Page 6 of Breaking Boston

I smile, the rain continuing to soak my body, hoping whoever is watching me can see it.

Maybe it's just paranoia, but I can't shake the feeling, and to be honest, a small part of me doesn't want to shake it.

I quicken my pace, eager to reach the shelter of my home even though it's my hell too. The sound of footsteps behind megrows louder, and I can feel my heart start to race.But there's no one there.

I finally reach the front door and fumble for my keys, the rain making it even more difficult to find the right one. But I find it, stick it in the lock, and rush into the house, shutting the door behind me with a light thud.

Everything is dark when I turn around, the hint of light outside filtering in the windows, guiding my way toward the kitchen. I put Bobby's alcohol in the fridge and bolt to my room, wanting to shed my wet clothes before Bobby decides to walk in on me.

This isn't how I wanted to live my life. Being controlled by fear was never part of the plan. But fear is all I've known, especially the time I've been living with Bobby and Debbie.

I change quickly, heading for my window seat when I'm dry again. But I stop in my tracks when I notice something glistening on the window ledge, a lump forming in my throat.What the fuck now?

I fumble with the bracelet on my wrist—the one decorated with an assortment of charms that truthfully, I'm not sure what they mean; a sparrow, a black rose, a broken heart... I don't know who leaves them, but every time I find one left for me, I add it to the bracelet around my wrist—that was also left for me.

Stepping closer, I notice a dove charm on the ledge this time, glistening from the outside light hitting it; it's gorgeous. Without giving it another thought, I grab the charm and attach it to my bracelet, admiring it as I lower myself to the seat.

As I sit here, my mind races with questions. Who is leaving these charms for me? And why? The feeling of being watched comes back even stronger, and I can't shake it off. What if they're watching me right now? Did they watch me change? Do I know them? Countless questions flood my mind, making my head hurt.

I glance at the bracelet on my wrist, now adorned with the new charm. It's a beautiful gesture, but it only serves to fuel my anxiety. I need to find out who's behind this. But for now, I'm stuck in this situation, with no way out.

"Hey, brat, did you grab my shit?" Bobby yells from the other side of my door, jolting me back to reality and out of the fog clouding my head.

"Yeah, it's in the fridge, Bobby," I mutter back, watching the rain come down in buckets out my window.

He doesn't say anything back, and he doesn't try to enter my room, so I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing for now I'm safe from his vile acts.

My phone pings from an incoming text, making my heart race as I think about who it could be. I have no friends, just people I get high with and people I buy drugs from; I don't put myself out there.

When I check it, it's an unfamiliar number, and my shoulders sag slightly in disappointment.

17 days…

I smile, knowing it's Lux or Donovan reaching out.

Yeah, 17 days and I'm free…

We want you with us, Pretty Girl.

I can't… I'm going to find my parents.

After I send that, I don't get a message back, and deep down, it feels like my heart is shattering into a million pieces all over again.

Although part of me wants to be with Donovan and Lux again, I know that finding my birth parents is something I need to do. I've spent my entire life feeling incomplete, and now it's finally the time to find out the truth about where I came from.

As I lie in bed, my mind is racing with thoughts of the unknown and the potential possibilities that come with finding my true identity.

Lostin the dark chaos that consumes my mind every night, I'm jolted awake by a loud crack of thunder, feeling like I'm being watched.

Sitting up in bed, I rub the sleep from my eyes and look around, not seeing anyone or anything out of place.

It's just your imagination... I tell myself, lighting a cigarette and watching the smoke swirl out of my open bedroom window.

As the smoke goes to my head and makes me dizzy, the dope sickness that's beginning to overtake my body becomes more and more evident.

I shake uncontrollably, seizure-like movements wracking my body.

Hot flashes are followed by cold sweats, and my teeth chatter hard as I shiver.

---