Chapter Two: The Encounter
Seven years before the events of Dark Angels and Demons
I was fifteen, I'd been living off the streets of London for slightly over six month, I'd left home after an argument with my parents and had traveled from Dublin. My extended family hadn't wanted me around.
It was a cold night in September, it wasn't raining but pouring. It's always almost raining around that time of the year. I was sitting by the Thames, not far from the Waterloo bridge. I was sitting there, a cinder block in hand contemplating my options; I couldn't go back home. I didn't have any money to leave the city... The only option I saw anymore was to end it all.
I remember tying the block to my leg with shoe laces when a guy walked closer and sat down next to me.
"Care to help a guy who's gotten lost?" He asked with an american accent. I glowered at him. "Not even for a twenty pound bill?" He asked, taking out the money from the over sized trench coat he was wearing. The sight of the money made my stomach growl, reminding me I hadn't eaten since the day before...
"Can you show me the way to Charing Cross?" He asked. I tried to snatch the bill but he pulled his hand away. "When we get there."
"Alright, mate..." I grumbled, tossing the block in the water and getting to my feet. I started walking toward the place, which wasn't very far and I was starved.
"Actually, want to make an extra twenty?" He offered, I was about to say something, expecting him to have something dirty in mind when he continued; "Nothing bad, Just tell me a story, yours. How did you end up here?"
I raised an eyebrow at the request, but I figured he want trying to get me to cheer up so I wouldn't off myself.
"Alright, Well a few months ago, I was with my folks but we got into an argument and they threw me out. I came here to find the rest of my family, they blew me off." I explained, keeping the details to a minimum.
"And what was it that started the fight?"
I kept silent for a while before deciding to just tell, it wasn't like I was ever going to see the bloke ever again.
"Alright..." I sighed. "I came out to my parents, that was six months ago. They didn't take it well, My father was yelling, cursing, throwing things against the walls and telling that he wouldn't have a 'faggot' for a son. My mother just sat at the table crying. I don't think I would've been able to stay strong and not break down if Liam hadn't been holding my hand..."
"So you decided to run here?"
I nodded. "I though someone would help, but now I'm stuck without a place to go, without any money and I've just been walking those streets for half a year... Hey, here we are." I said, pointing to the station. "That'll be forty." I said, grinning. Speaking about everything felt good.
He searched his pockets and gave me the money. He then removed his coat and set it around my shoulder. "You know what, why don't you keep that, you need it more than I do." He declared.
He was right, I didn't have a proper coat, only a now rather dirty hoodie which was now soaked making the weather even colder.
"I'll be seeing you." He said. I turned around to see where he was going but he wasn't there. He just vanished into thin air.
"What in the hell?"