Chapter 3 - Last Time

Wooo here we go…. Chapter 3…. I'm dieing on the inside… T.T



Chapter 3 is Rated: G, (warnings) language.







Rod flipped through a magazine. It had been a week since his parents' death. They had been cremated and he attended their small funeral. Not many people came, Rod had never met his grandparents and there was no way to get in touch with them. Rod didn't have friends to attend. A few of his parent's friends heard of it and came. Rod didn't really know anyone there. His parents never really spoke of the people they associated with at work. It wouldn't have mattered if he did know them, because in his mind, he was alone.

Rod didn't shed one tear at the funeral. He didn't even speak. Its not that he didn't want too, he had a million words running through his mind, but none would come out. Rod watched in silence as his parent's ashes were buried in the jars he had picked out.

He had been staying in a small room in the police station. Since he wasn't even 16, the legal age to get approval to live alone, he couldn't stay at his house. He hadn't been to school since the incident. Going to school hadn't even crossed his mind. Not much of anything had crossed his mind. He often seemed to stare off into space blankly. Rod's living conditions weren't bad. He had a twin size bed, a shower, toilet, sink and a small desk. It certainly wasn't a life of luxury, but it was fine. But of coarse, he couldn't stay there forever.

The police were very kind to Rod, and tried to make him smile. All of their attempts failed, but they tried their best. Rod didn't have any close relatives. Telling him he was going to have to go live in an orphanage for a year or so wasn't the easiest thing to do. Rod didn't even blink when they told him, it didn't seem to have an effect him at all. They told him he would be able to go home and gather a few small things he wished to take with him. Everything else was to be given to the Salvation Army or auctioned off.

Rod closed the magazine and tossed it on the desk as two policemen entered his room. They escorted him to a van, and dropped him off in front of his house. They told him they would be back in 2 and half hours to pick him up. This would be the last time Rod would be able to step into this house and call it `his'. He needed to gather his things along with them memories, or he would never see them again.

It was a quarter after 6 as Rod took the first step into the house. Everything was as he had left it. He went in the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. He dare not eat anything, considering everything had been in there for a week, probably longer. His mother had always been on a diet. Though there was no need for it. Thoughts of his mother ran through his head as he scanned the many `low carb.' and `low cal.' Yogurts and soft drinks. He closed the door.

Rod noticed a Pink note attached to the door with a heart shaped magnet it read:

Dear Rodney,

I hope you had a wonderful day at school. Your father and I have gone to the store to pick up groceries. We will be home as soon as we can. We love you honey!

~Love Mom

P.S. I baked a pie this morning, it's in the stove. It's your favorite, strawberry! Feel free to help yourself to a slice!

Rod opened the stove, sure enough, there was a pie. “Let the police clean it up,” Rod thought.

Rod walked through the living room and ascended the stairs, reached his room and shuffled through his closet. He pulled out a suitcase. He had been told he would be supplied with clothes and bathroom supplies, so he just needed to retrieve things he wanted to keep. Rod stood up gazed at his surroundings. He wanted to remember everything, just as it was.

The next hour and a half consisted of Rod going through old photo albums and other little things that held memories. Rod had to stand on his tiptoes to reach some things in the top of closets. His suitcase was overstuffed and he wished he had more space. He decided to take one last look around the house, then down to the basement.

Slowly he descended the 23 stairs, sliding his hand down the rail as he went. His heart rate went up as his drum set came into eyesight. He felt a fire of eagerness burn inside him. A small smile crept across his face as he walked over to it. His hand softly touched the face of the snare drum. He tapped his middle and forefinger to make a soft rapid beat. Looking up at the posters on the wall, he came to a stop. All his favorite bands, his parents never liked rock music and wouldn't let him put posters up in his room but the basement was the one place he could really express himself. It was the only place in the house where no sound could get in or out. Rod remembered all the hours he had spent listening over and over to the same songs to learn their drum beat. He had even created and written a few of his own tabs, with lyrics to go with them. But they were hardly what you would consider songs, since they had no guitar or bass. An immense desk was placed in the corner. On it was a computer, and tons of printed copies of drum tabs and songs. A huge stereo was on a small file cabinet. 10 C.D. Disk changer, loud enough to make you deft. Rod had bought it with his own money 2 years ago. C.D.s cluttered the shelves of an old bookstand.

