Free A Forgotten Tomorrow by Teresa Schaeffer Page B

his voice, his laugh and all about his work with Jon. He still felt confident, having no worries when it came to how he handled his business.
    Towards the end of our lunch I mentioned my feelings to him. I felt, like, self-conscious for a minute, stuttering and fumbling over my words, but it all turned out okay.
    “Can I ask you something?” I asked before we stood up to leave.
    “Sure, Van, what’s up?”
    I felt my face turn red. Suddenly I was shy – something I never usually was around Elijah.
    “Um, I don’t know,” I giggled, “I guess I was just wondering if maybe, uh–”
    “Yes,” he said before I could even finish. He laughed, and then grabbed my hand. “You don’t have to say anymore. I know,” he smiled.
    “Do ya?” I managed to say.
    “You know I been all about you, Van, for a while.”
    I didn’t respond, just smiled back at him as he rubbed my hand with his finger. I felt butterflies in my stomach and wanted to kiss him. I wanted to tell him everything I was feeling, but thought it was best to leave it at that moment. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I’d told him that I loved him.
    Ten minutes later, that beautiful moment between us was shattered into pieces.
    Once we left the shop we walked together to the park, where we were going to go our separate ways. On the way, we spoke about little things, nothing huge – just our lives and where we wanted to go. He had big plans; I wanted eventually to escape my life and become a little more normal.
    I felt bad when he handed me the bag of meth. I had mixed feelings. I didn’t want to just take it from him, but I needed it. He assured me that no one was noticing the amounts he was taking for his pleasure. We both agreed that after that bag was gone, we would stop using.
    Anyway, the street was silent and appeared to be abandoned. There was no one outside on that block, not even kids playing on their bikes. Granted, it was the ghetto area, but it was too quiet, even for there. Chills went down my spine as our steps echoed against the exterior of the residential homes.
    The chills I was feeling were a sign that I shouldn’t have ignored. Within secondsElijah was laying on the cobblestone street screaming in pain. A group of four boys, huge boys, gathered around him and set about beating him with chains and a bat. As they took turns striking his body, I tried to get them to stop – but they pushed me away every time, threatening me with the bat.
    Suddenly, Elijah’s screams stopped. He lay there, motionless, with blood oozing from his head. I was frozen and couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream either. I was too scared. Why would they do that? Why? I wanted to grab Elijah and pull him out of the street, kiss his forehead – but I couldn’t. They were still standing there.
    One of the guys was looking at me, pointing his blood-drenched bat in my direction.
    “You better get lost, trick,” he announced, walking towards me and threatening that I would be next.
    I tried to run, turning my back on my best friend. As I ran off I heard one last smash against his body.
    “That’s from Jon. Never forget it, punk!”
    I started to cry immediately. Without even thinking twice, I knew those kids had just beaten Elijah to death. I stopped running but didn’t dare turn around, even though I badly wanted to.
    If I’d walked up to Elijah at that very moment, I would have been dead too.

    What if he wasn’t dead when they were finished with him? I left him there all alone, taking a bath in his own blood…
    This is why his vision haunts me.

CHAPTER 11
    I wake up with the stench of vomit in my nostrils, in an alleyway near one of the fancy boutiques. I’m not really sure how I got here, I can’t remember. But here I am, leaning against a brick wall, still shaking uncontrollably. My eyes are almost swollen shut from all the crying and my throat hurts. I’m a bloody mess, but I don’t really care.
    I know I made a fool of myself earlier, walking down the