Through The Fractured Lens

Lucian

I mumbled a curse as I nearly dropped some of the fruit I had gotten before quickly shoving it back down into the backpack. As I was walking down the sidewalk, I heard the police sirens, so I started to pick up the pace.

If I get caught, what would they do to me? I wondered. Not worried as much about the police offices, but moreover my foster parents. 

I ran down the side of the street, rushing through the crowds of people at the market, trying to blend in. Despite my best efforts, it seems I was spotted. It's time to run, I told myself.

I quickly made sure everything I had gotten was secure, as I couldn't afford to lose any of it this time around. I shuffled through the backpack, admiring the goodies I had picked up.

A few pieces of fruit, including an apple, banana, amongst other things. I also was able to get a chocolate bar and some soda, which I was quite excited for myself.

There was no time to waste. I sprinted out of the market as the police gave chase. I crossed streets, alleys and other areas of the crowded markets. Finally, I reached an alley that I actually recognize, one that I had used in my past getaway experiences.

I quickly turned into the alley, with the police officer still close behind. I threw my backpack over the chain link fence, as I jumped up onto the closed dumpster and onto the chain link fence, where I then was able to pull myself over.

The police officer came to a grinding halt at the fence, watching as I was able to sneak by. I had gotten away, but I wasn't sure how long before they find me again. After all, this was getting to be quite the regular occurrence.

It's been a few years since I was placed in that foster home when I was 7. I am now 14 years old, although I don't think much people really know that. My birthday was yesterday, and my foster parents didn't seem to care all that much. Veyra did, however, who had given me the next edition to the book series I've been reading. 

I really did appreciate her, and I was glad that she was my friend.

She had been feeling quite down recently, so I decided to get a few extra fruits to give to her. I knew she would enjoy them, and no trouble was great enough to see her smile.

After all, there isn't really much to smile about these days.

As I walked down the empty streets of the neighborhood, a homeless man shook his cup. I had passed by him quite a few times. "Got anything to spare, young man?"

I reached in my backpack and tossed him a fruit. "No money, but I hope that helps."

The homeless man instantly took a bite out of the apple I had thrown him. His eyes widened at the crunch, obviously trying to indicate to me that he was grateful for the fruit.

As he took a second to his breath, he finally looked back at me. "Very much so, young man."

"I'll be on my way now, you take care." I replied, as I continued my journey back to where I live.

I never called it home. I wanted to, of course. However, there was just no way I could. It wasn't home, and it never will be. As I approached the house I very much reluctantly chose to call my current residence, I slowed my pace. The adrenaline from the chase had worn off, leaving me with a familiar emptiness.

I glanced at the overgrown lawn and peeling paint, wondering for the thousandth time what it would be like to truly have a real home. A place I felt safe, and eager to come back to every day.

I crept around to the back, avoiding any window in sight. I hoped to avoid my foster parents to the best of my ability. Ever all, the last thing I needed was another "lecture" about my "delinquent behavior." I pulled up my shirt, inspecting all the previous bruises and scars that I had been given by them ruthlessly beating me over the years.

I was also getting quite skinny, obviously malnourished. However my focus wasn't on me, it was on Veyra. She has had it worse than I have, and I want to make sure she's fed before I am.

Climbing through my bedroom window, I landed softly on the worn carpet. The room was sparse—a bed, a desk, and a small bookshelf. But it was mine, for now at least.

I unzipped my backpack and carefully arranged everything I had gotten out on to my desk. The fruits looked even more vibrant against the faded wood.

I set aside the best pieces for Veyra, imagining the spark of joy in her gray-green eyes when I'd give them to her later. I tucked away the soda in a loose floorboard under my bed—my secret stash for the really bad days.

I was exhausted. I slumped down onto my bed, unwrapping the chocolate bar I had gotten. I took a bite, and was amazed. The rich, sweet taste flooded my senses, a rare moment of pleasure. I savored each bite, letting the chocolate melt slowly on my tongue.

It was a small luxury, yes, but one that reminded me there were still good things in this world.

