Opposites { GreenBeads }

Saturday the boy thought to himself, a grin spreading across his lips and he sat on on a fire escape, wide awake before any earthly creature should be. It was still dark and the majority of the district were still snoring in their beds, trying to earn their last few hours of sleep. The perfect time for a nice stroll through a few stores. You see, Ryder was trying out a new tactic in order to win him his daily bread. Dusk was always to chaotic, everyone was out and paranoid. Too many thugs to compete with and storekeepers at their most alert. In the morning before they wake up is the best time to strike, or at least Ryder hypothesized. He'd find out soon enough.

Sliding down the cold, metal ladder, Ryder hit the pavement and started towards main street. The stores on the center avenue were the real ritzy ones- cake and jewelry. He'd always wanted to hit one of them but a sixteen year old boy by himself could not pull of such a dangerous job. However, he had been doing his homework. That is, researching the stores, not any actual homework. That's a laugh- Jeff Ryder going to school. Anyway, he had been keeping a close eye on a handful of stores on main street he had discovered some interesting patterns. The cake shop always had someone in twenty four seven. Someone was either getting some last minute frosting down after closing, or up early beating the bread for the rest of the day. Maybe one day he'd finally be able to taste a slice of chocolate cake- but that day was not today.

The jewelry store had a pretty rudimentary alarm system, and a guard on duty all night long. However, as Ryder learned, the guard was the owner's grandson who went to classes during the day and was stationed there all night without breaks. So as morning approached, he gets rather drowsy. Now that would be a nice place to hit- and oh the pay off would be sweet! He might actually be able to pay for some cake instead of stealing it.

The boy tugged his dark jacket tighter around his shoulders. The problem Ryder faced was that he was too distinctive. His build too skinny for a normal middle class kid, his skin too pale, his hair a ball of flame sticking up in all directions, and his whole body covered in a storm of freckles. The kind of kid you could pick out of a lineup in about .0003 seconds. So, naturally he has been forced to cover up with various articles of clothing- however in case he runs into someone on the street he can't be in a full cat burglar get up. Ryder has perfected his look- a dark blue jacket over a worn out black shirt with a forest green knit hat covering the majority of his hair. So if he ran into any unsuspecting citizen they would assume he was just some teenager with no sense of color coordination instead of the true criminal mastermind he was... or petty thief that works too.

For the first stage of his attack, Ryder walked calmly past the jewelry store, checking to see where the guard was inside. Seated behind the counter, the man was tilted back in a chair leaning against the wall dead asleep. Not much fo a guard if you ask me Jeff thought, before heading into the alleyway that ran behind the store to engage stage two of the plan. The telephone and electric wires met the building in the back, a few snips and he'd be home free... well store free or alarm free- ANYWAY, he be able to get it.

Throwing open the metal door that housed the wires, Ryder slid his knife from his pocket- it was a really nice knife, good for a rumble and just pretty to look at- and grabbed all of the color coded wires and drew his knife over all of them. He doesn't remember much between that action and entering the store- we think he might have been electrocuted and blacked out for a minute. Which, in hindsight, is kind of hilarious.

Blinking the stars out of his vision, Ryder grabbed the handle of the backdoor and yanked on it. Locked. He had forgotten about that. Looking around the trash behind the building, the boy found piece of thin metal piping almost like a crow bar. Wedging it between the door and its frame, Ryder threw his weight against it over and over until it broke the lock and the door flung open. Entering the store, Ryder grinned at the silence from the plastic alarm mounted on the wall in the corner. This was going to be a piece of cake.

He checked on the guard- who had changed positions in his chair but had not woken up- then went to the glass counters that held what he truly wanted. There were pearls and rubies and- was that a diamond? Holy shit that's a diamond! Laying a hand on the glass, Ryder tried to slide it open but found that the case too was protected by a lock. Frustrated and growing impatient, Ryder swiftly turned around, grabbed a random metal box, usually used to wrap the rings in, and slammed it into the glass case. The whole thing shattered, and a quick glance at the twitching guard told Ryder he had only a few seconds before he was busted. Grabbing as much as he could, the boy filled his pockets with necklaces, watches, rings and bracelets and when his pockets were full he shoved them anywhere else they could go, filling his fingers with gold and emeralds, a voice suddenly pierced the air.

"Uh, freeze!" the guard has awoken! Too bad, Ryder would have liked to have more. Shooting the man a grin, Ryder took off down the aisle behind the cases, sliding over the last one and making for the front door which was, of course, locked. Growling with frustration, Ryder simply kicked the glass of the door and ducked out between the shards, cutting his cheek on one of the pieces still clinging to his frame. Gritting his teeth, he started running down the sidewalk as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving a trail of silver and bronze behind him. A quick glance behind him to the boy the guard was behind him a was, trying to step over the merchandise as not to hurt it- that or he was stumbling from drowsiness.