Rod shuffled through the papers on the desk, folding and placing a few in his pocket. Most of the ones he took were the ones he had written, songs and drum tabs. Rod searched and found what he was looking for. His Type B drums sticks. He liked type B better, because they were bigger and had a deeper tone than type A. Rod looked at the clock and realized it was eight o' clock. Drum sticks in hand; Rod raced up the stairs and closed the basement door. The police officers would arrive soon, so Rod decided to head outside. He looked around the house one last time, then walked out the front door.

Rod took a seat on the sidewalk. It was cold outside, cold enough to see your breath. Suddenly Rod felt himself begin to choke back tears. It was at that very moment that he realized everything that had happened in the last week. Seven days ago, he was a straight A student with loving and supportive parents. Now he hadn't even attended school in a week and no one in the world cared about him in the slightest. By this time tears were streaming down his face. All this time, he had not cried once. Reality had finally sunk into him, and everything was coming out. He tried, but there was no way to stop him from crying. Rod brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. There he sat, on the sidewalk in the cold, crying his eyes out with a suitcase of old photo albums and trinkets next to him. “Why me?” Rod whispered to himself. “What have I done? Did I do something wrong? What have I done…. To deserve… this?”

Down the road came an old light blue ford pick-up truck. The paint was crappy, it looked like someone tried to paint it themselves, like how you would paint a wall. The truck slowed to a stop as it reached Rod. Rod looked up and wiped his eyes. Out of the car stepped a tall bat. His attire consisted of a Black hoodie with blue jeans and sneakers. The bat was white, with light brown on the tips of his ears and bangs. Strangely, he was covered in piercings. 5 in each ear, 3 in each eyebrow and one on his lip, were what Rod could see. A cigarette hung from the left corner of his mouth. Hands in his pockets, he walked to stand about five feet from Rod. His aquamarine eyes glistened as the light from the streetlight shown on them. His gaze was directed directly at Rod. “What are you doing here”, he asked in a deep calm voice. Rod stared at him in disbelief. Was this actually happening? Did some stranger just come out of nowhere and start talking to him? Rod swallowed a lump in his throat and took a deep breath. The bat stared, awaiting an answer. “I, I'm waiting for someone” Rod stuttered. “Who?” The other asked flatly. “Why the hell dose this guy even care? Just leave me alone.” Was all Rod could think. “Ummm… some policemen.” “Why are policemen coming here to get you?” Rod's eyes darted to the ground. “I'm not going to jail or anything… I guess, they are coming to… take me to a new home.” “You mean like a foster home?” “not… exactly” The bat looked at the house behind Rod. “An orphanage?” Rod lowered his head back to his knees and sighed heavily, “I suppose so..”

The bats ears perked up as if he were listening for something. “Do you want to go to that hell hole?” Rod looked at him as if he were crazy, “Of coarse not” Just then the police car turned down the street. “Then lets go,” Suddenly the bat flung Rod's suitcase into the back of his truck, grabbed hold of his arm, and pulled Rod to the truck. He pulled open the passenger's side door and shoved Rod in. Then went around and got in the driver's side. He turned on the truck and started to drive. As they went passed the police car, the bat pushed Rod's head down and told him to duck. All Rod could think was “What the hell have I gotten myself into!?”







Guess what!? This chapter made it all the way to just barely 6 pages! WOOO! Well Rod has been kidnapped, how is that for a twist? You weren't expecting that where you? No? That's what I thought. LOL. Who is this mysterious bat? DUN DUN DUN everything will be reviled in chapter 4! Thanks for reading everyone. I'll get started on the 4th chapter soon.



Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, all the description about the drums, I know that cause I play the drums, lol sorry if I confused you on some of the details.

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