As I finished the last morsel, I took a second to rest my eyes. I wonder where I'd be if my Uncle Orin hadn't passed. Would I still be living with him? But, would I have ever met Veyra? I asked myself.

I shot back up, remembering the colorful fruits I had set aside to give to Veyra. It was getting a bit late, so she must've been hungry. After all, she hadn't had any dinner in a few days.

I grabbed some of the fruit I had set aside, and rushed out into the hallway.

While still exhausted, I knew I would be overjoyed by her reaction. She would love these fruits, she always does. Times can be tough, but enjoying a moment with her will make it all better.

The hallway was strangely quiet. Usually you'd hear a faint humming coming from her room, usually meaning she's drawing or just relaxing. But it was silent, the only noise being the slow creak of the floorboards as I took the next step.

She must be sleeping, I told myself. After all, she hadn't slept the past these past few days.

I finally made it to her door, and gave it a good knock. "Veyra! I got some delicious fruits I wanted to give you!" I called out. There was no response. A bit of fear swelled up inside of me, but I brushed it off. She must've fallen asleep, so I knocked again. Still, no answer.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't contain the fear. I swung open the door.

Everything was silent. The only noise came seconds later as the fruit that I was previously holding tumbled to the floor, almost in slow motion, as my eyes widened.

Veyra had killed herself.

I stood there for what felt like eternity, unable to move, as I watched her lifeless body hang, shoved around by the breeze being pushed in from her open window. It felt like my world had flipped upside down in a matter of seconds.

My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed to the floor, the fruit rolling away forgotten. The room spun as my mind struggled to process what I was seeing. This couldn't be real. It had to be a nightmare.

But the gentle swaying of Veyra's body was undeniable. The rope around her neck. The stillness that was unsettling.

I scrambled to my feet, rushing to her, still at a loss for words. My hands shook violently as I tried to lift her, to loosen the rope. But she was already cold to the touch.

Tears blurred my vision as I fumbled with the knot. "Veyra, please," I begged. "Please wake up. Don't leave me here alone."

The gray-green eyes, once full of life, was dull, just like the world around me.

I screamed in agony. My scream echoed through the empty house, as I clutched Veyra's lifeless body. I began to sob uncontrollably, as the world around me seemed to fade away, leaving only this moment of unbearable pain.

Eventually, my sobs quieted to a dull ache in my chest, as I felt a hand on my back. It was one of my foster parents. The husband.

I still never knew his name. They forced us to call them "sir" and "ma'am" and address them formally.

The man stood, still as a statue, processing the events, with a hint of shock, but also anger over his face. His emotions confused me, but I didn't have time to care about anything so unimportant in this moment.

The man finally spoke. "What happened here.. what did you do?"

"She had a life, you know." he growled.

No matter how hard I try to talk to him, I couldn't even form a proper sentence. He wouldn't listen to me, and would blame me for everything that has happened.

As the police arrived, they took me away, dragging me away from Veyra's body as I was still sobbing uncontrollably.

The next few hours passed in a blur. I was taken to the police station, my hands cuffed behind my back, still numb with shock. The fluorescent lights made everything seem weird, like I was trapped in some terrible dream I couldn't wake up from.

They put me in an interrogation room, where the cold metal chair was practically biting into my skin.

A detective finally entered, where he had a hint of worry over his face. He started asking questions, but I could barely hear him over the roaring in my ears. Veyra's lifeless eyes haunted me, accusing.

"Did you kill her?" The detective's voice finally cut through the fog.

"No," I whispered, my voice cracking. "She was my only friend."

He leaned forward, studying me intently. "Then why were you there? Why did your foster father say you did it?"

I looked up, meeting his gaze. "Because he's a liar," I spat, my grief overtaking me as anger filled my veins. "He and his wife have been abusing us for years. Veyra couldn't take it anymore."

The detective's expression shifted slightly, doubt crossing his face.

"That's a serious accusation, son. Do you have any proof?" he replied.

