By Sarah B

Today was like any other day. I awoke to my alarm clock, slipped my sneakers on, and headed out the door for my morning run. I’m usually the only person out this early, with the exception of a few other runners, and police that are on patrol. I run to escape my thoughts. My thoughts of my last fight tonight. As I turned down the corner to cut through an alley, I heard a loud groan. I was startled at first as I paused and looked around. Lying there in a pile of trash was a boy about 8 years old. I looked around to see if there was an adult around but I didn’t see anybody. “Hello?” I said walking closer to the boy. He didn’t show any kind of sign that he was alive, so I gently shook him with my hands. He jolted up, eyes wide and filled with fear. “Wh-what do you want?” he asked me.
“I’m Alfred Brooks,” I said “I was out running, and I saw you, what are you doing out here?”
“I’m David, I uhm must have fell, when I brought out the trash last night.”
I could tell David was lying. He smelled of sewer, and urine. And even though he was sleeping in a pile of trash, there was no way one night of garbage could make a child smell that bad. The boy also had scratches, bruises, and cuts all over him. He was shaking and fidgeting, and every time I got close to him he flinched.
“Hmm.” I said, “Where do you live? Why aren’t your parents lookin’ for you?”
“My parents care! They do! They really do!” he stammered.
“I believe you, I believe you. Just I want to help you. Where do you live?”
“NO! I can’t go back there. I can’t go home.”
There was something about this boy that made me think I couldn’t just leave him. I was going to be late to the gym if I stayed here all day, and Mr. Donatelli was going to be upset, but this boy needed help. He had something about him that I needed to find out.
“Ok, if you don’t want to go home I won’t make you.” I assured him, “you just need to tell me about yourself, and why you don’t want to go home.”
The boy sat looking up at me with a blank look in his eyes.
“I-I can’t tell you.” He whimpered as tears began to pour out his eyes.
“How about this, I’ll take you back to my house, get you all cleaned up, and then I’ll take you out to a breakfast spot that is right around the corner from my house? Hows that sound buddy?” The boy sat looking at my straight in the eye. I knew that he wanted to, and I knew that I could probably talk to him and help him if we talked. After a long while of silence, he finally cleared his throat and said, “As long as you don’t tell anybody..”
“I won’t don’t worry.” I assured him, even though chances were that I was going to have to tell somebody to get this boy some help. We were still a good half mile away from the apartment, and this boy looked like he wouldn’t be able to take four steps without collapsing, so I lifted him up and put him on my back, and started walking home.
When we arrived home I put him down in my room on my bed because he was sleeping. Even though his stench got wrapped up in my sheets, I didn’t mind. I jumped in the shower, washed up, and then walked back in my bedroom to find David still sleeping. I decided to wake him, that way he could shower before he stunk up my whole apartment.
When he got out of the shower I gave him some of my old clothes that were from about 6 or 7 years ago. They were a little big on him but anything was better than the rags full of holes he was wearing before. He asked to get on my back to go to the diner, I didn’t have a problem with that.
We sat down at a little booth with red vinyl seats. Our waiter came over and I ordered us both two chocolate milks. When the waiter placed our waters down with our silver wear David grasped his and clutched it tightly that he has white knuckles, and in a matter of seconds he was slurping it down, and coughing. It was apparent that he was mistreated at home. I started to make small talk.
“David, remember everything you tell me is a secret. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
He waited and helplessly looked at me, like a little abandoned puppy crying for help. David was crying inside for help and attention. After a while of thinking he cleared his throat.
“My mother abuses me.”
I wasn’t very surprised when he told me, but I asked him to tell me more. “Yesterday she put me in the bathroom with ammonia, and bleach. She barley feeds me, and when she does it’s the scrapings from my family’s plate. I live in the garage, it’s cold and dark. Everyone at school makes fun of me and I have to lie to my teachers saying my mother is a great woman.”
I knew that the child’s mother abused him, but this is just wrong! I decided not to make it apparent I felt sorry for him, because I couldn’t do anything. I decided to tell him about my friend James who used to be my best friend but is now doing drugs, drinking, and getting in a lot of trouble. I told David that I could have followed David down a path of bad choices, but I decided to get involved in boxing and work hard at the grocery store I work at, to make sure I can be the best person I can, and hopefully help my friend out.
“How do you do it all?” David asked wiping the tears from his eyes.
“You gotta have dreams for yourself David.” I answered.
I then got up and left $30.00 on the table, and left the gym’s number on a napkin for him. I had to be at Mr. Donatelli’s Gym, because I had a fight tonight.
“What’s all this?” questioned David.
“Order yourself a big meal, once your done; use the change that’s left over to make a phone call on one of them phones over there.”
“Whose phone is that?” he asked.
“I told you a little about how I am a boxer, but I have my last fight tonight, and I need to be at the gym right now to meet with my trainer. When you call, I’ll have one of my friends from the gym come down and pick you up, you can come check out the gym for today, and come to my fight at night.” I said.
“What about my mother?” he asked.
“I’ll take care of her, just come out for one night.” I said. I winked and then walked out the door on my way to the gym. As I walked by David had a big grin on his face, and was waving at me.