On thy name

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On thy name

Post by Banshee on Sun Dec 04, 2011 6:33 am

Nameless's book...this is just a rough draft...and the results of me in economics class and nightmorning


The boy skittered through the crowd, dodging past various limbs and elbows, arms and legs, and the like. That was the only problem about being small; it was easy to get ran over but it had its advantages. He snuck behind a tall, middle-aged man and carefully and slowly, slipped his small, dirty hand into the man’s pocket and tried to take the wallet out. The boy had gotten it down to a science even though he hated it, thievery was necessary to live. Before the boy had even finished pulling it out, the man whipped around.

“Thief!” He bellowed, trying to grab the small boy, who quickly dodged the attack and dashed away. His footsteps echoing on the pavement as he tried to push his way through the crowd. Panic arose in the young boy and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears like a drum. He looked back, his green eyes flitting around for the man, who was trying to shove his way through the sea of people to get to him. The boy ran close to the ground, trying not to trip over people’s bags and feet. He could hear the man growing closer, he couldn’t get caught. Getting caught meant bad things for the boy; he slipped into an ally and pressed his back against the hard, red brick wall. Shaking slightly and trying to slow his breathing, he clutched the wallet to his chest as the sound of heavy foot falls ran past and the cries of “thief” died away. He was safe, for now at least. After pocketing the wallet in his red, ragged sweatshirt, he slipped to the other end of the dark alley and began to make his way home. This boy is Nameless and he is a very special boy, this is where our story begins.

Chapter One

“Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that at this moment, all you have is all you need.”
~ Sarah Ban Breathnach

Nameless pushed past the rotting planks, sneaking into the abandon apartment. The pitch dark of the small entry way blinding him as he fumbled around for the small flash light he had in his sweatshirt pocket. Pushing the small button that turned it on with his thumb, the stair way lit up. Blinking to allow his eyes adjust to the light, he made his way up the old wooden stairs trying to be as quiet as possible. The apartment was still near people and if people were to hear noises, they’d grow suspicious. He’d only be here for a few more days but still the less of a chance he took, the better. He slowly pushed open the door as not to let it creak and ducked inside, checking behind him out of habit to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Nameless breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door; it had been a close shave back there.

He made his way into the small apartment. It was a tiny apartment, with one bed room, a living room attached to an old kitchen, and a bathroom. There was no running water, not that Nameless would dare try to run it. The place not only looked like it had been abandoned for years but pipes made noise, and noises drawled attention which was the last thing he wanted. The kitchen was useless, no fridge or anything not counting the fact that even if there was it wouldn’t work but for now this was home. Nameless liked old houses, they offered a sense of security and each had its own tale. He sometimes liked to imagine that the walls would whisper stories to him, stories that only he could hear and leaving each one made him feel like he was leaving an old friend. Plopping down by his duffel bag and onto the makeshift bed made out of various pillows and sheets, he took out the leather wallet and ran his small, rough fingers along the cover. Stealing made him feel guilty and he tried to get rid of anything he didn’t need as not to leave evidence and take more from the person. [to be continued]

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