Laurence’s POV
The first time I saw him I was eight. My best friend Luke Illingworth and I were riding our bikes to the local park when Luke fell off his bike and landed on the hard concrete painfully.
“Luke!” I shouted in alarm as I jumped off my own bike, stabilisers attached to its back wheels – I couldn’t ride a two wheeler yet and I always got picked on by the others kids about it but they usually left me to my own devices if Luke was with me. Luke was taller and broader than all the other children at school and he was feared because of that fact. I wasn’t scared of him; he only looked intimidating; he’s a friendly giant, even now.
“Ouch.” Luke muttered as I approached him. Removing his hands from his knee, I inspected the wound. It didn’t look too bad, only a scrape but it still looked painful.
“Luke, are you okay?” It was a dumb question to ask, but give me the benefit of the doubt I was only eight.
While I was fussing over my friend I dismissed the sound of approaching footsteps until the source of the noise spoke.
“Are you kids alright?” A well-spoken male voice sounded around us. Turning around I was met with the sight of an incredibly attractive man. Well, I say attractive now, I still remember his appearance as if it was yesterday; short brown hair yet a long scarlet fringe blowing across his right eye, piercing chocolate brown eyes with thick black eyeliner surrounding the orbs, rosy cheeks from the cold winter and plump pink lips, a silver labret piercing situated underneath making his lips the main attraction.
“Y-Yes.” Eight year old I stuttered. “I-It’s just my f-friend hurt his knee.” As a child i was always nervous when speaking to adults.
“Oh dear.” The stranger replied sympathetically in a calm voice, the classic voice adult’s would only use when speaking to children. “We can’t have that, can we?” He grinned across at me, showing his pearly white teeth.
I remember not speaking a word as I stared at the stranger converse with Luke, I was speechless. He intrigued me. I remember watching the way his noticeable hair waved in the wind, when he smiled the way his labret stud poked out and the way his gentle fingers dug into his pocket and produced a single plaster, passing it to Luke before standing up and walking back in the direction he came from. It was odd, I’ll give you that and if I ever see him again I’d remember to tell him that. If anyone would have seen him they’d be sure to assume he was a paedophile. It just wasn’t someone you’d do nowadays. You can’t say hi to a toddler who waved at you without being classed as a child molester, yet he didn’t seem to care.
I didn’t see that mysterious stranger again until I was around fourteen years old. I was just leaving school for the day; I had left early because I got into another fight with some fellow class men, resulting in a bloody shirt and hopefully a black eye on their part. Flicking my black hair away from my eyes with the sharp turn of my head I crossed a busy street using the zebra crossings provided; only stopping once I had reached the other side of the road and spinning around at the angry sound of my name.
“There he is!” I heard a cry call out, noticing the source of the cry soon after. They were back. A group of boys crossed the road and hurried towards me, stopping when they were only a few feet away.
“Thought you could get away with this, Beveridge?” The recognisable voice of Luke Lucas rang amongst the crowd. Luke Lucas was a very popular guy in my school years, all the girls wanted to be with him and all the guys wanted to be around him. That was the safer route through education, but I saw through his lies and wanted nothing to do with him. Lucas didn’t like that; he wanted everyone to want to be around him. He craved admiration and lust, something that I had never understood about him and that was the main thing I despised about him, not to mention his joy in making my life miserable and love for physical violence.
