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01 Stolen Dreams

  The winter air stabbed me through my clothes as I watched my favorite neon-lit hunting ground. A sea of people shuffled their feet as they walked past the park bench I sat on. Their eyes were glued to the tiny, light-emitting boxes, known as cell phones, which consumed their attention. Oblivious to my existence, they walked, possessed, as captivating streams of images danced before their eyes.

  They don’t know how good they have it. Everything they want to know and see is at their fingertips. A warm home to return to. Never having to worry about finding enough money to eat for the week. The world is their oyster, and I’m just a discarded rock nobody pays attention to.

  I eyed a particularly obnoxious girl with honey-blonde hair. She talked with someone on speakerphone while scrolling through some images on her phone. I couldn’t understand what she was talking about. The constant stream of pop culture jargon didn’t even sound like complete sentences. And it was all made worse by how high and squeaky her voice was.

  I stood up from the bench that I had been watching the crowds from. She’ll make a perfect target for tonight. It looks like she’s got the latest model, too.

  I pulled my hoodie tighter around my face and walked in front of Blondie. The crisp night air of December guaranteed everyone was wearing gloves. As she lowered her phone from her eyes with a stomp like a child’s tantrum, I swiftly spun around and snatched her phone from her grasp. With a feat of dexterity that surprised even me, I ended the call and silenced the device before a word left the phone.

  You obviously don’t need this that badly. There are others in need of more important things, like medicine.

  The girl didn’t stand a chance once I had buried the phone in my pocket as I walked with my head down. She screamed about how she was robbed, but I kept my smirk to myself. Most people ignored her, but a few tried to get her to calm down so they could try to help her.

  It’s amazing how people can overlook you if you don’t bring attention to yourself. And that’s precisely how I’ve survived on my own. But one person with a hood obscuring their face turned towards me. Quickly I went down a quiet alley, I stuck my head out to see if the man had followed my movements. But there was no sign of him.

  Odd, but that sometimes happens.

  With a sigh of relief, I pulled out the phone. It was still unlocked, but there were two missed calls.

  I pulled out a small screwdriver from my other pocket. After I popped the casing off, I removed the battery and the SIM card. The SIM card hit the ground, and I kicked it down the drain as I pocketed the battery and the phone separated. GPS needs batteries, and the SIM card is useless.

  When I looked out and saw a couple of guys making out on a bench, I noticed one of them left their phone sitting out in the open. I scooped it up without either of them being the wiser.

  As I looked around for anyone who noticed, I noticed someone was watching me again. It was the same guy with the hat and trench coat. He was headed my way. I tucked myself in a different alley. I turned down several different paths going from street to street hoping to lose him in the maze of alleys.

  If there was one thing I could do other than steal, it was run. I wasn’t the fastest person, but I was well above average. It seemed that I lost him. Annoyed, I performed my ritual of dismantling the phone.

  That’s twice now. I think it’s time to lay low. This should be enough for Marc’s medicine.

  But when I walked down the street, I turned to see the reflection in the glass mocking me.

  Large, almond-shaped brown eyes stared back at me. An innocent smile hid the pain of my loneliness. I kept my braided, silky, cherry blonde hair tucked into my hoodie. By most metrics, I was considered pretty. Even though I’m on the thin side, I’ve even got the coveted hourglass figure. But something about me leaves me forgettable and ignored.

  In highschool, I learned that fawns emit little to no smell to limit their presence to predators. But once they hit puberty that goes away and everything notices them. But that didn’t happen for me like it did other girls who blossomed.

  There was no sign of the man in the trench coat as I headed towards Berry’s pawn shop. A neon sign with “Berry’s Bits and Bobs” barely hung over the door to the store.

  He keeps telling me he’s going to secure that, but it’ll take it falling on someone before he does. And that’s only if he survives the lawsuit that follows.

  As I pushed open the door, the jingling bell echoed through the air, drawing my attention to the state of the store. It appeared cluttered and disorderly, leading one to believe that its owner was nothing but a slob. However, amidst the chaos, awaiting me—a handsome man stood behind the register, his gaze fixed upon me.

  “Ah, welcome!” He held out his arms as if he wanted to hug me from across the store. While the man set a record for neglecting his store, his appearance was the exact opposite. He wore a black polo and black slacks. His slicked-back, black hair shined from the obvious heavy application of hair gel. Stylish, no-rimmed glasses sat on his face, with clean-shaven cheeks pulled into the widest smile he could.

  “Hello, Berry. It’s me, Rina,” I said, reminding him who I was like I’ve done every time I'd entered his store.

  He nearly jumped. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t expect you today. You hit the casino tonight?”

  He always says that. It just means he forgot about me again.

  I shook my head as I pulled my hoodie back. The heat, at least, was on and helped ease the tingling in my toes. “Berry, it’s Wednesday. Security is tighter during the late-night hours. Tomorrow is the best day to go. It’s the slowest day, but their staff is all tired and at its thinnest.”

