In a dusty old shack out by the woods, a young man lived with his Grandmother in a time of dire need. His parents divorced, each going separate ways when he turned 5. He knew he would never see them again. But, one day, he was fed up with it. His grandmother constantly abused him, she raised her voice for almost no reason, and if; it was for a valid reason, it was something small. Humans make mistakes. He knew that. But now, it was time to revolt against the abuse. While the grandmother was asleep later that night, he searched through the house for a phone. He looked everywhere, but the windows and door were locked, along with a rope tied to a door. That was the Grandmother's stash of books. He carefully untied the rope very slowly and carefully so the Grandmother wouldn't hear, and boom. It opened right up, with books falling out. The creaking of the door sounded very quietly and he immediately saw a phone book. He grabbed it and ran toward his bedroom. He locked the doors and soundpadded the room with pillows. No noise sounded loud. He reached into his pocket for his grandmother's home phone that she left on the couch. Nope, just gum. He reached into his other pocket and found it. He turned page by page, looking for someone to call for help. Then: he immediately put the phone book down. He could call his school friend to rescue him! But it would be risky. As he dialed the numbers, there was a creaking down the hall. It was his grandmother! He put his hand over the sounds, and dialed quietly. Then, all of a sudden, there was a loud scream. So loud. He was afraid to look, but he peeked out the door, and there it was. The grandmother tripped over the books, injured. He didn't know whether to help or not, so he just waited for her if she got up. She didn't. She was gone.
He checked for a pulse, but it didn't appear. He was honestly worried about whose custody he would go in. Adoption Center? Worse. He picked up a piece of paper that looked like a ripped page from a book, but it was his grandmother's will. He sounded relieved, as he would go to his neighbor's custody. But the neighbor was a 37 year old girl with one daughter. He was happy SOMEONE had experience with handling children. Apparently, the scream was so loud, cops arrived. Obviously, he was so scared, he hid under his bed. He didn't want to be in trouble for murder! He didn't know. He dropped the phone from his hands, and then a cop opened the door. Ringing went off. Meanwhile, he dialed the last number and screamed "HELP!". He hung up and the police officer was puzzled. Where did the sound go off? Then, it happened. They saw the dead body. Something wasn't right: In a whole matter, it was horrible: The police officer died! How could it happen? A paper flew by saying "Beware of ______" (______ being blotched out with ink). It looked like a K. Meanwhile, his friend peeked out the window. The child ran out the house, with neighbors in the neighborhood staring at us. So many screams took place, it isn't funny. After all this, in ONE day, he seemed like he wasn't meant to be born. He was an accident. But he would never know. To himself, he was a pile of scrap. The child bunked in secretly with his friend at his house, and then he had to go to school. He was nervous on how he would act. Sweaty, scared, and stupid, he bit his nails right in front of the kids in the cafeteria. Teased by a few #SWAG and #YOLO kids, he was angry. He ditched school, and his friend was rather upset, looking back at his face. Disappointment everywhere, not a wrinkle saying otherwise.
He was brave, leaving school like that. Not a teacher outside, and not even eating anything but a cheese stick. He ventured on, with an old map he always had in his jacket, including his parents address. He wanted to see them again and tell them what happened, but he never knew chaos would arise like it did. Then, he looked across the street. A thug had robbed a helpless person! He had papers fly out of his coat while running. The child chased after the thug, and he pulled out his gun. Pages flying in the child's face, there was an "A". So "KA". Then, he dragged someone out of a car. "R". Could this be a sign of my grandmother? Her name was Karen. Possibility? Yes. Danger? No. He was determined to catch the thug. Then, a truant officer drove right by the child. The officer sped up to the child. He ran off into bushes, while the truant ran after. The car had cruise control and was still on, and when the car was driven, the brakes stuck. The thug could not stop. He hit the truant, and the the mean thug went through the window, with an "E". It had to be Karen, and it was so weird? Why pages? Then, the unthinkable happened. The F.B.I surrounded him. "I was the thug, or at least, that's what the FBI thinks..." trailing off his voice. They grabbed him by the arm and stuffed him in a van. Danger? Yes. Possibility? No. Not a chance.
All the child remembered was it was dark. It was windy and cold. They stripped him of his one weapon (cheese stick wrapper) and they looked for clues around him. They took him into the building for analysis. He really wished his grandmother wouldn't have died. But, alas, he is good with bad luck. They found fingerprints of more humans. They searched with matches. A "Karen Cobbler" appeared. His grandmother. A "Joseph Jacksons" appeared. The thug. Then: he saw. The person who murdered his grandmother was the thug! He also realized a cop was hurt too. Then, it suddenly happened. The thug was captured and walked in. The child ran behind the guard's back and pushed him. The guard snatched the child up and put him down. The thug elbowed the guard and continued. He said "You're next." The thug grabbed a guard's gun, each fighting over it. They tried shooting each other, as it was in their hands. Then: the guard was shot down. The main guard turned over and tackled the shooter. The main guard was pistol whipped and landed on a rather horrible button. It shut down the power. Being blind, the boy was aware he was in lots of danger. The thug shot at the child. He missed and hit a screen. Gases pushed out. Then, the thug ran out the building chasing the child. He shot again, which was his final shot. It hit the child and he fell down, wounded. He limped and held his ankle as he fell down, passing out. His eyes closed out, but before dying, the thug pointed the gun at his head. At that exact moment, an angry guard shot him in the back, making him tumble over the boy. He reached his arms out to push him. But, the guard wasn't done. He pointed his gun at the child, and then there was a spare bullet and a gun. He quickly loaded it, and was shot, again, but in the other ankle. He was paralyzed and didn't feel it. He shot the guard, and turned over. After everything, the thug slowly crawled over toward the child and squeezed his ankle. He looked up as his blood leaked out. He screamed, and a squad car was around the corner. They looked over, and saw the abuse. The cops drove fast, but not fast enough. The child was gone, but something abnormal happened: it was amazing. He dreamed before he disappeared, and faded away. There were dreams following.