3 The Ghetto Prince (2)

It didn't take long for him to get it done. As he also daydreamed about living a new life in the countryside, it wasn't exactly boring either. A wife, a life, a daughter, and a dog. If he had all of the aforementioned, he would be happy.

Standing up, his hands reaching for the back, he untied his black apron and unhooked it from his neck. Afterwards, he placed the apron by the table, turned the kitchen's oil lamp off, and left the tavern through the back door.

Swing! Thud!

Between two buildings made of only sand, supported only by only wood, a figure could be seen walking out of the two buildings. An alleyway, rather. But from here, a pungent smell reeked around. You could smell the rot, as garbage laid all around. The smell of sweat, combined with this other one, he did not know of.

Also blood, that could also be smelt.

This, he didn't ask questions of. The less curious one was, the better. Getting involved with blood, would almost certainly lead to more blood. The gang members around here, surely that time of the year where, action, is flaring wildly.

The night sky blanketed the city once more. The sight by a simple face-up was truly beautiful. Stars could be seen everywhere, the occasional full moon also followed. The lackey always thought that the skies at night were much more gorgeous than the morning airs.

At his own pace, the lackey moved to the outing of the alleyway. Wanting to enjoy the view somewhere else, somewhere more pleasant. He did so also by avoiding any garbage from below. A dirty shoe is a dirty floor, and a dirty floor means more cleaning, the manager also said.

Tap! Slip!

Unexpectedly, however, as he walked, something had tripped him from below. As carefully as he walked, it was really out of his expectation how he tripped there.

It was a foot, someone's foot.

Dubiously, the lackey's gaze went to see who owned said foot. It was also then that he was met with the eyes of a little girl. Like the night sky, her eyes were of deep blue. They even sparkled with brilliant stars. It was pretty, but she was haggard no matter how you see her.

Her face, filled with wettened dust, brisk sand. The smell around her was also sharp, pungent like the garbages around her. Her hair; disheveled, messy, smelled like rotten fish, which made it even more worse.

Exposed arms and legs, over the open rag holes, also spoke of malnourishment. Tangy white spots all around, and you could even see her down to the bones. Yet, despite all that, her eyes just kept mesmerizing him. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to leave. He wanted to get closer to her, to get a closer look.

But it was then, the moment he stepped a little closer, he was snapped out of the trance-like feeling. The voice of a boy soon emerged.

"Wach wher' ya'r goin, ya punk" The voice seemed to have, pierced the silence, making the lackey a bit jumpy. It was weird really, because it didn't seem like he noticed anyone, anything else aside from the two of them. But then again, he didn't notice the girl before either, but that was just because her entirety was blocked by this large garbage bin.

The lackey turned to see where the voice originated from, as it evidently, did not come from the little girl.

"Wha' ar' ya lookin at..." A boy, 10-odd years, sitting in a pile of trash which made him uncomfortable somewhat. Unlike the little girl, the boy was just straight filthy. Thin to the bones, farther than even the girl. But his stench, bit better than the girl's. Normally, he'd just ignore these sort of people, but this boy was a bit different.

The boy stared at him. Unlike all the other street boys he'd seen before, their eyes rather, the ones that befell on him were of glaring daggers. They weren't sharp, clearly. But they weren't sheathed either.

That was weird really. Because kids weren't supposed to have these things. Well, not yet at least.

His gaze, it was as if it was telling him to 'One step closer, see what happens', or maybe it just told him 'Fuck off'. He didn't really know. Either way, however, he couldn't tell. So with a forced smile, he raised one of his arms and extended his hand forwards.

"Fuck you..." The lackey middle-fingered that boy, as he found him to be quite a dick. He stared at those brown eyes of his, in disdain. The result of which, made the boy speechless of the sort. It was like he wanted to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat for some reason.

Snickering by himself, he moved out of the alleyway, not looking back what so ever. It was as if he had forgotten about the little girl's eyes, the trance-like sight he had seen.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Trying to make himself look cool, even though, he really wasn't.

"Wha' a dik..." The boy muttered out. Sitting in this pile of trash below him, he slept nice and cozily. Compared to those other sour wastes, the ones he sat on are the ones that are not-so smelly. He separated the bad ones from the good ones.

Seeing something move from the left corner of his eye, he turned to get a better look.

"The fhuk are ya lookin a' me for?..." The boy glared at the little girl. Grabbing the rotten tomato on his right, white ickiness could be seen around the tomato, but still, he threw it at her. The tomato flung out of his palm, giving it some white before it left as well.

Splat!

Directly on her face, the red-white tomato reeked of something even worse than puke. It slowly dribbled downwards, eventually flowing down to her mouth. All this, yet she didn't say anything. Like some sort of idiot, the girl just kept gesturing him.

Tears followed the dribbling red.

Slowly, her eyes became comparable that of the spoiled tomato's color. Whether or not it was because her eyes got irritated by the tomato's rotten insides, or maybe it was because she was genuinely crying. But in no way, did the boy care. In fact, he just got angrier at the sight of her crying.

"Hhah, what a bhaby. Wha' are ya? Mammy's lit'le gurl?!? Go fhuck yorselv, you little whore!!!" The boy shouted at the little girl. He was so angry, that even his brows were wrinkled, and his forehead with blue veins showing. Just like what that lackey did, the boy raised his left fingers to form that of a middle finger. Even though he didn't really know what it meant, he was sure, that it was definitely offensive somehow.

Just as he was about to throw another rotten smush to her, he didn't. Unusually, he felt a tiny bit pity for the girl, so he let her off today with just that tomato.

Sitting above the makeshift, soft garbage, he laid himself down while his head faced up the sky. Looking at the stars above him, in that little gap between those two sand buildings, he pulled up his paper-like blanket before shutting his eyes closed.