Wings For The Jailbird

3. He Was One

Prologue pt.3...

He was one of the worst things that ever happened to me during my childhood. Fair enough, Killian Diesel was not worse than my parents' divorce or their neglect. But he came soon after.

I'm sure I was not the only kid that thought so. If you went out and asked everybody that went to the same school as Killian Diesel or that knew him from anywhere else, they'd tell you the same exact thing. He was trouble and not the cute bad boy kind of trouble. No, he was actual trouble, meaning the police showed up to his house at least twice a day. There was a time he had to go to school with one of those anklets that tracked his every move.

Yes, he was that bad. Picking fights, trespassing, burglary, posession of lethal weapons at the age of eleven and what not. He was really the worst child and teenager you could think of. If he had any friends back then, they'd probably be mafia or gang members. But he was never seen with anybody. Never ever, which was no surprise, since no one wanted anything to do with him. He was also older than everybody at school, teasing the little ones. Hard to believe that he was four years older than me. Retook every class he ever had. He just didn't care at all. Didn't care about anything or anybody.

Which was exactly why I didn't believe a word he was saying right now.

"I was in prison for five and a half years. For something I've never done." He started that casual conversation. I refrained from rolling my eyes, since he was still watching me, watching my reactions.
"I was at the wrong place at the wront time. Ever heard that saying?" He asked, not leaving any room to answer as he already opened his mouth again, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"I've heard it quite a lot. Even from those officers that caught me that night. They knew that I didn't kill that family. They knew damn well. But they had a scapegoat once they found me in the neighbourhood. And considering my criminal record, I was already going to end up in jail sooner or later. So they decided to do that then and there." He continued, standing up and walking into the kitchen.

I craned my neck to see what the hell made him leave in the middle of our conversation- or more like his storytelling, since you needed two parties to engage in a good conversation. He came back inside the living room a few minutes later. His big hands were holding an orange bowl and once he sat back down, I saw he had filled that bowl with cereal and milk, hopefully in that order. But with a sick guy like Killian Diesel- I wasn't so sure what order he prefered.

"Want some?" He asked, after moaning in delight as he took a big bite. My stomach grumbled and I glared at his misplaced attempt of a joke. He chuckled, shook his head and finished his bowl within a minute. To my disbelief, he stood up and walked into the kitchen again. I heard a few sounds and he came back with the same bowl, the same amount of cereal and milk. He would repeat that action three more times before he appeared to be sated and announced that by letting out a long and loud burp. All the while, he was acting like he did not just stop in the middle of his story. Like I was not even tied up in the same room.

"Where was I?" He asked after putting the bowl aside. He leaned back against the couch and looked at me again. As if remembering upon looking at me, he nodded.
"Right, so did you know that Penta still has the death penalty?" He asked, rubbing his side. I watched his face grimace in pain for a split second before he clenched his jaw and his steel hard gaze once again captured mine.

"I didn't. I thought that shit was long gone in Silverthorne. But hey, what do I know?" He asked sarcastically shrugging. His eyes narrowed.
"You probably knew that though. Like you know everything. Always the smart-ass. A wallflower yes, but always the one to talk when it came to facts. The one that knew everything. Well, I bet you didn't know that they planned on transferring me to Penta in two days from now." He said, standing up and stopping in front of me. He got on his knees, now being eye to eye with me.