Stories from outside your window part 3

He had his phone by his ear.He cleared his voice, wanting to sound older than he was.
''C'mon, c'mon, you've got to pick up.''
-Hey mate, it's me.Listen, I need one. Now.
-Need what? the voice on the other end answered.
-I need one.
-No can do. You already owe me the money for the last two and till you pay those you ain't getting any.
-Ah, c'mon, mate. You know me. I'll get you the money asap.
-Yeah, I know you, but I don't know your money, do I now?Besides, that's what you always say.
-Just this once, please...I...But the other guy had already hung up before he could finish his sentence.
Second call.
-Oi, it's me. I need one.
-You're getting too much into this shit, man. And I don't want to be responsible for that.My answer is no.
He sounded like there would be no way to change his mind.
-Fuck! he shouted.
The people around were staring at him.He was on his way home. In the tram.He hung up.
-What? he stared back at the people.
It didn't seem to be his day, apparently.He thought about selling his phone to get the money, but the thing was he had a junk-ass piece of shit equipment as a cell.And nobody would buy it. If any would, he'd get just a part of what he needed.
''Damn, this is fucked-up!'' he told himself.He could take some money from his mom's purse once he reached home, but she would notice easily and get suspicious. He'd get in trouble. She didn't know about him yet, even though she saw him change the past few months. So that was out of the question. And he didn't have anywhere else to get the money from.
His last option: stealing. But how?
Where from? A store?
A bank? Nah, he couldn't do that.
Besides he was alone and too young to pull out something like that. He needed an accomplice for that. And he didn't have one. But he could do something else.
He had an aunt living nearby and he used to babysit now and then for his little cousin. He was an infant.He would get an extra buck for that.
But he didn't want the extra buck. He wanted quite a few of them. He thought it over and it came out to him how to do it.The tram had stopped. He got off and started slowly walking towards his aunt's apartment.
He was thinking the words he'd say, the face he'd put, the mannerisms he'd use.She knew him quite well, he had gone two days a week at her place for the last three years now.
''This will never work out!'' he said to himself.
''Yes, it will, cause I need one!!'' his counter-thought came back at him.
He reached the building.
It looked just like any other.Grey, depressing; people living in those flats like they're Guinea pigs or sardines in a can. Besides, he never liked the area.It's not like he lived in a luxury part of the city but here everything looked even more sad and hopeless than other neighbourhoods.
He cleared his voice again, took a deep breath, started climbing the stairs. The lift hadn't been working in years and hence most of the building inhabitants couldn't afford to pay for a new one, they just took part in daily exercises in the form of stairs-climbing.
Lucky him, his aunt lived at the second floor.It was a 8-story building.He got to the door. Put his ear close to it, trying to hear if any activity was done inside. Couldn't get anything clear, though. He pressed the ring button.
The doorbell rang for a few seonds till a voice behind the door was heard: ''I'm coming, just wait a bit!''She opened the door.
She looked surprised but happy at the same time.
-Oh, dear, how nice to see you again.
-Hi, auntie.How have you been doing?
-Come on inside.
And she got out of the way so he could get in.Closed the door and showed him the way to the living room.
She'd always do that, although he'd been in her place a thousand and one times. The apartment was old-furnished, she hadn't the money to change anything. It looked cold, but she didn't lack the more or less modern appliances. Don't expect to see a LCD or computer in, though.
Her husband had divorced her for three years now, about the time he started babysit his cousin, and he had left for Spain. But he'd help her every now and again with a bit of money. It was more for the kids, rather than for her.She had another son, out of town for college. He was 21 years old and he'd visit whenever possible, but lately he'd grown apart from her.
They reached the living room. The feeling of poor was toned down slightly, the best-looking furniture found its place here, besides she didn't use it much.lots of photos were staring back at him.They seemed to be plenty more than last time he'd been here.
She hugged him and started to pull his cheeks.
-Ah, c'mon, auntie. I'm not a kid anymore. He pulled back.
-Yes, but you're still my nephew. You know,I love you like a son, Michael, don't you?
-Yes, I know , auntie.
They took a seat at a table. She lit herself a cigarette.
-So, what brings you around here? You know Dan's not here!
-I was in the neighborhood, passing by.The last three classes in school were cancelled, teachers strike or something like that. And I just wanted to see how were you doing, how are you hanging on. How's Dan's state now, is he showing some improvement?
Her face seemed to fall on the floor. A minute earlyer she had a half-smile on her face, now she seemed like she'd start crying.She took her eyes from him, put the cigarette in the ashtray, and clasped her hands as if she'd say a prayer.It seemed forever till she answered.
-Well, you know, he's doing better, but not great. I mean, he looks weak, he is weak and there's nothing I can do to help him. The doctor said they haven't found a donor yet.It could take more than what they'd thought.He's always in pain, the kemo is no thing for a six year old.
She kept staring into thin air.
-You know, two days ago he asked me ''Mom, why me. It hurts so much.Why can't I go home? I wanna go home with you mommy!!'' And I couldn't give him an answer.I felt like someone had ripped my heart into tiny pieces.
She started crying. Hot tears being released from her big brown eyes showed more pain than her son was going through.
She took his hand.
