Chapter 1. The Boy

Rushing out of the wooden saloon doors a young boy dashed down an alleyway, barely able to stand upright. Running around corners in hopes of losing the unwanted followers he stumbled, tripping over his own feet, and landed face-first into a puddle of muddy slop.

Fearing the consequences he began to gain his footing once more before swiftly slipping and landing back face-first into the muddy pool.

Going to attempt to get up once more felt a large foot land firmly on the small of his back, pinning his movements down. Being pinned down the young boy became prey trapped under the predator's claw. He quickly became no more than a mere animal as he tried to struggle and slip out of the man's foot. 

Breathing heavily a large-bellied man with thinning hair and a drunkard's scruff looked down at the boy, "Stop running," taking breaks in between talking to catch his breath he continued, "..you fucking rat." Once more, "Give me back the money."

Ignoring the man's voice the young boy was in full fight or flight mode, and he happened to choose flight. Continuing to try to wriggle his way out from under the man's boot.

Eyes burning with annoyance more than anger at the sight, the large-bellied man applied more pressure to his food. Causing the young boy under his feet to be swallowed by the wet muddy pool of rainwater. 

Still catching his breath he looked over his shoulder at two similarly out-of-shape men with a flame of anger in his eyes, the large-bellied man barked at them for being so slow and ordered them to search the boy's body. 

Huddling around the struggling boy the two men's hands danced around and through the boy's pockets in search of their boss's money.

With every attempt at struggling from the boy a kick was blown and a fist was shot, this repeatedly happened until they eventually found what they were looking for.

Finally standing up with a pouch of coins dangling from his grip, one of the lackeys acclaimed to find his boss's money and inwardly wished for praise from the large-bellied man. 

Striking out with speed unusual for the man, he displayed that only money could move him that quickly. Ignoring his lackey he took the bundle of coins and opened the bundle, silently counting them one-by-one.

"Good job boys, give him a good 'ol 'Lineille family goodbye' and let's be on our way. I'd hate for a precedence to grow around town that we're easy to mess with. I wanna make sure those street rats know not to mess with us."

Releasing his foot from the small of the boy's back, he walked away pouch in hand greedily counting the coins inside it. 

Being free to turn around, the young boy flipped over onto his back to look directly at the aggressors. Searching around he found no opportunity to run away. His hope dwindling the two large men loomed over him menacingly cracking their knuckles. 

They say to beware of driving men to desperation as they would find even a cornered rat is dangerous. The cornered rat in question tried to crawl away from the approaching men. Grabbing the boy by the leg one of the lackeys dragged the man back to them and they started pummeling the child.

His pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as the sound of heavy punches echoed out in the dark alleyway.

After a while the two men marched away, finally done with their chores. Exchanging cruel applause to each other for their blunt handiwork. 

In that dark moonlit alley, a young boy lay broken in a pile of bloody liquid that was slowly building in a pool around him. Dismissed as if he was an unruly mutt he whimpered in pain as he curled up in fetal position.

No passerby dared to approach his shaking body, not a hush nor a whisper of concern for him. He was unable to move his limbs properly and crawled like a half-dead corpse.

He moved towards the trash piled up nearby. Slowly he made a mountain of trash that shielded him from the weather and crawled behind it. 

Unable to hold the pain back he was only capable of releasing a shallow laughter which built quickly into a flood of tears and sobs, each teardrop rolling down his face and washing away the crusted mud. 

Enough time passed that the boy didn't realize all the crying led him to tire out and fall asleep. 

The sound of rustling feet and children chirping in joy awoke the boy from his sleep.

Slowly craning his neck, he peered from the side of the garbage pile. Unable to get a good enough view he slowly pushed a large crumbled box out of the way. The movement wasn't enough to be noticed by the children but enough for him to catch a glimpse of the other side. 

Caked with mud and trash the young boy watched as the children, similar in age to himself, run around and dance in delight. A sincere sense of sadness and longing for the same feeling washed over the boy.

As he continued to watch them run around and laugh a naive thought emerged from within his consciousness. 'What if they will let me play with them.' The yearning to share all the feelings these children were feeling crept over and covered the sadness he felt, blinding him to his desire.

The childish nonsense they showed tricked the boy into thinking he could be one of them, that he too could play and run around an alley with his soon-to-be friends.

With his desire to join them finally overcoming his other feelings, he attempted to move but found that moving caused searing pain to surge through his body.

But he didn't give up yet, he wanted to play with the other children, and he wanted to laugh and giggle as they did. Gathering all his might for one last push he stood up from the pile of trash. This caused the mountain of garbage shielding him from the children's view to buckle over from the weight shift and unveil him to the children in the alley.

With the mountain of garbage nearby buckling over, the children gave a start watching the filthy boy struggling to stand in the midst of it. 

This sudden movement of the environment caused the boys and girls playing to stop and look at what caused the commotion.

In full view of the children, he placed a hand on the stone wall next to him for leverage. Slowly the small filthy boy opened his mouth to speak before being interrupted by a shrill scream of disgust.

Shocked by the scream he found it came from one of the young girls. This instinctive reaction from the girl caused the boys to start hurling insults and threats at him from coming any closer. 

To them the little garbage child didn't look like them, no, he wasn't even of the same race as them. He wasn't human he was just a creature that emerged from discarded items.

Unable to get a word out in time, a handful of pebbles was hurled at him by a boy near the front of the group. This action caused a wave to wash through the group as one by one they all began tossing whatever small sharp objects they could to dismiss the creature in front of them. 

Numerous pieces of sharp sediment were flung his way as he held himself against the wall, unable to move. 

Feeling a sharp rock graze his cheek, the young boy brought up his free hand in a desperate attempt to shield his face. The small rocks against all odds found their way to his fresh wounds, causing another surge of pain from them.

Eventually, the children ran out of things to throw and began to run off in different directions out of the alley.

Raising a grimy palm, the boy began to chase after them in hopes of clearing any misunderstanding up. But his injuries from the previous night halted his efforts, unable to hold himself up anymore he fell hard to his knees, landing amongst the fallen trash.

He felt confused as to why they suddenly started to throw objects and rocks at him. Putting the confusion to the side he felt his consciousness slipping away.

'Please, I just wanted to play.' Blacking out from the mix of exhaustion and the injuries sustained from the night before his vision blackened before falling unconscious once more.

Hours later the boy awoke once more, now with the sun past the peak and heading towards dusk. The mid-afternoon sky had yet to turn dark purple but the light blue tint had started to dwindle.