Concrete Angel - Phan

He walked through his door, pulling his sleeves down past his elbow to hide the horrible marks left that form the shape of a monsters rage. Painted in blue, yellow, purple, the colours of a thousand storms held inside of him. His daily battle to hold a smile begins. Again.

The walk to school gives the boy time to think. He thinks about what he could do if he ran away, would he be safe from it all? He passes the other children who stand by the gates, everyday without fail, he hears a small laugh, he sees someone point. He hears the little word, that breaks him down completely. At the age of 6 you shouldn't really know what it means to be an accident. But he does. Every night, he wishes his mothers wishes to be true. To have never been born.

The teachers notice all the bruises on the little boys arm, they give him questioning looks everyday, but the boy can lie as if its a natural talent. A half hearted smile can make the loss of life in his deep brown eyes flicker away, only to spark up a flame that shows a secret side of passion and pride. It's this that gives the teachers hope that the child will soon be happy.

The young soul walks around the school at break time and lunch hoping for a friend, just someone he can trust, to pour his heart out to. To tell his life story. Then maybe would he feel like somebody understands him, then maybe he won't feel alone.

The day passes as it normally would, slow and painful. The walk home is almost as bad. Decisions flying in and out of this poor child's mind, things that you shouldn't even dream about as an adult. 'Should i run' He asks himself, running away could cause havoc and get the police involved. 'Maybe if i just... die...' 

His thoughts were brought to a sudden halt. 'Was this... real?'. Stood there, was a beautiful boy, pale white skin, ebony hair that shone in the sunlight. The child turned and suddenly, the world stopped.

Was it possible to feel this way... broken... yet almost as if you could be fixed up within a heart beat?

The ebony haired child ran happily towards the younger, more afraid, boy. 

"I-i-i'm sorry i-i have to g-go home"

The smaller one ran home, had he made the right choice?

He ran through the door, hoping to get straight up to his room, to avoid the hell awaiting him. He wasnt quick enough.

"Oh, you're still coming back huh?"

"I have no where else to go mummy"

"Don't call my mummy you little shit" A sharp pain fell ocross the young boys cheek, falling to his knees he cries out in pain. The bully of a mother grabbed his jaw.

"I will never be your mother, you're and accident. Why won't you listen to me, i don't want you"

The little boy got out of her grip and ran up the stairs as fast as his small legs could carry him. He crashed on his bed, sobbing into his pillow. He heard a tapping at the window, he was already scared so he didnt answer. But it carried on.

"Psst, Psst"

The broken child walks to his window and pulls back the curtains, on the other side awaits the angel from earlier in the window from the house next door.

"Wanna talk?" 

The boy shook his head but got out a notepad instead.

'You live there?'

'Of course'  The ebony haired child replied, also with a note book.

'I'm scared'

'Why?'

The child couldn't reply, the evil woman walked in, and caught him. It could only go down hill from her. She grabbed his arms and shook him, screaming in his face.