Cruel Child

 

2/13/19 Revision

364 Words

 

He stared into the distance with hands crossed over his chest. He took deep and measured breaths. Brown curls framed his face, reaching toward his shoulders. From afar, the sound of sirens cut through the air around him as he sat in the chair, straight up and calm.

 

The man lay on the ground, holding his head, a few feet away from the curb. The motorcycle’s wheels still turning as it rested mangled by the divider. The helmet rolled into the dying grass. People gathered around. 

 

The man rocked his head violently. Still clutching it, he tugged it toward his chest. His legs spread out. His jeans had ripped on his right knee as if sliced upward, exposing his strong thigh muscles covered with fast emerging blood. Sounds of anguish escaped his lips.

 

The boy kept watch. His face like a marble statue. His locks gently blown by the wind. His eyes stuck on the man and the bike. 

 

The ambulance arrived. Men in uniform rushed to the man on the ground. They pulled his hands away, revealing dark blood trickling down toward his chin. A scream cut into the air, deeper than the sirens before, and the crowd grew larger, and the murmurs became echoes of “Oh my God! That poor man… Is he going to live?”     

        

The boy didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. His breathing didn't change. In and out, in and out, deep and steady. His gaze, empty. 

 

Another shout of pain broke out from the man as they put him on the gurney. The horde hissed. The siren cried and sounded even louder than before. 

 

The boy watched as the tow truck pulled to the side of the road. A big, stocky man hopped out to inspect the bike—big, beautiful, bright red like fresh blood. Three police cars blocked traffic with flashing lights atop. Their white sides read, “Cook County Sheriff,” bold and daring.

 

The man was taken away. The motorcycle was taken away. The crowd disappeared. 

 

The boy sat on the balcony with light breeze caressing his face, still gazing at the empty street. In his hands a small compact mirror case. He closed it tender and slow.

 

Cruel Child was 1sth Published by Oakton Community College’s 1st annual literary magazine, Spark, in Spring 2016