6: Ten

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TW: Clear. Rating: description of violence, sex insinuated

I walked down the street, away from my new house. How long would we stay in this one before dad got the impulse to move again? Would the impulse rise from a new job? A large raise? Rival neighbors? Boredom?

"Get back here, you little runt!" I heard a boy yell and footsteps with a lot of weight behind them.

Another boy screamed, and with it I could tell the boys were headed toward me. One of them passed a car, and I could tell he must've been the runt. I ran across the street towards the boy, hoping to reach the other side before he blew past me.

"I'll catch you!" the other boy huffed.

I hit the pavement, and the other boy nearly ran into me as he was looking back. He stopped short in surprise and nearly fell. I grabbed his arms to keep him upright. He immediately struggled to keep running.

"It's alright," I assured, pushing him behind me.

A fat boy with even fatter cheeks ran towards me but slowed as he realized I was between him and his evader.

"What's the problem?" I asked the fat boy.

"He...he...he, ugh-"

"You just want a punching bag?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"No! He lost my Super Mario!"

"And? What do you plan on doing to him?" I asked slowly.

"Beat the snot out of him, that's what!" he yelled.

"Go home, you little asshole."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't, I will cause you more pain than you could ever deliver," I said coolly, eyes narrow and deadly serious. He didn't move a muscle. "First, I'll give you a better nose. Next, I'll make sure the doctors have to shave your head. Then I'll give you some facial scars to bring the attention away from how abnormally large your face really is. Then we'll fix that body. A few cuts, and all that lard will come spilling right out. And we'll cut you enough you don't have to worry about extra skin," I rambled sadistically.

He took a few steps back and ran.

"Lesson one, bucko. Fibbing is a beautiful thing. I don't have a knife on me, and I've never even been in a fight before," I explained, turning to the boy.

"So you just...thought of all that? Right now?"

"Not now. We all have our bullies, kid. Who was that?"

"My cousin. His name is Dudley."

"Your own cousin? Does he carry out his threats?"

The boy nodded.

"Damn. Let's go get some biscuits. My mum's are the best."

"Okay," he said slowly, somehow not afraid of me although I had described a brutal murder (or at least extreme torture) without batting an eye.

"Where're your parents?" I asked.

"Dead. I live with my aunt and uncle. And Dudley."

"Do they know about his beatings?"

"Yep."

I stopped and looked at him seriously. "Kid, you're welcome in my family's home any time you want."

"Thanks," he said slowly. "I'm Harry, by the way."

I looked at him carefully and moved my fingers to his hair. Pushing the mop aside, I saw the scar. "Harry Potter? Huh. Nice to meet ya."

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