"It's crazy to me..." thought the brown-haired boy, who was just sixteen at the time, "...that all these people just walk past each other. Not even thinking about who they're next to right now. They could've walked past a serial rapist while not keeping an eye on their kids."
The sixteen-year-old, who was nearing his license that grants anyone the freedom to go practically anywhere they want, provided they had a car, looked around – seeing all the different people walking about the mall. Looking at the skinny ones, the fat ones, the muscular ones, the short ones, the tall ones, the hairy, the bald, the light, and the dark ones. He even tried glancing at the ones sitting near him, but an awkward one such as him was too scared to attempt in fear of eye contact.
"They're all comfortable and they have no reason to be. Even the ones with guns on their hips could still get jumped, or cheap shotted. That gun won't help you then, but I guess it would make me a little comfortable. But of course, Mom's too retarded to understand that, or I'd have a gun of my own. And the cops are not going to do much. Yeah, they *Might* get the bad guy, but only later - after a call was made - after you're already dead. And the court is the exact same."
With his right hand - the hand he'd use to get him throughout his life to this very point - he pulled his flip phone from his pocket to check the time only for the phone to be out of battery from a while ago. "I could be a killer on the run and these dipshits wouldn't even know I was sitting right next to them."
The poor boy got up and headed out planning to go home. The 6'7" male with thin black hair watched the boy walk off. He could smell him walk past when leaving his chair: Black Cherry. He was his type - the feminine kind, the "bitchy" type. No hair on the chin. He knew by the way he would take his steps and by his posture. And by the fact he tried glancing at our thinning freak multiple times but was too scared to commit. He gave him some distance before getting up and trailing the child from a bus length away, following him out the mall's doors and out to the dark parking lot with not even a moon-lit sky, or a hero with a gun, or a cop, or a judge in sight.