Laughing at the fool's stride, Ryder turned his gaze in front of him just in time to see the back of a girl with long blonde hair before he ran into it. Rocketing them both to the cement, All the riches that had been safe in his fingers fell out, falling all over the place, tangling in the girl's hair and catching on the boy's shoelaces- not to mention a few pearls that rolled down the storm drain. The guard was right behind him, and a frantic Jeff got to his knees and scrabbled at the ground trying to collect his well earned booty. The guard was too close though, he'd never make it out of here. Looking at the girl on the ground beside him, Ryder made a last minute and dropped the gold in his fists and pulled his knife.

Jumping to his feet, he grabbed a handful of the girl's yellow hair and yanked it up, exposing her throat and holding his knife's edge to it. He might of looked badass with his face bleeding, hostage holding, jewelry covered facade, but in reality Ryder was shaking in his boots terrified of what may happen next. He loosened his grip on the girl's hair as not to hurt her, but stuck his ground. He didn't want to kill some girl he just happened to run into, but then again he didn't want to get sent to the Detention Center. Then again both might happen today and it wasn't even breakfast time.

"One more step and the blonde gets it!" he shouted, hoping his voice didn't shake too much.

You know when you describe someone has holding a knife to an innocent girl's neck after robbing a jewelry store some details are left out. By that description alone people would think of this character as a villain, a large ruthless with a bottomless thirst for blood and chaos. That or the kind with the handlebar mustache and a cape. Either way you know he is a bad guy and you shouldn't feel sorry for him, after all he's guilty of countless crimes committed just this morning. The sun had just passed the horizon and Jeff Ryder was already in deep shit. Typical.

Now what you may not know is that Ryder sees himself as less of a villain and more of a, what do they call it? Oh yes- an anti hero. Well he can't be the bad guy of his own story, now can he? Less of a knife threatening thug and more of a lovable street rat. Well, standing there holding some innocent girl at the edge of his blade he didn't feel very lovable. All the ruckus of running away attracted bystanders and some of those happened to be those fine, upstanding Peackeepers who watch over the District and are always determined to fuck up the boy's day. That's another thing, at only sixteen people usually aren't holding hostages but then again kids are growing up so fast these days.

Suddenly said hostage leans back and whispers something to them- something that might be the most accurate description of his morning. "You're an idiot." The boy sneered at the comment, and yanked at the girl's hair harder than before. He'd probably never see her- detention center for no detention center- so what was the use of trying to make friends. Besides she had that rich look about her. Her hair was clean and knot free, except the ones he was making by twisting around. She smelled like flowers- and the real ones the fake ones the people with money buy. As if they need to squirt something on them to make them smell good in the first place- they have running water and showers. No doubt Ryder smelled like something dead pulled out of a drain after three weeks, but that was beside the point. This prissy little chick was an innocent citizen a second ago and now she managed to piss off the one person she should not have- the guy with the blade.

Isn't that common sense? Ryder thought to himself as the sharp tap of Peacekeeper's boots rang out behind him. Shit.

Trapped like a rat. Cornered like a box. Stuck like a foot in a sock. Whatever you want to say, Ryder was it. However after sixteen years you learn how to sneak away from a few Peacekeepers. This wasn't his first rodeo, alright? He jerked the girl over, pressing his back to the buildings and taking in the sight of the three or so Peacekeepers staring him down. No doubt they're memorizing his features and he'll have his sketch placed in the square under the "Wanted" sign. Wouldn't that be awesome!? Then he could point it out to the older guys and they'd stop giving him so much shit. Then again they could also be looking for a good place to send a bullet through like, say, his forehead.

What would happen if he was caught? Would he be whipped in the square? How many lashing does one get for crimes such as his- after all by now he has a pretty sizable file at the Keeper station. Would they send him straight to jail? Would they avox him? The last made him shudder and suddenly his desperation to get out of this terrible situation became his number on priority- instead of witty banter which he was sort of thinking about before- but now he is all business. Inching to the side across the store fronts, Ryder leaned forward, placing his lips beside the girl's ear.

"I wouldn't make such quick judgments about people," he hissed to her before releasing her hair and tossing her straight into the Peacekeepers. Without a second's hesitation, Ryder took off in the alley that ran between two shops, leaping over garbage bags and knocking over trashcans as he passed them to make more obstacles for anyone who thought of following him. This was one thing Jeff Ryder was good at- running like hell.