  He licked his lips. “Sorry. Usually I never forget a face. But yours always seems to escape me every chance it gets.”

  “You and everyone else,” I mumble.

  Berry chuckled as he slapped his hand on the counter. “Well, don’t leave me in suspense. Come on, let’s see the goods.” I placed the two phones on the counter and the batteries next to them. “Someone’s had a good day.” His eyes lit up when he saw the phone I took from the girl. “Oh, what have we got here? Someone’s been naughty.” He picked up the phone. “This model’s barely been out two weeks, and you’ve already clipped one. Color me impressed.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’d think with the money they spend on them, they’d take care of them.”

  Nope. Cracked screens, blown speakers, and water damage. The list goes on. If they’re so careless with them, and they likely have insurance that’ll replace them, I’ll just take them and sell them for something to eat and a place to sleep for a few nights.

  Berry gave me a smirk as he glanced at me from the corners of his eyes. “With as many as you bring me on a regular basis, I’d think you enjoy this.”

  I flinched. “It’s not like I do this because it’s fun. This is out of necessity. I hate it.

  “Right.” He nodded. “If you hate it so much, why don’t you find yourself a real job?”

  I turned to look at a haphazard pile of DVDs. “I’ve tried to have a normal life. They always ‘lose’ my applications. Nobody likes to hear you have no home address. It’s the same story every time I apply for a job. Who’s going to hire a twenty-year-old with no identification? It’s like I’m a ghost, forever doomed to be ignored.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “That’s dark,” Berry mumbled.

  “Just give me my cut already. I imagine one of those will go for at least a grand.” I crossed my arms and glared at Berry. This conversation always pisses me off. And don’t get me started with dating.

  With an uncomfortable efficiency, he dropped the subject. “Unlocked, used versions go for fifteen hundred. Since our agreement was twenty-five percent, add that to your second prize, and that puts you at, oh, five hundred.”

  I started drooling.

  “Five hundred?” I swallowed hard. “That’s a whole week. I can stay for a whole week at a hotel with that and that includes meals.”

  Berry scooped up the phones. “And here I was about to tell you not to spend it all in one place.” He opened his register and pulled out twenty-five twenties. “Here you go, kid. Go, get yourself something to eat.”

  I pushed three of the twenties back to him. “Do you have the medicine?”

  Berry dropped behind the counter and pulled out a tiny vial with a lid made for needles to puncture the top. On the bottle was a bunch of medical information and a small piece of tape with the word “Rina” written on it.

  He nudged it towards me. “You know how hard it is to get a hold of this stuff? It’s only for those with a very specific autoimmune disease. You obviously don’t have it.”

  I scooped it up and pocketed it with the money in my front pocket and hurried towards the door. But I stopped at the door and turned to see Berry still smiling. “Thanks!” I waved as I left.

  It’s not for me. It’s easier to just not tell him why anymore. I’ve already told him a dozen times. But now I can visit Marc.

  I guess that’s why I kept going back to him. While the man was obviously not above breaking the law, he genuinely cared about me. That, and he didn’t ask a lot of questions.

  He’s one of the few people who can remember me with just a simple reminder. Then again, I see him almost more than anyone else. Marc is a daily visit for me. Making sure I can get him the medicine he needs is really the only thing that keeps me going.

  A huge smile spread across my face as I almost skipped towards the nearest Mediterranean restaurant. I didn’t even bother to lift my hood. But I’m sure Marc would like some gyros. He always smiles when I bring him some. It’ll help him after he takes the medicine.

  I got him a couple of classic gyros, cooked well done, and picked out a couple of chicken salad gyros for myself. The walk to the hospital was quiet and bright. The hum of neon lights blotted out what little conversations were going on beyond the mindless masses staring at their phones.

  The sterile air of the hospital hammered me as I entered the hospital. After walking through to the elevators like a ritual, I pressed the button for the seventh floor, the sterile ward.

  The familiar ding of the elevator reaching the floor began the laundry list of tasks I needed to do whenever I visited Marc. Stripping off my clothes in the provided locker room, I took a shower, grabbed a gown and slippers before heading to the room. I made sure to keep the gyros and the medicine with me.

  The airlock system activating caught Marc’s attention. He perked up. I made sure to keep the gyros behind me so I could surprise him.

  Lying in his bed was Marc, a boy of about ten years old. His thin frame seemed almost swallowed by the crisp, white hospital sheets. Marc's hair, once a vibrant chestnut brown, had thinned considerably, a side effect of his prolonged treatments. His pasty clammy skin was almost as white as the walls, leaving it hard to ignore the undeniably visible blue veins underneath.

