Elliot stared at the little kid in front of him. He figured at most he couldn't be no more than nine and that would be pushing it. The young boy reminded him a lot of himself when he was that age. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander back to a night that he tried hard to block. A night that shaped him.
His parents had rented a cottage in wildwood for the summer. He was looking forward to building sand castle after sand castle and he was until that night. The night that his mother told his father that she was leaving him. Her excuse was that she needed to be free. When his father picked him up to protect him she grabbed his service revolver. He remembered his father laughing when she shouted she was going to kill herself. That had to be only the millionth time he had heard it. Then when he started to cry she fired the revolver at them. He remembered, and can still see it clearly till this day, the crazy look on his mothers face. He remembered wondering why she hated them so much and wanted them dead.
He shook his head to pull himself from the memory.
Thinking back now that was one of those nights.
