What do you mean I can't beat people up?
After the bath Paulo got to his room to change clothes to greet his father. He disguised his nervousness with methodical movements and a blank face, but his heart was lit with the sentimentalism of a son coming back from war.
He sat, waiting. He picked his phone, an object that he missed in his time fighting in the other side. But as he navigated the social media apps, he only found boredom consuming his mind.
'How was that I spent most of my time on this stuff anyway? This is so boring.' He thought as he scrolled through his feed.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
The sounds of knocking came from the front door as a voice was shouting.
"Paulinho, open this door I have my hands full!" His dad shouted, as you got up quickly to open the door.
As you lay your eyes on him you feel even more sentimental, your father, a short man with a pot belly, the man who worked all day just to provide a living to you and your sister. He had various injuries that he accrued on the duration of his life of labor.
"Help me with the groceries." His father said, entering in his house with naught a single glance at him.
"Sure." Paulo said. He knew how things were in his family. There weren't much outward displays of affection between family members but in their hearts, they loved each other.
He got to the back of the car and saw that the quantity of bags was such that normally it was necessary to make two or three different trips to carry the groceries comfortably.
"Light weight baby!" Paulo shouted as he picked all the plastic bags at once. Who was him if not the chosen one, he could carry the boats and the logs.
His father watched his antics and shook his head.
"Stop with your nonsense and get going, we gonna go celebrate your birthday at the mall today." Said a much-consternated father.
"Right away." Paulo said with a thin smile.
Shopping Mall, at night, 3rd person pov.
On a moonless night a trio walked the streets of the city. Their appearances were common, a potbellied father in the middle and his children at his side.
At the right, standing taller than the father was a youngster that walked with the swagger of someone that owned the streets look any with way staring at the passerby's and spooking them with his gaze. That was until the middle-aged man in the middle slapped the back of his head.
At the left stood a little girl that watched all the shenanigans happening with laughter and mirth.
They were going to a pizzeria to an all you can eat buffet to celebrate. But not all you can see is merry and good. In the shadows stood a man watching the family walk by with nefarious intentions.
He, different to them, was out on the street to collect money from unsuspecting victims such as they. It was not the first family that he robbed today and probably would not be the last. He had to buy his fix today or he would not sleep peacefully so this was just business, nothing personal.
He stealthily approached the group, having considered that they were distracted by conversation to spring his trap. He put a plastic gun beneath his shirt to pass as a real firearm to hopefully scare them into compliance, and finally, just as they were turning a corner he shouted.
"Stop right there! Pass to me all you have right now an nobody gets hurt." Said the crook, lifting his shirt to show his deceptive gun in a show of intimidation.
The trio stopped in their tracks and looked at themselves. The young girl had a look of panic as it was probably her first time being confronted with the violence of the world.
The father put a hand on the shoulder of the panicking kid and raised his other hand as a gesture of placation.
"Calm down, we will comply don't do something drastic now." The father said, looking the thief in the eyes, remembering his appearance to later report to the police.
"I will now pick my wallet, Paulinho get your phone and give it to this gentleman here, no fuss." He said with apparent calm, he looked as if this was a common occurrence.
The crook was content with this cooperation, this was his favorite victims, compliant ones that didn't give him grief. As the father gave him the money in his wallet, he turns to look at the son that had approached to give him his stuff as well.
Only to be rattled, the look on this youngster gave him a surprise. This was a look that he is used to see on the faces of the veteran drug lords that he sometimes has to meet because he didn't pay his fines. His instinctual reaction was to put his hand on his dummy weapon to get the situation under control again.
This of course was a mistake, not that he could know, as the young'un saw this as escalation and with sudden acceleration took hold of the hand that the criminal put on the handle of his weapon.
"UH! GET OFF OF ME YOU PUNK! I WILL- "His words were cut as the kid stroke his nose with a headbutt. So sudden was his action that all parties were in shock.
"Son, what are you doing." The father asked as his son proceeded to choke the miscreant after broking his nose with his forehead.
"Relax dad, just call the police first." Said the much too calm to be in such a situation kid, baffling his father even more.
"Sigh, ok. But I will give you my word after this, don't think this is the end of it." Said the father, picking his phone off the criminal pocket where he put it before.
Mc pov (Some 30 minutes later)
'SHIT. What in the hell was I thinking? Now I have to explain to father this situation and even talk to the police.' He thought as he saw the police vehicle with the sirens lit, an officer talking with his father about the situation and looking at him from time to time.
The person responsible for all of this, the criminal, was in the back of the car with his head low and some cotton on his bleeding nose.
The police officer approached him together with his father and began to speak in a serious tone.
"Let me get this straight with you, You, a 15-year-old brat took that bum down" He said pointing at said bum "Alone and unarmed?" Said the officer finally.
"Well, he was threatening my family and had a gun, I move more by instinct as I practice some boxing." He said in practiced meekness, not meeting the eyes of the officer.
"Sigh…Son, what you did was dangerous, the weapon the criminal had was found to be fake but if he had a real gun, you and your family could be in trouble." The officer said in exasperation. He could not get mad at this brat; he was young at one point and its admirable to stand up for his family like that.
"Yes, don't worry officer I will talk to him when we arrive home. Is there anything more that is necessary of us?" His father asked the officer one last time.
"No, that would be the last thing, Mr. Manoel. Have a safe trip home, you and your family." Said the officer finally much to the relief of the unfortunate trio. The mood of celebration now ruined by the reality of their mortality and that violence is prevalent in every corner.
"Thank you, officer, have a good night." Father said one last time, putting a hand on my shoulder guiding me on to where my sister was.
'Sigh, what a long night.'
(Author note: Man, I miss writing like this sometimes. I don't have a direction to this story yet I just am going with flow of my imagination. If you have something to say or criticism, go ahead and just say it. You don't need to measure your words; I have thick skin. And give me stones.)