  His eyes, however, were a deep, earthy brown. He was looking more awake than yesterday. As the inner doors opened, his lips curved into a small as he raised his hand to wave at me. “Hey, Rina.”

  Marc's bed was surrounded by a few personal touches that managed to break the monotony of the sterile environment. A colorful blanket of dinosaurs, draped over his legs, added a splash of color to the room. A small collection of comics was neatly stacked on a nearby table, alongside a handheld game system.

  I pointed to the game system. “Did you get a new game?”

  He beamed. “I did. It’s called…”

  A waterfall of words spewed from his mouth. It was hard to keep up with him. I just smiled and nodded as he gushed about his new game. He powered it up and I played along with him for a short time. I’ve never really had the head for these RPGs he plays.

  Eventually, he had to stop when his stomach growled. I chuckled.

  I reached down the side of the bed and pulled out the food. “Guess what I got.”

  His face lit up when he saw the gyros. “Thank you!”

  He took one and unwrapped the foil. After taking a bite, he practically melted. The boy smiled as he took another bite. “You have no idea how bad the food is here.”

  I laughed. “I can imagine. What was it today?”

  “Chicken nuggets,” Marc said with a scowl. “Honestly, I don’t believe they’re even made of chicken. Once I can get out, I’m going to eat out every day.”

  I smiled. He knows they can't release him. But I'll humor him.

  I crossed my arms. “Oh really? Where do you want to go first?”

  He hoisted the gyro. “Kelsie’s Kool Kookies.” He broke out in a coughing fit. I made sure to get him a small cup of water. He took several small sips of water. “Thanks.” His voice lost all enthusiasm.

  I rubbed his shoulder. “You doing alright?”

  He put the gyro back in the foil. “Today isn’t as bad as it has been. The doctors are struggling to get the medicine. After that contaminated batch at one of the manufacturing plants, a lot of hospitals have been short. They talk around me like they think I don’t understand. I’ve noticed they’ve been going longer between injections. I’m long overdue for one.”

  I pulled out the small bottle of medicine I picked up from Berry. “Well it’s a good thing I got this for you.”

  He gave me a knowing smirk. “Playing hero again? How did you even get that?”

  I smirked. “That I can’t tell you, sorry. Professional courtesy, you understand.”

  Marc squinted at me. “What do you do? Why do you never tell me where you get the medicine?”

  I placed the bottle on the table next to him. “That’s because I don’t want you to worry about me. You’re my only friend. I have to take care of you, not the other way around.”

  “Is your work dangerous?”

  I waved my hand. “No, no. It’s as dangerous as a midnight run.”

  “Is it illegal?”

  Now why is he asking that? “Don’t worry about me. Save your strength for yourself. When’s the last time your parents visited? Don’t they have something to say about what’s happening?”

  His head dropped further. “They haven’t visited since they adopted another kid. They’re probably too busy now.”

  I stood up and went to pick up a syringe. I then carefully filled it, just like Marc taught me, making sure it didn’t have any air bubbles. With a slow even push, I inserted the medicine into his IV.

  That’s low. I’ve been forgotten by everyone, but he probably feels like he’s being replaced. I know his birth parents died in a car crash with a drunk driver. That’s how I met him at the orphanage six years ago. But he was quickly adopted while I was shuffled off to yet another foster parent. But in that short time he was the only one who would remember me.

  I disposed of the used needle. I need to cheer him up. More importantly, if his parents won’t be there for him, I will. He’s always there for me.

  “You have to get better. If you don’t, how else will I take you to Kelsie’s Kool Kookies?” I gave him a smile as I watched him lie down in his blankets. “I’ll make sure to buy you one of their famous ice cream sandwiches.”

  He looked up at me with shimmering eyes. “Promise?”

  I tucked him in. “Absolutely. All you have to do is be ready to pick your cookie and ice cream.”

  His eyelids drooped. The medicine always made him tired. “Okay.”

  I looked at Marc's unfinished food. He ate most of the one gyro but never touched the other. Sighing, I packed them up into the bag and headed out again.

  The doctors would ban me if they knew I fed him like this. But in the end it would never work. They would forget me the next day, like they always do, like everyone always does. Everyone except Marc.

  I changed back into my heavily worn clothes. I don’t know what makes Marc so special, but he’s my greatest treasure. A friend who never forgets me. It’s just too bad that he’ll be trapped in that bubble all his life.

  Part of me felt cruel promising him the ice cream sandwich. Another part wanted to make sure I picked one up for him tomorrow. But after that promise, I can’t buy one for him until he walks out of the hospital. It would tell him that I didn't believe he would make it.

  As I walked out of the hospital, I pulled the hoodie tight around my head. I can't think about that. All I have to do is I just get him enough medicine so he can get better. And then he can go back to being a normal child. Or as much as he can.

  “Rina Lone?” A voice called out from behind me.

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0BVWLYCT3

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