He felt embarassed.Didn't know what to say.He never knew how to act in these situations.He hadn't faced many, thus experience was speaking its words.
-Things will get better, auntie, trust me.They'll find a donor soon.
-I sure hope so, love.I can't take it anymore.To see life fade away from him, day by day. He hasn't done anything wrong to anyone, he's six, for Christ's sake!
-Now, now, calm down, auntie.It's gonna get better.
A few minutes of silence passed. She still had his hand in hers.
The tears stopped.She cleant her face with a tissue.
-I'll be paying him a visit later on. Gotta talk to the doctor as well.
She stood up.
-I'm going to make some tea.You fancy a cup, love?
-Yes, I would auntie, thank you.
''Tea? Gimme a damn beer! '' he thought. She went into the kitchen. He started looking around for her purse. He spotted it. He was sure he'd find some money in it.If not, he'd have to come up with something else.
-Do you want two sugar cubes or none at all? she shouted from the kitchen.
-Either way's fine by me, auntie!
He rolled his eyes, nodding his head as saying a ''no''.
The phone rang.
-I'll be there in a sec.Let me get this first! she shouted again.
''Don't worry, take your time!'' he thought.
-Yes, ok!
Now was his opportunity.
He got off his chair and jumped to the purse. He wasn't looking behind, like he'd knew she wasn't arriving. His hand dug deep, gripping an envelope. He took it out. Her surname was written on it. He looked inside. It was full of notes, so many he hadn't seen in his life , yet.
She had put the money aside to give the doctor so he could take more care of her son.A small attention from her in exchange to a small attention from the doctor.
''Jackpot, baby!''he told himself.A big grin found its place on his face. He put the envelope in the jacket pocket, his aunt's purse in its right setting, like nothing happened.
She finished the conversation. Brought the tea into the living room. Set it on the table. She found him standing.
-That was the doctor. He said Dan was improving and that he might get better soon. Are you okay, love?
He looked a bit rushed.
-Yeah, I'm fine. Just looking at the photos. I see you've added more to the collection.
-Aren't you gonna have your tea?
She took a sip from her cup.
-I put two cubes in. Quite nice.
The tea would do her well. Calm her a bit. She did need some peace of mind.He turned his eyes to her
.-I think I'll pass the tea, auntie. I've got to go. My mom's probably waiting for me. Thank you anyway.
-But you haven't even tried it! she said with a confused tone.
-I know it's great, but really have to go. Maybe next time, when Dan's home.
He hit the sensitive chord.
She smiled for half a second and took another sip of tea.
-Ok, let me accompany you to the door then.
He stopped her from getting up.
-It's no need, auntie.I know the door, thank you.See you soon.
He turned his back and went for the door.He left her pondering with the cup in her hand.
The tea was quite nice.
He got out of the building, trying to regain his breath after running down the stairs like he'd been in a marathon.Cut the first corner, bought himself a beer at a store nearby and took out the phone.He'd call the first guy.
-Oi, it's still me!
-I thought I told you already how things are. Please, don't persuade me cause it ain't working......
-I've got the money!
It sounded like a spell.
The guy put the phone closer to his ear.
-Really?
-Yes, really!No bullshit.Plus, you're getting what I owe you as well!
-Fuck me in the ass and call me gay, it must be Christmas!And where did you get it from?Scratch that, I don't want to know.Just don't make a joke out of this. Meet me at the ''Place''.....
He hung up.
The ''Place'' was their meeting point. That's where the guy lurred him in the first time. Taking trips down memory lane again.The guy was only 5 years older than him, doing this to support his college bills. It was a private one.Private classes.That cost money. A lot.He wasn't doing any himself, but he gotten addicted to seeying these poor nobodies(most of them in their teens) ruin their lives.
That was his bad side.
They met at the ''Place''. Traded the ''goods'', shook hands and both left quickly, never looking back. They both got what they wanted.The guy would always give ''tools'' to payers : syringe, lighter and spoon.
That was his good side.
He knew an abandoned building on the other side of the city, perfect for him. It was one of these many unfinished construction sites.
''Houses that many will call home sweet home'' told the slogan once.It was more like ''Houses that nobody will see done''.
He could afford a taxi now, so he took one. Fuck the tram, let the others take it. He reached the destination. It all looked deserted.
At nights homeless people would find their sleeping ''beds'' here. In broad daylight, nobody hung around.He took out the ''tools'' from the small bag the guy had given him.
Prepared the stuff like a pro. He'd done this quite a few times. Besides, he was a fast learner. He filled the syringe with the resulted liquid from heating a spoon containing the heroin.
His left arm looked a battle camp.He thrusted the needle into one of the few virgin veins letting the heroin flow into his blood, his body, his mind, his soul, himself.
He felt God.
He was thinking of all those things he was getting away from.
Agony and ecstacy. Wars. Poverty.School. Lies. Rough life. Famine. Hunger.
It all sounded the same, but he wanted as many things as possible on his list.
He lay there, half-dead, the syringe falling from one hand, the other kept as a fist, eyes closed. away from everything and everyone.
Away from himself.
Away from the pain he was constantly feeling inside of him seeying people having things, and him having shit.
Away from the world.
He was having everything he'd wished for now.
He didn't need the world.
The world didn't need him.......