Thanks guys you have inspired me to have a go at writing a story. I'm an Aussie btw and may have a lot of the American words and terms a bit mixed up (sorry)
Plus I know I haven't got to the raunchy part yet and I know I haven't used physical description yet ... I wanted to save that up for later.
Does it work ... I have no idea that is up to you guys
* * * * * *
Alex woke up feeling great. Today was his eighteenth birthday and despite no one else celebrating that fact he was ecstatic. He gathered his few precious belongings then side stepped his passed out, drunken and derelict father and walked out of the dingy, unhappy place some would have called his home and into brilliant sunshine on a warm summer’s day. He was glad to be leaving. The Greyhound bus depot was a couple of blocks away and he was getting on the first available bus going anywhere … the further away the better. No one could make him come back this time.
He strode with great intent up to the ticketing counter and pointed towards people starting to board a bus. “Is this bus leaving soon?” he asked. The huge lady behind the desk nodded. Alex then took some money from his pocket and asked, “How far will this get me?” She looked at the couple of notes and small pile of coins and gave him the name of a couple of towns he could afford to get to. “That will do me,” he replied and gratefully purchased his ticket.
* * * * * *
The bus ground to a stop depositing just the one passenger … Alex! By now it was very late afternoon as he stood and took a look at the town around him. This was practically picture postcard stuff and very unlike anything he had ever seen except from books. His growling belly told him exactly what he had to do next so he entered the bus depot and put some coins into a couple of vending machines and bought some Pringles and a Coke. He got some directions from an old guy and found his way to a cheap motel where he collapsed on the musty mattress and fell asleep smiling and well pleased with himself.
Next morning he worked his way along the main street searching for a job eventually finding one as a kitchen hand in a small diner down near the railway tracks a mile or so from the nicer part of town. At least he wouldn’t go hungry and not only that ... there was a room, not far away down an alley, he could have for next to nothing primarily because no self respecting person would ever want to live in such a dark stinking hole. Alex didn’t think that way he was just relieved to find food and shelter. He knew he’d be OK from now on.
Dulcie the aging matron who owned and operated the diner guessed how bad he needed the job. This kid had to be down on his luck and surely not any more than a teenager. So what if he only lasted a week! From his oversized clothing and worn down shoes to his gaunt hollow cheeks he reeked of neglect but nothing Dulcie couldn’t handle and her instinct told her he’d be no trouble. On that point she was right.
* * * * * *
Three weeks later and on the other side of town Paul Marten prepared for a night out on the town. He heard a car’s horn and looked out his second floor bedroom window to see his friend’s chevy in the drive and a couple of youthful faces laughing and craning their necks through the car windows. A quick wave and soon he was running down the stairs across the manicured lawn and tidy flower beds and jumping into the back seat.
The party was held in a warehouse in the industrial part of town and was in full swing when they arrived. Paul wasted no time getting into the mood. The music was loud the grog plentiful and the privileged kids hedonistic as they indulged themselves with whatever pleasures were on offer.
Nobody knew what time the cops came but it had little effect on the party till some crazy kid lit up a joint in the copper’s face and back up was called. Wailing sirens screeched through the air and a stampede of the town’s elite youth surged from the building in every direction, each one anxious not to be the one caught up in the inevitable mess. Paul was jostled and ran with the crowd laughing through his mix of heady excitement and way too much alcohol. He kept running till he had no idea where he was and leaned against a wall in some dark alley where he retched sending splashes of vomit over his fancy boots and designer label jeans.
“Lookee what we have here guys … looks like one of those rich boys out on his own” he heard.
Paul stood up unsteadily and turned around just in time to see a fist hit him full on the face. He tasted the blood in his mouth as he crumpled to the ground barely conscious and curled up as the kicks rained down on him.
He barely understood what was happening in the dark alley but he knew someone had scared off his assailants, come to his rescue, and was checking his limbs for any broken bones. He was hoisted up and leaned heavily on whoever it was towards a dim light and open doorway then onto a clean sheet on an old mattress. “Take it easy buddy … there’s nothing broken … you’ll be OK,” were the only words he heard before he succumbed to the extreme tiredness he suddenly felt.
Paul woke as his rescuer’s hand gently shook his shoulder …. “I’ve called you a cab, buddy,” was all he heard. He allowed himself to be half carried back down the alley to the waiting cab and gently positioned into the back seat.
Snippets of conversation made their way to his ear. “Take him home thanks … here’s the address from his licence …. this is to cover the fare”
Paul swivelled his head despite the pain to see his rescuer who had turned side on and had a baseball cap low down on his head. It was enough to see it was just a kid no older than himself.
His parents were waiting anxiously in the drive as the cab coasted to a stop. They made a huge fuss and got him inside as quickly as possible and into a comfy lounge chair. The family doctor had already been rung and was waiting to appraise his patient.
“It’s just severe bruising,” the doctor told his parents. “He’ll be sore for a while, just let him get some sleep and maybe some Tylenol for the pain,” as they ushered him out the front door.
“Oh ,Paul we were so worried,” sobbed his mother. “When we took that call it scared the daylights out of us.”