With his lean, under fed body and adrenaline filling every vein in his body, Ryder ran faster than a tribute escaping the carnage of the Bloodbath- and those bastards run. Of course the boy was used to running away, from Peacekeepers, from responsibilities, from the orphanage he grew up in. You could say he had been running his whole life, always on the move like a nomad strolling through the forest and settling down for the night wherever suited his fancy. Ryder had considered that life- wandering beyond the fence in the land beyond Panem. Maybe then he could do less running and more thinking. Then again he didn't have much a mind to work with, so maybe he should just stick to District One.

Sprinting through the backstreets of the District, Jeff felt like his heart just might explode. His hat had fallen off somewhere closer to the main street when he had just started his escape. Now his red locks were free to catch the wind. It looked like streak of fire followed the boy as he ran- as thought his speed was so great he caught on fire. Well, if his hair was fire, his freckles were surely tiny bullet holes because he swore he saw white uniforms. They were most likely men in white shirts and women in lacy white dresses, or even people with white blonde hair, but just a glance was enough for Ryder's imagination to go wild with it. So he kept running, passing building after building, nearly knocking into children and the elderly alike. He was like the train that pulls into the station every so often- on set path that no one can change, heading down the rails at top speed until the conductor decided they reached their destination. Only Jeff didn't know where his destination was- well, he wanted safety but he had been searching for that his whole life. So far that quest had turned out fruitless, but maybe this one wouldn't.

He couldn't go to the Detention Center. Jeff had seen the kind of guys who come back from there and ti wasn't pretty. Many of them had scars and not little ones or just one. Large jagged veins of pink flesh snaking down their backs and arms. One guy came back with only a single eye and the skin around the hollow socket scarred by burns. A shudder ran don the boy's spine and his legs pumped even harder- if that was even possible.

As the boy tried to jump up onto the curb, his foot slipped into the storm drain instead, sending him sprawling on the concrete at full force. All Ryder could see was blood, it wad dripping from his chin, and his palms. His knees were now making an appearance through his jeans and they were skinned up too. The boy moved his jaw around, making sure it still worked and looked down at the blood on the pavement.

"You're such a little freak,"a harsh shove and the boy was on the ground, the impact forcing his teeth into his lips. The sharp taste of iron filled his mouth. He raised a hand to wipe the blood from his mouth but the bully knelt in front of him, grabbing his wrist before he could complete the action. Without a single word, the boy- more like man- twisted Jeff's arm around, until the kid cried out in pain. "Are you going to cry now? Over a little blood?"

Jeff wanted to say it wasn't the blood that made the tears well up in his eyes, but the pain choked back any words that could explain himself. However the larger boy didn't stop there, he dragged Ryder to his feet by the front of his t-shirt only to send him right back to the pavement with a fist to the jaw. Now blood was really filling his mouth. Jeff coughed it out onto the cement, and after feeling around his mouth with his tongue spat out the baby tooth that had been knocked lose. Well, he hoped it was a baby tooth.

"Are you going to cry some more?"

How odd is it that a simple scene of blood spilled onto a sidewalk can send a person spiraling into a memory. Brains are such fickle things, some times Ryder thinks it would be easier without them.

A move to get back on his feet revealed how exhausted he was. Every muscle protested any sort of movement and his lungs were on fire as much as his hair looked like it was. Crawling forward, he reached the brick wall of the nearest building and leaned his back against it, closing his eyes and trying to catch his breath. Why does he always pull such stupid stunts? That's right because they don't look stupid until after you do it.

Reaching into his pockets, Ryder chuckled to himself as he found the diamond he had spotted in the store. At least he caught something on this failed fishing trip.

"Satisfied yet?" the voice was high and thin and the sound of it made any happy feeling left in Jeff Ryder drain immediately. Trapped like a rat, like a rat about to be sent off to the mysterious Detention Center. The boy moved his heavy head along the brick wall, turning to turn at the girl. His blue eyes were tired more than anything, and stared blankly before he looked back down at the diamond. At least he was going out with a bang... kind of.

"You're probably thinking 'Great, the blonde came after. What a idiot. I wish she would just go away and kill herself.' " the girl snapped at him, and the boy raised an eyebrow, thinking it over. Doesn't sound like that bad of an idea right now, actually He thought, his eyes side eyeing the girl again. Her hand resting on her pocket where she had oh so subtly shoved a gun into. It was black and clean, a Peacekeeper's gun. How the hell did she get that? Probably just winked at the guy and he forked it over. Fucking girls.

Then the blonde dived head first into one of the most confusing "I'm going to shoot you" monologues Ryder had ever heard- and he had been audience to many. Usually they try to tear you down in your last moments so you die a wimp, blubbering about how pathetic your life is so they spare it. They don't try to encourage you, which was what this girl was doing. Suddenly, her speech had ended and she started off towards the main street, throwing the gun over her shoulder were it skidded to a stop only a few inches from Jeff. The boy looked from the gun to the girl's back and then back to the gun again.

What?

