It was about 3:15 in the afternoon when she made up her mind. Kate had thought about it millions of times before. A few times in seventh period she had even promised herself that 'today would be the day.' Today was totally different, however. She hadn't planned on running, only the usual overwhelming dread of arriving home. That day though, something happened…and before she could think about it, Kate was sprinting through the drizzle. She wasn't thinking, just running.

Head down, watching her own feet hit on the concrete. Hearing—no—not just hearing, listening to the sound they made as they hit the ground. They sounded exactly like something else from Kate's life…her old life. She ran until she couldn't stand the slapping of her tennis shoes against the sidewalk anymore, and she had to take breaths so deep she thought that her chest might actually explode. The drizzle had gotten heavier ( (could now defiantly be called rain) and Kate's dark brown hair was frizzy and plastered to her face.

Kate looked around. She was downtown, she knew, but exactly where she had no idea. She didn't really care either. Her legs wobbled as she turned into a corridor between two brick shops. Totally exhausted, the girl leaned against one of the rough walls and slid down until she was in a sitting position. She sobbed silently, and the tears blended with the raindrops. These weren't the same tears that she had been crying for the last nine years. These were more like the rain: refreshing, cleansing.

Kate closed her eyes, folded her arms on her knees, laid down her head, and slept.

"She dead?"

A foot nudged Kate in her ribs. She didn't have the energy to move.

"Don't know," said a different voice.

"I didn't know the Schollies were allowed to die," was a third voice? How many were there?

A light chuckle. Kate could sense a group of people around her.

"Well, get her cash and we'll leave."

Kate finally was able to raise her head. It was pounding and weighed a ton.

"Whoa!" Everyone scooted back some, "So she lives…"

Kate looked around, and started to get frightened. Four boys, all varying in ages, stared back at her. The shortest carried a torn-up knapsack. Kate tried to glare, but despite her efforts, her fear shown through the mask.

"Hey, Schollie, calm down. We're not gonna take your stuff…yet." The boy speaking was a little older than Kate, perhaps sixteen. He smirked. In the darkness, Kate was slowly remembering what had happened, and why she was in this alleyway in the first place. All she could do now was stare stupidly at the four boys looking curiously at her.

"Hey, Schollie, you deaf?" the next-tallest boy said. Then he yelled, "CAN YOU TALK?!"

"Fuck, Ben, shut up. You'll get us caught," The first boy hissed, then said in a gentle voice, "C'mon, we're safe." He held out a rough hand to Kate. She stared at it. It was filthy, and the fingernails were black with dirt. Then came the quick tap, tap, tap, of boots on the cobblestone. The boy looked desperate, he shook his hand in the air, "Come on! That's the night cop!" Kate had no real choice. There was no way she wanted to go to jail, and then be sent back home…She grabbed the disgusting hand and a strong arm pulled her to her feet. And then, more sprinting, but this time with cramped-up legs.

After only about a mile, the five neared the edge of Jacobson, and came nearer to the quarry. Kate used to sneak off here after school when she was a girl. She knew she was south of town. She continued following the boys into the woods until they came to a small clearing. In the middle of the clearing was a small fire, with another person sitting near it.

"C'mon, c'mon, sit down," The oldest boy mumbled. Kate, along with all the other boys, gathered around the flames that were licking the stars in the sky.

Kate looked around. The clearing was pretty much a circle, maybe 10 yards across. On the side of the circle opposite Kate, there was a large heap of something, but she couldn't tell what. All the boys were silent for a moment, but then once again, the oldest spoke. Barely. "Oscars," he said.

The shortest boy, maybe about seven, pulled some hot dogs out of the knapsack. He picked off a fuzzy piece on the end, then handed it to the oldest boy. From there, the oldest picked out a long stick, poked the hot dog, and thrust it into the fire.

"So," the boy who had been sitting at the fire said, "Who's she?"

"Don't know, she doesn't talk. Found her downtown."

"She doesn't talk? At all? Fuck, not another Clam," the fire boy replied, then glared at the boy who hadn't said or done anything. Clam looked away.

"Nah, look at her. She's got a uniform. Bet she goes to Scholastica's."

The fire boy paused and looked Kate over for a few seconds. It seemed like he was choosing his words carefully. "What's your name?" he said finally. Maybe he wasn't such a great word-chooser.

Kate wasn't sure if she still had a voice. She tried, but nothing came out. She tried again, "Kate," she managed, but her throat was dry. Her voice reminded her of a rooster.

"Damn, so she does talk," said the hot-dog-roaster.

The fire boy smiled. "I'm Nick." He sat on Kate's right. He looked about 14 or 15, a little scrawny, with brown, wavy hair. The fire cast odd shadows on his face, making his eyes look like the size of oranges. "That's my little brother, Clam. We call him that 'cause, he doesn't talk, hasn't for a while. It's…kinda a long story." Clam sat next to Nick, motionless, staring at the fire unblinking. He looked like a miniature version of his brother, maybe two years his junior, but with a more gaunt face. Clam wasn't wearing a shirt, and if she had wanted to, Kate could have counted each and every one of young boy's ribs.

"I'm Spence," said the boy who had been carrying the knapsack. He was the youngest of the group, maybe seven. He had blonde hair, and a round, chubby face. Spence smiled at Kate. He had crooked bottom teeth and a gap in his top teeth, but he was cute. She smiled weakly back.

To Spence's right was Ben, the one who had yelled at Kate in the alley. He introduced himself. Ben looked quite young, maybe ten or eleven, but he had a surprisingly low voice. He was obviously trying to stay quiet after the incident in corridor. He had messy dark hair that he kept trying to keep out of his face by shaking his head.

Finally, directly to Kate's left, was the boy who seemed to be the leader. "JP," he said simply, "Just call me JP." After a short silence, he asked, "So, Kate, why were you sleeping in that alley, anyway? I mean, look at you…" he let his voice trail off. Kate supposed that he was referring to the fact that she was still wearing her school uniform. She was fully awake now, and now realized that she was sitting with five males she had never seen before. Kate didn't respond to the question. She just continued staring from one boy to the next, wondering if she ran, could they catch her? All of them looked back at her, including Clam. Fire popped. Crickets chirped. Kate didn't speak.

"Alright," JP said pulling the hot dog out of the fire, "let's try an easier question." JP looked over the meat carefully, and then shoved the stick in Kate direction. "Hungry?"

"Y—No, thank you." Kate was starving; she hadn't eaten since noon…which was probably at the very least twelve hours ago. Just before she was about to take the stick from JP, she remembered how Spence had ripped off a moldy end. Presently, she had no appetite and shook her head.

"Suit yourself," JP said. He blew on the end of the sausage, bit off a huge bite, and then passed the stick to Ben, who did the same.

"Damn, why don't you talk?" asked Ben to Kate with a disgusting mouthful of hot dog.

"Leave her alone, Ben, she's probably tired." Nick seemed to be second-in-command. Kate shook her head, but said nothing.

If you or someone you know is a victim of abuse/domestic violence, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) TTY: 1-800-787-3224 or email them at [email protected]. It's totally free. In an emergency, you can dial 911.