Nine lives

Chapter one: Erin

Meet Erin. 23 years old, and lives in a trailer park with his parents. Tall, muscular, short brown hair. It's not that he's a hick. No, no. Quite the opposite. He enjoys weekly visits to the city, even though most of the time he doesn't have a dime to spend. His family was just to poor to live anywhere fancier then a trailer home. They couldn't afford a car. If they needed to get any where, they rode bikes. If they needed to get somewhere further then reasonable biking distance, (and that was pretty far for them) they biked five miles down to the bus stop, took their bikes on the bus, and went where they neede to go. It was a small station, and everyone who worked there knew the family, and all liked them very much. Because of that, they always rode free, no matter what distance. Now you see, his mother, Mary, hadn't had a job in seven years. Erin, well, Erin had never had a job, and never really wanted one either, although he knew one day he would half to find one and move out. But he didn't want to. No, he enjoyed spending his days in the gym, working harder then anyone else in it. He enjoyed walking throughthe city in the middle of the day while everyone else at work, the streets completely abandoned except for him and the homeless. He enjoyed walking down those oh so familiar streets after a workout, when he was sweating like a dog, with a gentle, smooth breeze running softly through his hair, comforting him. No, he didn't a job. He may not have had any money, but his life was perfect, and
he was completely care free, and had been all his life. His dad was the only person in the family with a job. He worked at a local food store. With a normal paycheck of only 20,000 a year, he had to work double shifts. There wasn't any possible he could support the family without doing so. Raising a family of three on your own is hard. It's stressfull. Stress gets to people. Frustation, anger, and stress can take over. It will take over. It happened to everyone. Especially Erins father. One night, he walked with a half empty beer bottle, screaming, cursing. "Where the hell is my beer?!" He shrieked, as he smashed the bottle on the wall. Glass flew an beer stained the carpet. Erin rushed from his room to his father. He tried to comfort him as he had many a time. His father was a avid drinker. Sometimes Erin would think that was the reason they had such financial trouble. He always neglected the thought and pushed it out of his head. "No, my
fathers a good man, "he would tell himself. His father was a good man, but the stress and drunkenness had gotten to him. Suddenly, the sharp, uneven shards of glass on the broken beer bottle glided across Erins face. He plunged to the ground, with vicious cuts bleeding down his left cheek. His mother had been watching from the restroom, and hurridly rushed to him with a handful of wash clothes to wipe the blood from his face. She quickly ran back to moisten the other two wash clothes, then back to Erin. As she started to clean the cuts, his father started yelling again. "Your wasting the damn wash clothes!" He cried. She replied with a sharp, quick, lift of her middle finger. The next thing happenning was him yelling and kicking them both out of the house. The door slammed shut. The liked was heard. The next heard was his father cursing, and items crashing to the ground. As they walked into the night, it seemed cold and bitter. Not weather wise, but emotionally wise. And it was. The next day Erin awoke to a vile smell. He looked around. Dozens of homeless swarmed
around them, and he soon realized they were staring him and his mother. He reached up and felt his left cheek. He could feel the rough cuts where the glass had swiped across his face. He lied back down, his mind scrambling back to the night before, and the events that happened. He heard a rustle near him. His eyes sleepily opened back up. A man was creeping up to his sleeping mom, his arm slowly extending towards her. "Fuck off!" He exclaimed. The mans surprised eyes shot right to him. He snickered, but realizing the muscular size of Erin, backed away. Erin closed his eyes once again. As he lie there, the events once again came back to his
mind. His father drunkenly walking in. Him trying to comfort him. His father hitting him with the broken bottle. His hand once again slowly came
back up to his cheek, but before he reached his cheek, he heard another rustle. This time, his eyes shot open. It was the same man. Erin leaped up. "Did you not hear me?! I said..." He was interrupted by the mans fist connecting smoothly to his left cheek, right where his cuts were. His hand was cold, and it stung. He had to admit, the man didn't look like much, but he had a above average punch. But nothing compared to Erins boxer-like punch. The second the mans fist was off his cheek, his whole body was swinging into motion. His whole weight was focused on that one punch, which rapidly connected with the mans mouth. The man stumbled back and fell to the ground. The man had a busted lip, and his mouth was bleeding freely. As he walked off, he mumbled something about Erin being so overprotective about his girlfriend he couldn't even poke her. Erin heard him. "That's my mom, you bitch!" He yelled. The man turned around and gave the same reply to him his mom had given to his father the night before. Erin wouldn't take that. He charged at the man, tackling him to the ground. Soon, he was on top of him, punching him multiple times on both sides of his face. Erin heard a siren. He didn't care. It was to late now, and at least in prison he would have food and a somewhat decent place to stay. Anyways, all he really wanted to do was punch the holy hell out of this man. The police stopped, and got out of the car. They wrenched him off of the man, who quickly ran away. Erin knew he had no chance in court. He had a record. He didn't mind ping anyways. His mom was to be taken to a shelter nearby. That was his only regret, but it wasn't that bad, he'd still see her. While he was being "escorted" to his cell, he saw someone. Not a person on a cell. No, a girl. Like no other he had ever seen.