little kevin

The streets were illuminated by light poles, there were some broken ones, but it was not important. He liked the dark and he could deal with it .

Walking at night, without any light shining on his face, only the flashes of the Moon that barely illuminated his eyes. He's already walked the silent streets when there are blackouts, at night the crime was much higher, but he didn't give a damn. For him, it was a dream to be pointed at with a gun in the middle of the night, his body falling to the ground from the bullet that had lodged in his head. A painful and understandable death would have been perfect for him, but every night he went out for a walk it seemed that all the evil of humanity disappeared and no one wanted to assault him.

He walks down the middle of the street, staggering from side to side intentionally. Anyone who saw him would think he was drunk, on drugs, or crazy. The last one would be the closest.

He continued doing that strange dance, waiting for his vision to blur and his body to disconnect from his mind, letting himself fall against the cEment.

This time, his body does not fail him. He manages to sit on a bench without falling, but his lack of rest made him feel as if he were living a dream. His surroundings were deformed, the floor moved and generated different shapes, he even felt a tingle in his feet, the floor swallowed him. He wanted to scream and ask for help, but he knew it was a hallucination from not sleeping well weeks ago. His face is completely static, his brown eyes look at the graffiti wall as if it were a work of art, although his mind warped even the innocent bird drawn on the wall and turned it into a grotesque living scribble. The striking letters turn into liquid and fall on the bird, melting its head to its feet. Richard swears he hears the animal beg for mercy in a human voice.

He squints his eyes, straining his vision. His imagination was already going to shit. The animal's screeches sounded like a fucking human. He could recognize the voice echoing in his mind.

"Stop it! What did I do to you?!" He hears that phrase perfectly, the bird cries and ends up turning into ashes. The paint falls to the floor and a pool of blood forms under his feet.

His eyes widen to the point where gunshots seem to be about to come out of his head. Listen to the whimpers of a small child in the red puddle, it was his reflection. It was a younger boy, approximately nine years old, with colorful spots on his body. His arms were lined with blue, black and red pens. The lines were varied, with shapes of stars, hearts, and meaningless scratches. Out of nowhere, lines smudge and drawings are ruined.

Suddenly, he feels burning in his arms. An inexplicable sound crosses his head like an arrow and he falls onto the bench.

He doesn't know how much time passes, but he wakes up when he feels a small grip on his arm. The grip feels very weak.

He opens his eyes slowly and comes across the silhouette of someone small. His clothes were wet, so he assumed it had rained while he was sleeping.

"Sorry sir. Did you see my mom? She is tall and blonde. She had makeup... like Barbie. "He tries to explain, seeking help from a stranger was very new to him. As a child, the fear he felt terrified him more than it would an adult.

Richard observes the child, he was not as small as he seemed, but his expression of fear and hope was enough to intuit that he was a naive child, just like others younger than him.

The minor seems to have cried, his nose, eyes and cheeks are of a reddish tone that give him away. It could be that he was sick, but due to the situation he was in and the traces of tears that were shed on his cheeks, it was something else.

Crying is common for a child, especially if he has lost sight of his mother. The feeling of abandonment is what they fear the most.

" ...What's your mother's name? I think I know her." he lies, smiling forcedly.

""Uh... mom." his response makes Richard laugh, it was obvious that the boy did not know his mother's real name, he must not even know how to write his own name.

"Of course I know her! We went to primary school together. She told me to take you with me, I didn't think you were so identical to your father." He holds out his hand to the minor, and without waiting for him to reciprocate, he grabs his hand. and squeezes it lightly.

"Do you know my dad?"

"Yes." he states quickly, without exchanging glances with The minor.

The brat's small legs couldn't keep up with his steps, which was notable, since if it weren't for his grip, she would already be three meters behind him trying to keep up with him.

His eyes look at the sky, it is still night, he calculates that it must be four and something in the morning, close to five. He lowers his gaze and looks at his feet, he accidentally stepped in a puddle of rain and ended up getting his shoes and pants wet.

He hears sneezing behind him, the boy is getting sick from his wet clothes.

"And what's your name?" Richard asks, he wanted to at least know her name before doing what he had in mind. "I better at least know how to pronounce his name or I'll break his skull right now," he thinks, wishing he was right.

"Kevin." He answers his question thinking a little while putting his fingers in his nose.

"He really is a brat." he mentions, looking ahead. They were almost there.

Kevin doesn't listen to what he says, he just keeps sneezing and playing with his snot. He thinks that the man is not lying to him... he is so naive that it is sad.

A macabre smile appears on Richard's face, out of nowhere, fatigue leaving his body. Possibilities flashed through his mind that magically another woman described as a Barbie would see them and ruin his plan, but the statistics were few.

What did you have planned? He had no idea, his body was acting on its own. As if he were attached to an instinct.

The grip gets tighter, he hears squeals, but he doesn't care.

His smile fades, and his expression is stone. In the distance he sees a light coming from a train. The first one has already passed, the only thing missing was the last one that passed at 5 iN the morning.

He moved the small body and pushed it towards the tracks, the sound of another train approaching was a good sign for him. The smaller one looked at the older One in confusion.

"Your mom is on that train, sit here. No matter how scared you feel, stay in front of the train and wait. Your mom will stop the train on time." Having said this, he pushes the little body until his knees hit the tracks, his feet also feel how the rails precipitate the arrival of the train with tremors. The tremor was minor, it was close but close enough away to give him time to convince the boy and make him fall into his trap.

A few seconds passed, the little boy under him trembles with fear when he sees the train lights. Richard, with his hands resting on his shoulders, feels herself trembling and Laughs because of it.

"Hey, Kevin. If you are afraid, cover yourself with your arms and look at the floor, it is a magic trick that will help you appear inside the train. However, it only works if it passes over you, you understand? In case your mother doesn't manage to stop him in time." he continues explaining, showing the kindest and calmest smile he could muster. He loved to play with people's innocence, more specifically with that of children. He has already manipulated them to take paths. wrong, giving him money and other things that were considered minor crimes, now he would step out of his comfort zone and cross the line of what he could do to someone with the Power of his words.

He moves away from the tracks and watches as the brave boy remains static, gripping the steel tracks with his hands so that his body does not fail and he runs away out of Fear.

As the train approaches faster, Richard notices how the child's pants get wet with fear. He was urinating from the terror he felt. His eyes were wide open watching the light get bigger and bigger. His body trembled frantically, begging his mind not to let him escape.

Kevin remembers the good man's words and crouches down, protects his head with his arms above him and closes his eyes tightly. The last thing he saw was the floor, tears fell and he remembered the last moments with his mother.

The adult woman had put on makeup, and he had told her that she looked like a Barbie doll that appeared in TV commercials. Her light blue eyes, red painted lips, light blue makeup eyelids and false eyelashes made her look just like that doll. They had gone out to the mall to buy clothes and more school supplies for him. Not having a present and responsible father to pay the pension, they had to buy their whims once a year, since they did not have enough money. Despite that detail, he got along well with his father, although he was not very happy to spend a lot of time with him, he preferred to visit him rarely and not exceed his visits. The few times I saw him, I spoke to him from afar, as far away as possible so as not to wrinkle his nose and curse at the disgusting smell of alcohol. He couldn't complain much about that, his mother also reeked of an alcoholic, even after putting cheap perfume in her hair.

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