— Bingo —

I breath heavily.

The door opens.

A girl with medium length, brown hair opens it. She appears to be around thirteen to fourteen. He eyes widen.

"Mom!" She screams. She just stands there. Her eyes don't move. Her mouth doesn't. He whole body is frozen. It's as if I'm a ghost.

I continue to breath heavily, my eyes widening.

"Help," I mutter, sounding as if I'm struggling.

"What baby?" She asks, sounding irritated as she approaches her daughter.

She looks at me. "Oh my gosh!"

"Can you help?" I ask. "I'm hurt."

"Who are you? Where did you come from?" Mrs. Reed asks.

"I'm Jack. I got away from him." I start to cry.

"Who's him?" She pushes her daughter away from the door.

"My dad. He hurt us." I let more tears fall down my cheeks. "He hurt my mom and I. He had a gun and shot her. Then he slashed me with a knife." I motion to my cut.

"Where is he now? Did he follow you?" She asks, sounding worried.

Oh boy, it's working.

"I don't know. I was able to grab some stuff and ran out of the house. I heard a popping noise when I left."

"Oh dear," she says, stepping out. She wraps her arm around my back and guides me into her home.

Bingo!

The door leads into a nice living room with cushioned seating all around. In front of the couch was a huge television. The biggest one I've seen my whole life. To the left of the television was a chair for one with a bench at the end. Behind the chair was a small open area, brightened by the sun, peering through a large window.

Mrs. Reed walks me through the living room into a very pristine kitchen. Everything is white, brown, black, or gold. At the far end, a wooden table sits by three small windows.  In the middle is a large island. The counter is all a white, marble, granite surface. Above the island hangs beautiful, golden, abstract lights. Behind the island is the necessities. The gold sink, the oven, the stove, a microwave, a toaster, a blender, an air fryer, and the dishwasher. The whole nine yards is there. Gold railed stairs sit at another corner.

She sits me down at the island bar in a fancy cushioned bar stool. Mr. Reed, who was at the dining table, gets up and comes over to me.

"Honey, who is this? What's happening?" He asks.

"He needs us right now. He told me he had a family incident. Now I'll be right back. I'm going to get the first aid."

She runs off just as a boy walks down the stairs. He has brown hair, just like his sister. It's styled nicely. He is wearing a black Nike hoodie and gray Nike sweatpants.

"Woah, is this our visitor?" The boy asks. "He looks a little more roughed up then what Jenna said."

"Jay, shut the hell up and go away!" Mr Reed says, irritated.

"Come on dad. Just wanted to meet the new kid."

"Well, generally meeting people is saying hi, and generally paired with how are you."

"Yeah, maybe for middle aged men."

Mr. Reed puts his arm around my shoulders. "Don't mind Jay. He's a typical teenager. Fifteen year olds you know."

I stare at him blankly. His humor is dry. "I'm fifteen."

"Oh. For that, I apologize." He says.

"No need. I know how we can be," I say, drying up my tears with my hand.

Mrs. Reed comes storming in. "I'm so sorry hun. I can never find the first aid kit. Here," she says, placing it on the counter. "I'll get you taken care of."

Jay comes and sits right next to me and pulls out his phone. Mrs. Reed grabs some paper towels and wipes up the wet blood. Most of the blood remains, dry and crusty.

She pulls out alcohol wipes and says, "This is gonna sting hun." She placed it on my wound. I force myself to squint, even though I have felt way worse. I've gotta sell this.

She wipes the cut and all around it, cleaning up the remainder of blood and dirt.

"Alrighty, you're all set. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need. Dinner will be spaghetti tonight."

Jay looks up, "Come on mom. Seriously? You can't just invite random strangers into our home and let them spend however long they want here."

"I can if I pay the taxes for it," she snarks back. "Jack, if you get your stuff I can show you your room. We don't ever use it. It's the guest room."

"Thank you so much Mrs. Reed," I say, tearing up.

"Oh, no problem," she says, coming in for a hug once I stand.

I accept it. An easy relationship if I do say so myself.

•—•

Thoughts? —>

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