to snap herself out of it. Finally when someone else walked in had she regained her composure.
 
Axel took the cigarette, replacing it with his free hand to greet the other guy.

"Mikey works," he agreed heartily, completely ignoring the other's street name. He'd popped the cancer stick into his mouth and quickly lit it with the lighter he hadn't put down since relighting the candle. He breathed in and nearly sagged with relief and contentment. "You've just saved a little piece of my sanity, man."

He looked around, spotting the girl who'd seemed to be alright now that she saw who had walked in.

"Ah, no. This little lady let me in." The bowl of stew came to mind and his face lit up. "You got any more stew for my savior here?"

It was a slight change in attitude, but he'd just gotten a smoke! This guy deserved food.
 
"Oh yes! I'll be go get him some." Red stood up and left the blanket on the couch. After getting a bowl of stew and a spoon, she picked up about three more candles and a lighter that she found on the kitchen table. Red walked back out and handed the bowl to the other stranger. "Here you go. Sorry it's cold. But better that than nothing."
 
Kicker's eyes lit up. He hadn't had a real meal in days. "Hot, cold, whatever. I'll take it!" He took the bowl and spoon from the girl and procceded to chow down. He was so hungry that he didnt even sit down to eat. He just wolfed it down where he stood. After a few minutes, Kicker had finished the stew and licked the bowl clean.

"Thats the stuff.." Kicker sighed. He took the bowl and spoon and set them in the sink before walking to the window to light another smoke. "Thanks a lot," he said to the girl with a smile. He looked around before asking, "So what are you guys doing here? This place looked abandoned when I walked into the alley." Kicker sat down by the window and picked up his guitar. He picked at it softly filling the room with a pleasant tune.
 
"A guy named Knight owns this house and he takes in street kids. He offered me food and shelter which was hard to resist. I think he leaves it looking this way to not draw attention." she said looking around the room as well. Red started humming along to the tune that he played on his guitar. I should really learn their names she thought to herself.
 
"The cops were a nag," Axel breathed, grunting as he sat on the floor and proceeded to lay flat on his back, just to enjoy a good, dry, smoke. Quitting be damned at that point in time. "I had my eye on this place and Miss Lady here invited me in. Oh," he added, a bit chagrined. "My manners are the worst today. I'm Axel. But you can call me Axel." He grinned lopsidedly, quite pleased with himself.
 
"My name is Red by the way. What's yours?" she asked the mysterious guitar player. She had already overheard the other guy call himself Mikey.
 
Kicker looked up from his guitar without stopping. "How old is this Knight guy? And where is he at?"

He took his cigarette butt and threw it out into the rain. "And when do I get to thank him for the food and roof?"
 
"He looks about seventeen to me. Right now he's out helping Snow bandage her friends. Apparently one of them was shot or something close to it. So i'm not sure when he will be back." she said coughing. The smoke from ths cigs was starting to get to her. Red walked over to one of the windows and opened it up.
 
Kicker looked at Red apologetically. "Sorry Red. I'll smoke em outside from now on." He didn't want to annoy the girl that gave him food.

"Im Kicker by the way, or just Kick for short." He stopped playing stood up. "How many people are here?"
 
"I'm not sure. I haven't seen anyone here besides us three, Knight, and Snow. I'm pretty sure her friends will be coming back with her so that makes about seven of us." Red said turning around to answer Kick.
 
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