I hesitated, then slowly rolled up my sleeve, revealing the bruises and old scars that marked my skin. "Is this enough proof for you?" I asked bitterly.

"Or should I show you the marks on my back too?"

The detective's eyes widened, and he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Jesus," he muttered. He cleared his throat and continued more gently, "Why didn't you report this before?"

I let out a bitter laugh, wincing at the pain in my ribs.

"Report it? To who? The social workers never listen. And the last time I tried to tell someone…" I trailed off, memories flooding my mind.

The detective's face softened ever so slightly. "I'm sorry, kid. We'll look into this, I promise."

But I knew better than to blindly hope and cower behind these detectives for protection. How many times had I heard these empty promises before?

"Can I see her?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

The detective hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

Hours went by in a blink, as I stood in the cold room of the morgue. Veyra was laying on the metal table, a sheet covering most of her body. She looked so small, so fragile, I couldn't help myself, and began to break out into tears once again.

I approached the table slowly, my legs trembling beneath me. Every step I took felt heavy, and I was flashing between different moments in the years we had spent together. She looked peaceful, almost as if she were sleeping, but the dark bruises painting her neck told a different story.

For a moment, I was lost in the memories that I now was burdened to carry. However much I wanted to relive them, I forcefully snapped myself back to the present.

The only good thing in this cruel, miserable world, was laying right in front of me. Cold, and lifeless. Suddenly, my body burned with anger. At the world, at everything. But more specifically..

The foster parents.

I clenched my fists, rage boiling up inside me. Those monsters. They had done this. Their cruelty, their neglect, their abuse—it had all led to this moment.

Veyra, my only friend, my lifeline, my tether in this hellish existence, was gone because of them.

I couldn't bare to speak, or even stay there for any longer. The world had failed us, had let us suffer for these years. But when would we ever get what we wanted?

I was escorted out of the police station not long after, the detective offering me a ride as the rain poured down hard, clanking against the roof. I declined politely, choosing to take the long walk back. I needed time, alone, to be in my own thoughts.

The rain soaked through my clothes as I dragged myself along the empty streets. My mind was a whirlwind of grief, anger, and a creeping sense of emptiness that threatened to swallow me whole.

I found myself wandering aimlessly, unable to face the thought of returning to that house. My feet carried me to the park where Veyra and I used to escape sometimes, seeking solace under the old oak tree.

I collapsed onto the wet grass, leaning against the rough bark. Memories flooded back—Veyra's quiet laughter as we shared jokes, the way her eyes lit up at even the smallest things.

"Why?" I whispered into the darkness. "Why did you leave me here alone?"

I looked around into the shadows. I had felt like someone was watching me, like they were engraved into the shadows themselves. However, there was nobody there, as I figured.

Dragging myself back home, I thought about how I would even approach the foster parents again. They weren't even deserving of being called that, just people. Disgusting people. Wherever life brought me, I knew I needed to at least get the locket back.

I'd still never opened it, still unable to bare what might be left inside. However, it was a must. I wont go anywhere without it, and I knew that, even if I didn't want to step foot in that house again.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle by time I reached the house. I stood across the street, staring at the dark windows, my heart pounding. The thought of going back inside made me feel physically ill.

I crept around to the back, avoiding the creaky steps of the porch. I slowly slid open my window, attempting to minimize any sound possible. An interaction was the last thing I'd want right now.

My room looked like a total mess, all my stuff seemed to be thrown into a tiny box on the bed with a torn piece of a paper taped to the side of it, with a message written on it.

The box contained the few stuff which I had, mostly being books, but also the locket that I was searching for.

I went up to it, inspecting what it could have said.

[ Take your business elsewhere, brat. ]

I clenched my fists tight, letting my nails dig deep into my skin.

Anger seeped through every part of my body as my memories with Veyra flash once again. I took a second to calm myself down, then stared out of the open door into the hallway, where it was clear the parents were talking to each other.

Anger covered my entire body once more. "These damned parents."

They will pay.

Maybe not today, or tomorrow...

But one day. They will.