Suddenly, the boy was more frustrated and confused than tired and he climbed to his feet- with the help of the brick wall- and started chasing after the girl. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pulled into an unflattering, flabbergasted sneer.

"What the fuck was that?!" he said, his hands flying around as he spoke, his frustration channeled into his fingers. "You chase me all the way here- hopin' off of roofs and shit- just to give me a pep talk about my life and leave?! That's not what you're supposed to do, lady. I mean- really? You're just gonna walk away? I HELD A KNIFE TO YOUR THROAT. At least punch me or something. AND ANOTHER THING- when did I ever say I wanted you to kill yourself? I don't even know you and after this I don't think I want to. You make me look normal!" Punctuating his sentence with a thumb digging in his chest, his face flushed from speaking and his hair in some kind of strange halo around his head Jeff Ryder looked anything but normal. "So don't give me a pep talk, woman because I don't need any. I'm fine with my shitty ways, i think it is you who needs to look at their life- I mean really. YOU THREW A GUN AT ME I COULD HAVE SHOT YOU IN THE BACK. You should really stay on your side of town 'cause you'd end up dead in, like, point two seconds."

Throwing his hands in the air the boy turned around to head back down the ally way only to turn around and march right back up to the girl. "Alright when you have a gun and you confront a fucking criminal in a fucking ally way you do not make them feel better- you draw the damn piece and point it at that scum bag and look in his eyes and say 'Say hello to satan for me' and shoot him to kingdom come." the boy's arms flew around again, miming out his speech and dramatically pantomiming holding a gun out towards the girl.

"What? Are you a fucking idiot or something?!"

You know, Jeff Ryder used to think life was easy and that people, usually, made sense. Normally you piss someone off they'll yell and scream or just glare at you, maybe get into a quarrel but at least you know where you stand with them. Ryder knows exactly how he stands with everyone for example- his stance with Peacekeepers is actually more a sprint away from there. As opposed to the various girls that live on the street as he does who like to count his freckles and whisper little secrets into his ears. They can be a little deceiving sometimes but they are pretty transparent.

This chick, however, is the exception from all exceptions. Ryder could not try to understand this girl if he was given a million years. After chasing with with a fucking gun and then just letting me stay there huddled in a fucking ball in the alleyway- it's just so ridiculous! So, in the true Jeff Ryder spirit of things, he had to give her a piece of his mind- a dish everyone enjoys. Really, it's a delicacy because it is an endangered species.

After all he did ask her questions, right? She needed to explain herself! After all blondie was a conundrum on top of a conundrum. You know what she did? Fucking slapped him. Right across his face! The skin turned so red, his freckles blend in to the blush. It rattled his mind around too- after all he wasn't really expecting that. He didn't really know what he was excepting to be completely honest. It just wasn't that.

Then, right after a quick recovery from the slap, he made eye contact once again only to see her manicured little hand flying at him and land a punch square on his nose. Ryder has gone through some pretty blood fights in his time and after four broken noses, the whole sinus pain gets really old. Pain crept up the bones in his face, and the boy's vision was interrupted by stars and static. Shaking his head to clear it, he blinked frantically and looked back up at her. Opening his mouth he planned on spewing something out like "What are you doing you crazy bitch?" or "You're gonna regret that rat from hell!" or the ever popular "I'll bash your fookin' head in!". However none of these colorful phrases ever made it out into the humid air, for just when Ryder thought it was his turn to speak again, he was reminded that his partner in this conversation was bat shit insane. Yes, she kicked his mouth close. Teeth smacked against each other, with parts of his tongue caught in between. At this point the boy didn't even care about his poor, abused nose- a bitten tongue holds a special kind of agony that is rivaled only by childbirth.

After spitting a few words at him the girl whipped around, her hair grazing his face and making his now bleeding nose itch. However the girl- he never did learn her name what the fuck is up with that- twirled back around to aim a punch at his jaw. As if his face wasn't already messed up today. That was just one too many in his opinion. After all Jeff Ryder is the type of guy to, if thrown on the ground, toss his hands over his eyes and scream "Not the face!" After that final assault his strange attacker deemed her work good enough and pranced down the alleyway, vanishing around the corner.

Despite his exhausted body, bloodied nose and confused thoughts Jeff Ryder could still call this day a success. After all he had a diamond in his hoodie pocket and who knows what else stuffed into the waistband of his pants. That's one thing- if you get them too busy monologuing (or too busy smacking you around) they will forget that you actually stole a bunch of shit.

Actually he's lying, this is the first time this has ever happened to him. And, despite what others might think, Ryder hopes this is the last time it happens. It's a lot easier to plan a robbery when you know someone is out for your blood instead of some rich girl trying to decide if she likes you or not.

You knows, maybe that's how the kids with silver spoons show affection?