Please Don't Hurt Me

Chapter Twenty

His clothes were batter and dirty, as well as his hair, his tiny hands outstretched begging for food. Those pleading eyes held hunger, held hurt, held rejection. The tall man crouches unto one knee both his hands on either side of the boy's shoulder.

" What's your name?" He asked, his chocolate-toned voice biting the sniffle. The boy said nothing, his hands rubbing his flat stomach.

Passers-by glance in avoidance, wanting nothing to do with the situation. "Are you hungry ? " the man asks, the little boy rapid shacking of his head yes was enough. The man holds onto the boy's hands and leads him to one of the fast-food joints at the train station. He got a menu and told the kid to pick out whatever he wanted, the boy's pumpkin eyes gleams, his mouth leaking as he almost taste the images on the menu.

The man chuckles and wipes the corner of the boy's mouth with a tissue, after the boy orders, well points to whatever he wanted and the man ordering, the man takes out a phone, takes a photo of the boy, and google searches for the boy to try and find any information about him.

He could not find anything but a single newsletter. There was a boy smaller than the chocolate haired one, he looks very similar but the photo was dated in the newsletter was dated three years ago.

The man is drawn away from his phone to see the boy gone, he looks around the restaurant and sees no traces of him, he walks out and looks around to no avail. Though the man's caramel eyes could not find him the boy's pumpkin one taunts his figure as he hides at the back of the train.

The train huffs out of the station, momentum building and the whistle blows loud and clear. The winds pushing against it were no match as it slices through. The grass, on the other hand, bends and sways, and so do the leaves on the Eastern Redbud, its beautiful rosy-pink color pops in the peak of spring, though as now autumn dawns it is bleak and plucked out by the winds.

They flow from the outskirts of the city to the windows of the palace, where they knock and fall below. Inside the grand palace, Athena eavesdropped on her father and brother, listening to every detail, every whisper every muted emotion could be heard through the thick mahogany door.

Her red curly hair in an up-do bun the loose hair strands bounce like streamers in front of her emerald eyes, her concentrated brows furrow her bottom lip edged between her rows of pearly white. Her petite body leans against the door as her teal robe grazes the floor, her weight shakes the door gently and it creaks. She bolts behind the curtains draping over the windows.

Her breath fumbles in her throat as she muffles them quiet, her father already sensing her presence but holding quiet as he looks at his son. The expression was crystal as the room fell dead silent.

Allen watches in anticipation, his fingers crossed behind his back. The grand council man's words pounce in his thought, vigorously shaking his beliefs, isolating his darkest thoughts making them insignificant, like a penny to a hundred dollar note.

Edward grins in the corner, giving into his burden of catastrophic words, itching away his sanity and spewing the venom the curse breaths within him. His pierced lip blooms a smile as he twitches them upwards, his mascara running down his cheek in the thinnest line possible.

The black line fades into his cheeks, but the skyline draws thin as the sunset fades into the dark embrace of the cold night. The stars are like little white dots on a black canvas, it sees into the night every sway of the tree, every slumbering animal, every sitting house, and the train that puffs along heading west.

The steady engine cruise's along the tracks at speeds, one blink and you miss. The tattered boy huddles in a corner within the cargo, his tiny hands holding the sandwich the kind man bought for him. His pumpkin eyes focus through the small windows of the train, he watches the trees pass by and the stars follow him around, his battered clothes not enough to keep him warm.

He tries to remember who he is and where he belongs, the only thing he can remember is a soft voice cradling his fears, swooning his every thought to a sugary sweet embrace.

The moon hovers over, its crescent shape taunts the train as it never moves but has yet to leave it alone. The crew members check along the carts making sure the train complies with their regulations. A dining car service attendant pushes to the cargo cart, he was stressed, fuming with annoyance. His apron sliding in between his knees as he crouches down a cigarette in his limber finger, his right hand flipping the lighter, the tip glows a bright red and holds its color as he takes a puff, His golden hair falling behind his ear as he tilts his head back,