Start From Go

I knew that she would be safe for the time being, at least with him for now. In a strange way he and I were friends, at the same time enemies.
It was a complicated situation, he desired me more than he ever wished to, and I appear to be not capable of resisting him. I was taking a side trip before I went to retrieve her, I wanted to go back and trace the steps where this all began. It had been years since I was without her willingly now and I wanted to do some digging of my own; I wanted to know for my own ears. I pulled up in my fire engine red, two door sports car that I could never put a name too.
My Mexican companion looked curiously out the window at are new destination; "Will you find answers here?"she almost whispered to me. I shrugged, I was not sure but I knew the former department of Human Services was where this is all started years ago, and it was where I would begin my search.
I walked cautiously up to the closed building; its presence was erie, it felt like to much unneeded  disruption had taken place here. Could this have been are faults? I made note to my gun in the grove of my lower back between my pants; it felt as if we were not alone. Annabelle, my Mexican companion also carried a small firearm. I must confess teaching her to use it was quite an event. At first she was quite scared as to why she would need to know this, after understanding the path she had begun to walk with me it became easier, she was eager to learn but not so well at the actual task. She often froze up, much like I did in the beginning, but time will make it better if she even made it that far. She knew the circumstances, and understood what she was doing.
We busted the rusty lock on the doors and stepped inside the smoggy smelling hallway. She gazed in amazement on how much American buildings could peril; she pitied it. I walked over to the entrance to Human Services, I became absorbed in the memory of the social worker turning insane as the tried to contain her while I exited the building. Years ago that was the strangest part of my day; now though.. the strange part of my day is when nothing goes wrong. I could feel the emotions again, the people and there frightenment as a fellow co-worker lost her mind in front of there eyes. That day, that woman, she had changed my entire life. It appeared that after I had left that day cleaners had come through and taken care of the establishment, and the persons in it. It still reeked of death in this place, we could both feel it. I made my way to her office, there were papers strode everywhere; mostly burned. I hated the since of things being burnt. Her office, besides the destruction was as it had been that day, the chairs were tipped over near the left wall now and it had been completely gone through. I sifted though what was left, looking for something; anything. She came in behind me, she was completely horrified and disgusted; "They left someone.... behind."I read her feelings that she wished me to see, I followed. There was no telling who or what person this could be. The body was decomposing, after years of sitting here; alone. I sighed a bit to loud, something behind the pile of office chairs stirred. I realized after taking a larger look that they had been made into a shelter; somewhat like a beavers in a dam. It was a man, very frightened. I took out my gun and aimed it as I spoke;
"I know you are there, come out."
"Who is you?" Spoke the aged African American man. By the sound of his accent, he had been homeless most of his life.
"I'm just looking around, I mean you no harm." I attempted to make my voice a stern as possible but his feeling of paranoia was overwhelming me.
"You sure you mean no problems, I don't want any trouble." He was hesitant, he came from his dam of office chairs, holding a broken boom handle for a weapon. I lowered my gun, I recognized him. I remembered him from my teenage days living on the streets before my sister and I were in the mess we were wrapped up in today. He didn't remember me though, I looked much different and aged; his memory also might be lacking greatly due to his lifestyle. He starred at us for a long time before he spoke again; I assumed to come up with the most accomplished words he knew.
"What is that you want here," He had choose his words carefully, stirring the question away from him and his positions.
"I am retracing steps from the day this place went under, hoping to find something to help me understand." I hopped that my words were not to insulting to him and his home, for a homeless man this was a quite lovely establishment.
"I can't be much help to ur'e here, I came just this year to this place here." I sighed, he was not lying and was as stumped as Annabelle about what could have happened here. I thanked him and we left the mans new home, there was nothing left to find here. I had checked up on what had happened to the social worked to see if she might remember something but she was without memory inside the city's largest graveyard some miles down the road. She had been found hung from here dining room ceiling two days after the event. It had been noted on the file as suicide; likely not.
"Where is the next stop? I hope it is less tragic than this one.." He voice was hopeful, but my responding look crushed those hopes instantly.
"We are going to my former Aunts former house." I tried not to remember the last time I was in that house. There was bullets and blood everywhere; and that was just at  her house, I did not see any of the other houses apart from my sisters girlfriends house soon after. The houses left to my family still resumed as they were, untouched; aside from the police investigations. The roads to my Aunts old house were still much the same, the cars even still placed in the driveways as if nothing had ever happened. I had never the time or guts to go through or deal with anything left; I was also on the run from the police for some minor crimes, and unproven claims. I parked in the driveway, sitting there, just starring at the house. Annabelle sat there with me, she did not know if to feel afraid or feel grieving for me; so we sat there together staring are are new destination. A destination we were unsure if we could enter.