Not Like The Others -1

I sat on the curb, my skin crawling from the cold wind blowing. I rubbed my hands together to try to create warmth. It was the end of September, and it's already getting pretty cold. The sky reminded me of velvet for some reason, dusted with clouds that were almost the same shade.
I guess this is my fault. I just had to open my mouth and get myself thrown out of my house. That's my problem. I can't keep my mouth shut. I speak my mind and I don't hold back. And I don't apologize for what I say most of the time. That's what gets me in trouble. It just so happened to take on a new level and leave me on the street. For how long? I don't know. Just for today, maybe. Maybe for a week, or maybe just for the hour. I don't know. My mom can be rough with these things. She's been getting really bitchy lately, always yelling at me and pushing me around. Most of the time she doesn't even come home till three in the morning, waving to a cab driver.
I guess you could say I live alone considering her habits.

My name is Frank. I think a lot, and my life has no path. I'm in tenth grade, always bored out of my mind, doing nothing till I'm tired and I can sleep.
I've always been an obnoxious kid, always asking why, coming up with snide comments and always having something to say.
Not much has changed.   

I shuddered, the wind blowing hard in my face to make my cheeks sting. I huddled closer to my sweat jacket. I live in a sort-of dangerous town in this tiny state. Sure it's dangerous but there's other parts where it's much worse.
I live in the suburbs. Belleville, to be exact. Sure, there's some small dangers you have to worry about, but that's about it. But if you go out of the small radius of this town, you're back with the drug dealers.
So as I'm sitting on the curb, I'm still a little worried- sitting outside at night in New Jersey. But I know if I was in Newark, I would already been snatched up or something.  I bowed my head, trying my best to make a ball to trap in body heat. I heard light footsteps and voices down the street. It made me uneasy. Partially that there's a group of people that could knife me, and partially that it's so damn quiet in this town that I could hear them.

I stumbled to my feet and started to make my way across the street and over. I hadn't strayed too far from home, but I figured I'd walk back. My bones were stiff from the cold, preventing me from moving swiftly and comfortably.
They were getting closer. But I didn't act on it, I just kept to myself, kept my eyes on the ground and kept moving.
But they saw me.
"Hey!" One called.
I didn't answer. I was the only one on the street besides them. I just hoped they were talking to some lady on her lawn. I balled my fists up subconsciously and kept moving across the sidewalk.
"Hey!" The same voice shouted.
Their voices and footsteps were getting more eminent. I smelled something. It reeked and it made me want to turn and gag. But I knew the smell. The smell of mixed drugs and alcohol. And a waft of something else… Something… Something that I can't exactly put my finger on. But it didn't mix with the other stenches.

They couldn't of saw me, I thought. It was dark and I'm wearing all black. I'm practically the darkness itself. By the sound of his voice, he was a little bit older. And yes, stoned, and would do anything to another human being. But when I heard excited voices calling after someone named Parker, I came to the conclusion that they were a gang. A group of some sort that would create mafia-esque crimes and kill me if they came close.

I'm watching too many movies.
Maybe I just think too much and my imagination creates these stories that would soon take over my life and change me to a multi-personality lunatic case.
I hope it's the movies.

A beefy hand caught my arm and tugged me, forcing me to stop, and turn to face him. My heart dropped a little bit. But I was smarter than that. I played it cool.
This man was ugly… As he grinned, his teeth were crooked and a little yellow. His eyes were a dark brown color, ringed red and watery. His hair was choppy and greasy. As I breathed, I caught that same scent again. It was him. Parker.
"C'mere guys!" Parker called to his cronies but was still facing me, grinning, his eyes wavering back and forth from spot to spot on my face.
I narrowed my eyes instinctively, my nose curling up in disgust as I pulled my arm back. I slid right out of his grasp and started my way down the path again.
"Yo Gerard, get a move on!" A man with a clearly deeper voice sang, patting someone who I assumed was Gerard on the shoulder.
I kept moving. The smell was getting worse. It made me want to scream, cry, and throw up all at the same time.
"Shut the fuck up, Cal." Someone muttered.
He didn't sound stoned like the others. If anything he sounded like he had a hangover and wanted to go home.
"YEAH CAL!" The last man of their group screamed, sounding like a gunshot in my sleep deprived ears.
"Barry!" The other three scolded simultaneously and I couldn't help but smirk a little.
"Hey big boy, let's fuck." A voice grumbled next to my ear.
I shuddered and grimaced. I wanted to turn, kick him in the balls and throw up. The smell was too thick and his voice was low and slurred.
But I knew better.
I kept walking.
"Don't listen to Parker, he's a douche." Cal said, his voice sounding like gravel as he touched my arm.
I jerked him off and kept moving, seeming to be going nowhere. I glanced to the street signs. I was on the corner of Rosewood and Satterfield.
Just one more street, I thought.
"Don't listen to them, all they care about is sex…" Barry slid his hands down my arms, his voice rough and needed to be cleared.
"Get the fuck off me." I elbowed him in the gut.
He doubled over, and I kept moving. I needed a shower. I can always climb the fence and haul myself up through the window leading to the bathroom…
"Ooh!" Parker sang, "boy's got an attitude." He got closer, his breath on my neck, "I like that…"
"I said, get the fuck off me." I turned, glaring up at him.
He smirked and stepped closer. I got to look at the other's. Barry was wearing baggy clothes and a shark tooth necklace. His hair was short, almost a buzz cut. Cal wore a chain necklace, black clothes and a gray beanie, his brown hair curling around the edges. Parker was wearing a gray hoodie and jeans with a studded belt.
The last one, the quiet one, Gerard, he stood there behind his friends, hands in his pockets. He wore baggy blue jeans, chucks, a black and red shirt. He kept his head down, his black hair stringing over his face. He's the only one that didn't bother me.
Parker stepped closer again.
"Parker, just stop." Gerard muttered, earning a glare from the leader.  
"Shut up, man, I know what I'm doing." He snapped.
Cal smacked Gerard upside the head, and I couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. I shrugged it off almost immediately and kept moving, crossing the street to mine.
"Hey, where you goin'!?" Barry chirped.
I kept on moving. Their voices were distant now, and stayed that way. As I neared closer to my house, I could see all the lights were out. I jumped the fence and onto my lawn.
"Hey." A soft voice said, hearting from behind me.
Normally I would ignore it and move on. But his voice was different. There was no low gravely sound or horrible stench.
I turned around. It was Gerard. I glanced to the end of the road to find the other three were still standing there, laughing and slapping each other.
"I'm sorry about them." He whispered.
I blinked and furrowed my eyebrows. "That's uh… that's okay."
I turned around again and moved towards the house. There was another fence that kept in my mom's long-gone, dead garden. I planted my toes on the wood and fingers on the edge. I hauled myself up quickly, squatting, my toes planted on each indent on the sharp points. I leaned over and pulled up the window and rolled back inside my home.
I've done it many times before to the point where it's just easy.
I glanced back out the window, and the boy was gone.