Aaron, November 24, 1877, City of Forham
"Father!" I scream. "Let go of him, please." My begging doesn't affect him, I learned that long ago.
"Why? So you can skip your work again and run around with him?" My father yells back. His fist collides with Adam's jaw and I flinch. Blood flows out of Adam's mouth and bruises and cuts could be seen on his small, frail body.
"P-please stop," Adam whimpers. My heart breaks at the sight of him. My only friend, the only person I love, is getting beat up because of me. It's all my fault. It was foolish to have skipped work to give him some food I found today. Unfortunately, my parents found us. I would expect them to hurt me but I think they got bored of my pain.
My brother's grip tightens on me when I attempt to fight back. The only thing I can do is shut my eyes and cry as the boy I care about is beaten to death. My brother pushes me away when the painful screams stop and I open my eyes to see Adam in a puddle of his own crimson blood. Crouching in front of him, I brush a bloody lock of hair away from his eyes. His heart has stopped beating because of my parents.
"They don't deserve to live," I mutter as I pick up Adam's corpse. "No one deserves to live. The world will pay the price of your death."
~
Thx for reading
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His Weapon
FantasyHe was born without any power. So he stole it. She was born with a gift, the gift to control natural elements. So he stole her. Short Story This book is for all because only the name (Aaron Warner) was used in my story
