ColdFingers

                       He had left an hour ago. A full hour. She sat at the scarred wooden table, running her hands along the the grain of the worn wood. Her mother was asleep in the master bedroom,  at the end of the hall. lauren shifted her weight in the har wooden chair. it had been a long day. Her mother had gone into another lung spasm. She called Lauren at school, and she drove her to the hospital…again; but this time it was different. After sitting on her ass in the emergency-room for three hours, the doctors had come out and to talk to Lauren and her mom. They told her that the lung spasms were bring caused by irreversible lung cancer. 

                       She sat at the table remembering the cold dread that had filled the pit of her stomach. Jane, her mother, was older than all of lauren’s friend’s parents. Lauren and Kent had been the last of five children. Jane was nearing mid-sixties, alone, and had a seventeen year old girl, and a fifteen year old boy. A boy who was late, Lauren remembered. He went running arounf the block everynight, but they never worried about Kent. He was mildly mentally-retarded, but he loved to run and everyone on his track team adored him. Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like if she was the one who was born like Kent and he was born normal. he seemed happy. He loved to play his violin and run. When she heard the door open, she turned to yell at Kent for being late, but stopped at the sight of him. As her eyes filled with tears she brushed them away and took a deep breath.

                         His lower lip had been busted on the left side, and a black bruise was forming around his right eye. His knuckles were bloody, and there was a gash that was worthy of stitches. He was absolutley covered with spatters of blood.Lauren walked over to him and looked into his eyes. The usually bight, electric blue eyes had a dull, flat look to them that made Lauren’s heart ache for him. “Kent, who did this?,” she aked quietly. He looked up at her with surprise. “Aw Lauren, don’t be mad. They were my freinds. We were just playin around.”

                            She sat Kent down in her chair and went to get a rag and some medicine to clean him up with. Her mind raged as she gathred the materials. This wasn’t the first time that these “freinds” had done this. It was an induction into the local gang to find an unarmed, unsuspecting person and beat them up. Kent was a favorite, easy target of thiers. LAuren just didn’t understand why Kent wouldn’t tell her who it was, but she wouldn’t push him. She would clean his wounds liek she always did. the gash would need stitches , though. It was another trip to the ER. She left her mother a note, grabbing her cellphone and keys. She ushered kent into the passenger side of her car. As she turned the keys in the ignition and began to back out of her driveway three faces loomed outside of her window. The tallest one knocked on hre window, almost politelly. The grins on thier faces and the looks in thier eyes though, were anything but polite. To her horror, Kent smiled over at her and said, “Look Lauren! It’s my freinds!”

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(This is the first chapter in an ongoing story. I’m not really sure  I like the story as of now and it’s really long so I didn’t want to post it all……. but feedback  would be nice if you get the inclination and the time. The constructive critisim on my other stuff has been REALLY helpful so far….I could use some on this one too. 🙂 -PraebeoVerbum)