The decaying building rose up in the early morning light. It was the tallest of the other buildings, yet strikingly the smallest. On the right of the massive building was the police station, small and dingy, just like the rest of the city. To the left, the library rose two stories, the newest of the other buildings. Tkhe massive building was six stories high. It’s exterior was dully painted brown. On the inside it was no different. There was no interior decorator hired, or quality painters. The building was badly constructed in a span of two years. The building still, towered over the sleepy city in the dawn.
Ricky and Sam rolled into a stop at around six thirty that morning. Sam was still fast asleep by the time they got there. Ricky smiled at Sam’s young face. Not a trace of sadness was present, but underneath, there it was. Sam would wake up any minute and throw a fit. He didn’t want to go back. It was a struggle to get him back into the building. It broke Ricky’s heart to see Sam hurt so bad. He was only a kid. He didn’t deserve any of this.
Resting his head back, Ricky thought. Sam was fifteen now. In two weeks he had to testify for their great uncle Sal. Two weeks after that, he needs to begin seeing a psychiatric doctor or something. On top of that, Ricky couldn’t be there to comfort him. The state didn’t realize that Sam was a sensitive kid that needed support. At the massive building, the one across where they had parked, no one cared.
Ricky closed his eyes for a moment. Two weeks : trial. Sam knew that he needed to lie. Protect your own. Your own. Sal was in charge of one of the biggest Mafia families in the east coast. Their father was killed almost four years ago. First it was natural causes, now it was murder. Uncle Sal was their first and only suspect. Enough evidence was being used to bring him to trial, and there was enough evidence to keep him behind bars for life. Unless, Sammy testified. Sam knew it was wrong. But he had to protect his own. Their own. Where were “their own” when social security took Sam away? And where were they when Ricky wasn’t granted custody of Sam? No where. But in fear, Sam would lie. Even though they knew who did kill their father.
Sam started stirring incar seat.
“Sammy? Sammy, you okay?”
Sam slowly sat up on the car seat.
“Its morning.” Ricky said.
“I don’t want to go.” Sam started. He looked scared and helpless, like a wet puppy.
“I know, Sam. I don’t make the rules though.” Sam looked down and stayed quiet. “Do you know what to say?” Ricky asked. It was habitual to do so.
Sam nodded uneasily. Ricky sighed and put a warm hand on Sam’s neck. There were no words to describe it. But they both felt it.
“Lets get you back home.” Ricky said. They both got out of their car and made their way toward the orphanage.