Fire and Water

Writing Games Group- story about a homeless child set near a polluted stream after a fight with someone finding something. Extention of character I've written previously.

This kind of thing has really got to stop. Don't know about any one else and I don't really care, but I'm getting sick of it. This time I didn't even provoke the fight! Wait, I suppose I should start this off at the beginning, like a proper young lady... though that phrase doesn't really fit one such as myself. I was born Samantha Thomas. Just call me Sam, as I don't answer to Samantha. My Crew, the other homeless kids I run with and who have sort of declared me their leader (a position I did not lobby for), call me Blaze. I have a temper and a fiery determination.

When my dad died, I was taken to live at an orphanage with a smattering of foster "homes", for lack of better word. I ran away from my first placement. I won't bore with the details of why. Suffice it to say that the "father" was less then paternal. I ran away and lived in the city for a while, a long while. The streets became my home, the buildings like the loving embrace of the mother I don't remember. The city became my city, for better or worse. It both protected me and tried to kill me. Well, the creatures that haunt the night within my city have tried to kill me. The city is large enough to shelter all kinds, unfortunately.

Among those kinds was a gang called the Black Dragons. Their leader was a guy named David Kwan, five years older then my sixteen years. He hated me because I kept getting in the way of his gang. Informing the cops of meetings or contracts I heard about, disrupting incoming shipments of cocaine, boosting his car... oh yeah. Kwan hated my guts. I'd managed to stay one or two steps ahead of him till now. I'd been cruising along the water's edge in the warehouse district when I heard a slight noise behind me. Foot steps. I faded into the shadows and disappeared as I had done a thousand times before. This time, Kwan wasn't going to have any of that. He was out for my blood and he insisted on having it tonight.

He and his crew reached where I was hiding and stood there, looking straight at me in the dark. There is that feeling one gets when they know things are not going to end well, when they feel that falling sensation in the pit of their gut. I had that feeling then. I felt suddenly as though this was it. I was going to die tonight. Kwan's men reached out to me and grabbed me from my hiding place, dragging me towards a warehouse I knew far too well. It was one of his "fronts" for his drug smuggling, bringing heroine and cocaine into the country. I tried to struggle, to get free because I knew there was no way I'd make it out again alive.

Kwan ordered one of his guys to "soften" me up. After a few minutes of beating, Kwan ordered his men to drop me. Now that I was free, I couldn't fight straight. I had a brown belt in karate from my sensei, but Kwan had better training and more of it. He came in fast and hard with a kick to my ribs. I blocked his strike, but walked right into a fist to my cheek. This night was not going to end well. Our battle was not evenly matched, he made sure of that. If he hadn't had me "softened up" first, I could have beat him back with pure tenacity alone. With that much of my steam gone, it was all I could do to keep my feet. Kwan's lips curled into a smile, one that didn't reach his black eyes. He struck me hard across the face, sending me for a harsh meeting with the wet concrete. He kicked me once or twice, causing me to curl into a fetal ball.

"Bring it!" he ordered, though I was too far out of it to care what was brought. "Pin her, don't let her move, or you'll be next!"

Five guys gathered from no where and held me to the floor. I didn't have the strength to move or to fight them off. A few vain twists was all I could manage. When I saw what Kwan had in store for me, I put up a bigger fight. He was walking my way holding a red hot branding iron. I'd heard of him doing this before, to mark his enemies. Though, the reports always said it was a postmortem injury. Here I was, pinned to the floor, with a hot iron walking my way. This was not a good night to be me.

"Kwan!" I shouted, more as a warning then a plea. I'd never beg someone like that.

"To always remember me by," he growled and pressed the hot metal into my right arm. I screamed till my throat was raw. Kwan backed off and the weight of five men was gone. I curled into a ball of pain and waited for Kwan to finish me off. Instead he gave the order to dump me in the river.

"It'll take days for them to find her," he growled.

The water was actually comforting for all of a minute. Pain finally took me and I fell gratefully into blackness.

                    *                    *                      *                  *

I awoke next to the river, nasty thing. The water here was polluted with oil slicks and trash swirling in the eddy. I'd managed to crawl onto the shore and was coughing up something. I hoped it was just water, but in the dark I couldn't make it out. Once ashore, I found a tree to lean against which meant I must have drifted as far as the park, a few miles down stream. The tree was an old oak with a wide girth, which was just perfect to lean against and regain some strength. In the moon's light, I tried to take stalk of the damage I'd survived.

Breathing was difficult, so a possible broken rib. Gingerly feeling the contours of my face, I found a few welts which would look severe come morning. My arm felt like it was burning still. The moon light revealed what I didn't want to see. A Chinese styled dragon weaving it's way up my arm. The same mark Kwan left on corpses. I was a walking dead woman, well teen. Anyway...

I couldn't stay here all night. I'd need to find some help and soon before I went into shock. I managed to get to my feet and to the road before the blackness over took me once more.

When I awoke again, I was clean, bandaged and dressed in a hospital gown. At the side of the bed was a woman I knew well. My social worker, Sharon. She smiled brightly at me, thanking God for keeping me safe all the months I'd lived on the streets.

"Oh, I'm so glad I finally found you!" She was saying. What she didn't realize then was how much I felt like a lost soul.

Author's Note

First attempt at a story using a few bits for inspiration. Not sure how I like it. The character I used is one from a novel I have not published here.

Reviews

[Winter McPherson]

A very good first try! Made for a very interesting character. Very strong female role. I like that. And you made the dark, ugly city come to life. Good job!