Chapter One: Echoes of Hope
The afternoon sun poured over the city like liquid gold, glinting off glass windows and casting long shadows across the bustling streets.
Cars honked impatiently; buses hissed their brakes, and the scent of roasted coffee beans and fried food mingled with the faint tang of exhaust.
People walked fast, some talking, laughing, arguing, others lost in their thoughts.
On the high road, cars packed in columns and rows, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. Within a black Rolls-Royce Phantom sat a man. He had his hands on the wheel, waiting at a red light. Black hair, all combed back. Dazzling hazel eyes scanning the street.
He stared at the people walking by on the pedestrian sidewalk, some on their phones talking, others buying and eating near food stands. He looked at them with a neutral look on his face when suddenly his brow frowned slightly as he saw a girl — barefoot, clothed in a blue oversized shirt which had holes and looked like it was disintegrating. She was running on the sidewalk as she clutched a small paper bag close to her chest. Her face was dirty, her dark locks a mess. Behind her, three people followed and shouted.
"Stop her! Somebody stop her!"
"She's a thief, hey stop!"
His frown deepened when she got closer to his view as she ran past the high road. Something about her seemed... familiar.
Yet he couldn't put his finger on it when suddenly realization dawned on him. His jaw tightened; a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.
His eyes never left her; he stretched his neck and watched her as she sprinted past a bakery, past a coffee shop, and then vanished behind a corner. He adjusted his posture and sat back into his seat properly. Soon after that, the light turned green. He drove on, expression back to casual, unreadable.
The girl didn't stop running.
Her lungs burned, but she kept on with her pace. Her legs ached; in fact, every single muscle in her body just wanted to give up, but she didn't give in. Her feet scraped against the pavement, callused and cracked.
She didn't look back, didn't slow until the shouts faded and the figures behind her seemed nothing but another past nightmare.
The men who were chasing after her stopped and panted.
But one person seemed to be insistent, wanting to still run after her.
One of them grumbled, holding back the friend who still wanted to chase.
"It's honestly nothing she took, it's just food, and if I remember correctly a half-eaten one. Let it go. In fact, why on earth were we chasing after her over food? That was really uncalled for, like it's not like we are a bunch of three broke rats."
"Yeah," the other muttered. "We aren't that poor to be chasing people for food. In fact, homeless people... mad, really at that. Dude, look how low you made us stoop. Come on, let's go, letting us chase a mad woman for food. You would never stop with your nonsense, would you?"
The two men kept nagging their friend as they hit his arm, walking him across the road towards their car.
The girl dropped to the ground at last, sweat stinging her eyes, sunlight scorching her shoulders, but she didn't pay mind to that, not even her aching feet. Her stomach growled, gnawing with days of hunger.
The bag in her hands felt warm and greasy, and she immediately opened the bag in her hand.
She looked into the bag and saw a burger. She smiled heartily and tore into it hungrily.
"L-leave her alone... please... don't jump."
She muttered between bites, words falling out in short, urgent bursts. She sat there like a broken toy, spilling words that made no sense as she bit through the burger she held.
People passing by stared, stepping around her, noses wrinkled, whispering things she didn't hear, or maybe she had heard it too often; it didn't really bother her much. She sat there with a lost look on her face as she focused only on the food, on the warmth spreading through her mouth as she ate. Crowds passed, whispers trailed; some shook their heads, others didn't care enough to even regard that she was sitting there and stepped on her left hand that she placed on the ground as she ate. She didn't really react much to the pain but just took her hand back as if it was a normal occurrence.
Others didn't really react but just chose to talk loudly about her as if she wasn't sitting there and could hear them.
"She's on something," one said.
"Mad," muttered another.
She tried not to pay heed; goodness, she always tried, once again just focusing on the burger that was almost done. Somehow, she still could not control herself as her eyes stung with tears, blurring her vision. She sniffed and tried to shake it off by looking upwards, but then...
She saw him standing there.
A tall, masculine man. His black hair was neat. Hazel eyes were sharp, almost too sharp. For a moment, everything froze when a memory flashed before her eyes. The memory hit her like a wave.
Flashback
The classroom was filled with noise. Students chatted, pens tapped, papers fell. The teacher's voice echoed in the classroom, trying to break the noise.
"Quiet everyone, please!"
But no one paid heed; they continued to chatter, with the noise even a pitch higher, which the teacher couldn't believe could get any higher. But then...
Suddenly, the door flew open.
The head teacher came in with a boy. He had short dark wavy hair, a chiseled face, and hazel eyes that could put anyone in a daze if stared at too long.
The class went quiet when they came in.
The head teacher proceeded to talk, "Class, this is Hezron. He's your new classmate. I expect you to be nice. Be kind." He said as he gave a nod at the teacher and walked out of the class.
"Now Hezron, go find a seat you would like to sit on," the teacher said and turned to go get things ready for the class.
Hezron looked down shyly as he walked fast to the back of the classroom seat. As he walked, people stared, others whispering about stuff he couldn't hear, but he didn't pay heed. He immediately found a seat at the back away from most people and sat down.
The bell rang immediately after he sat down. Soon class began with the teacher beginning the lesson.
The lesson ended sooner than anyone expected.
After class, four boys from his class followed him till he reached the hallway. He tried to dodge them but to no avail.
They cornered him in the hallway and blocked his path.
"Hey, new boy, you looked at my girlfriend during class. I saw you. Why did you look at her, huh? She ain't yours, is she?" said Derek, as he moved closer to him.
Hezron didn't answer; he looked down yet again, not because he was guilty, but because he was too scared to. All his life, he had been bullied: at first for being too fat and chatty, and now for being slim, always looking down and being quiet. He learnt that answering only made it worse.
Then a bag flew at them all of a sudden.
A young girl stood there, eyes blazing.
"Touch him, and you'll answer to me," she said. "I know you aren't scared of me, but I am sure you wouldn't want my brother getting involved. We all know you would have it bad if he heard you were messing with me."
The boys looked at her with fear in their eyes when she mentioned her brother. They slowly let Hezron go and said, "We weren't trying to cause trouble. We were just joking around. Don't tell Luke about us, please," Derek said in one breath and left.
Hezron breathed out a sigh of relief and knelt to pick up his books after they left. The girl walked closer, knelt down, and helped him.
"Don't cry," she said softly when she saw the tears falling down his face. "They'll see weakness and prey on it."
Hezron blinked, tears streaking his cheeks, but he immediately wiped it, telling himself in his head how much of a crybaby he is, and that now she probably thinks he even cries when he spills his milk too.
She smiled at him, dimples deep, eyes sparkling with unshed light, as she stretched out her hand like nothing unusual happened moments ago.
"I'm Voila. You are?"
He took her hand and whispered his name.
"Hezron."
Present.
Back in the city, she stared at him, chest rising and falling. Pavement burned her bare feet. The warm wind tugged at her hair, the smell of fried food heavy around her.
He didn't move. Only eyes. Only that look.