《The Guy》


 My Mom Once Said

    When I was a little boy right about the age of fifteen, it was clear I was different than the other "normal" kids my age. I was strong, hard as a rock, but bullied for being as dumb as one too. My Mom didn''t live very long and even I could tell she was unwell by that time. She insisted that she was fine and mentioned how we didn''t have the money if she wasn''t. On my 16th birthday, she fainted and was brought away. The last words she told me before she died were,


    "I don''t want you to be one of them. Another one of those people that hurts others."


    All I could remember replying was, "I won''t Mom," before the line went flat.


    I decided that day that I wasn''t gonna be one of those people who hurt others, I was gonna be The Person who hurts others. I went from foster family to homeless shelter pretty quick, and from homeless shelter to the benches. My mind was in shock and my goal was still present: To become The Guy.


    I had never really tested myself before and knew that my abnormalities had caused nothing but trouble, but now I was going to use them. First, though, I would need a place to stay. Who else would take in a young, inexperienced 16-year-old than the McKinnys fast food joint that I watched from my bench all through the day and night? So I walked right to that old rusted steel door. The person behind the counter was taken aback and asked with a slight whimper,This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    "What would you like Mr o-or Sir?"


    "I want to speak to your manager."


    "Yes, Sir right away."


    The person behind the counter hurried through a door as if the store were being robbed. The manager arrived promptly and asked with slight annoyance,


    "Whaddya want?"


    "A job is all I''m looking for Mr. I''m young, I''ve got no money, and no place to stay," I replied back.


    " You? Young? Alright then," the manager said his tone lightening, "Why sure we''ve got a fine janitor position for you, come right this way!"


    I follow along to the back of the joint to see the most dirt I have ever seen in my short life. How was this place serving customers with all this grime and where was the health inspector? "Thanks," I mumbled, "Isn''t there an-"


    "Oh don''t be ungracious and get to work if you want it. Previous janitor didn''t last long. Hope you''ll do better."


    I now had a job. Or I did anyway. After a week or so and after a not-so-restful night on the bench, I went to work. I found there to be a different guy asking for the manager. A guy who hurts people. The manager once again arrived quickly to the scene to talk with the guy and I watched him hand over a lump of money to the other guy. A sudden bang rang out, and another, and another. All this I watched from the window. The guy had hurt people. I was going to hurt him back.

 A Guys Gotta Live

    I took off from the window and sprinted after the man. The one thing I was good at at school was PE but they stopped allowing him after I broke someone''s bones. I focused on the man and set my mind on catching him.


    My sudden, rapid footfalls seemed to alert the man who began to run away from me. He wasn''t going to get very far though, I was the best in my PE class and it wasn''t close. The man took a look back and hastened his speed, giving it his all. I caught up quick, and gave him a sharp blow to the face and several to the ribs which sent him to the floor. His heavy breathing became mixed with whimpers. Maybe he doesn''t deserve this, I could let him leave? I can''t do that though. I have a promise to keep.


    One sharp kick and he was out. A quick search revealed that he had a gun and a knife which he didn''t have time to use and my remorse for him lessened greatly. I hate guns and knives. Both would do just fine in the nearby trash can. The money he was holding remained in his unconscious hands. I needed the money and the store owner hadn''t paid me for last week''s work. This would be enough to afford a small place until I can find more.


    As I walked out of the alleyway, I noticed police walking about near the store. They can''t know I was there so I pulled up my hoodie and walked as discreetly as possible to where my backpack lay. I then set off down the street leaving my bench behind.


    "One room please," I asked.


    "Certainly Mr.?"


    "Mckinnly," was the first thing that popped into my head.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I hadn''t chosen the best apartment because I wanted the money to last. I needed it for other things as well. I was going to need a disguise now to hide my identity so I went over to the market and bought myself a ski mask. I''ve had a long day so I figured I''d try out my bed... And it was the best thing I have ever slept on since my Mom passed. I could deal with my mission tomorrow, but now I needed rest.


    The sun danced upon my eyes through the opened window. How long had I slept? After a quick trip to the bathroom, it was time to get to work!


    I walked out the door and into the sunlight and began to wander around the city looking for trouble. I reached a park that caught the sunlight so well and sat down on a bench. I watched the trees, the grass, the people, and the world. I thought I might have drifted off when I heard a shout. I looked around to see someone trying to rip a purse out of a lady''s hands. I got up and walked to the man.


    "What''re you doing?" the thief asked.


    I gave him a hard hit to the stomach that sent him flying. He got up and asked no more questions, instead preferring to run.


    "Oh thank you!" the lady said. "What is your name?"


    I had a mission to complete and knocked her aside to the ground.


    "What''d you do that for?"


    I kicked her sharply in the ribs and walked off. On the way back I tried to hide the purse I had nabbed. I needed the money.


    I walked up to my hotel and silently made my way to the room. Putting the purse aside, I slumped down into the single couch. My muscles didn''t ache but my mind did.


    The face of the thief first and then that of the lady passed through my head. Both were different but displayed the same feeling.


    Pain.


    How could it be that a criminal and an innocent were so different and yet still felt the same emotions? I, too, felt the same when my mom died. I didn''t have a mirror to see if the expression was there but I felt it.


    Pain is universal, felt by all.


    I laid down the purse on the table and thought briefly about eating some dinner. I''m not hungry, not anymore.


    That night, I didn''t sleep.