Okay you guys, I'm back. I had the craziest time this summer, two hospitalizations for self harm and eating disorders and a shit load of therapy. This one is going to be short and sweet. Something cute until I get in the mood to write a long one. I'm sorry for the long waiting for all of you that give a shit. I'm really am. Sorry! Enjoy please.
Chapter 4: The eyes of a child
Small. Kevin Levin was small. He was a rather scrawny kid with naturally thin limbs. He was a bit on the short side all his young life. He only weighted sixty pounds at the age of seven soaking wet. He was small, tiny, but not fragile.
The dark haired boy never was or would be fragile. He, even when losing, would fight. His mere existence was a struggle and this eternal problem leaked down to all aspects of his life. School was a never ending challenge. Not only was he the weird kid in the corner that never did any work he also never knew when to shut up. Most of his problems came up from a wise crack that was just a bit too rude to be taken as a joke. He came home with scrapes and cuts on his hands and face on more then one occasion.
His home life was a fight. He loved his mother and father. They were caring and kind. He could always go to them for a warm hug when he was frightened or a good laugh. He loved his parents but Harvey was not his parent. Harvey was a man, a stranger. He came in a few months after his dad had died.
Kevin, unlike his mom, preferred his dad's passing to be known as death. He didn't need sugar coated words. The blunt harshness of death, the dying, made it so real and clear to him. The boy never wanted to forget it. Euphemisms have an uncanny way of dulling memories. He was killed; dead and gone. He wasn't sleeping forever or lost. Kevin's father was dead. And Harvey was a replacement. No matter what his mother said, that's what he was. For this reason, and this reason alone, Kevin acted out. He used his powers where he wasn't supposed to, fought tooth and nail with Harvey on everything, and never went down easy. Replacements were not people. Harvey didn't and would never be able to control him.
But Kevin was weak. He could fight all he wanted, shock and fry every electric appliance in the house, but his fits caused no more then a rumble in the grand scheme of things. He was a child.
With tiny child eyes he looked down about the bird in his hand. His slim fingers wrung around it's small neck as tight as a vice. The panic in the animal's eyes was exhilarating. Here, atop his apartment building, he was big and strong. He didn't need to fight, he was already king. King of the filth that was his kingdom; king over all rejected scum. Here, he didn't need his powers to cause such lovely chaos. With raw strength, he closed the bird's windpipe. It cried and scratched at his fist but he wouldn't relent. He was king preying on his citizens as he saw fit.
The bird's head soon went limp in his grasp. Holding on for a few more moments, to make sure, Kevin released the bird. It's body fell lifeless on cool cement in a pile of it's own feathers.
Kevin was small but the bird was smaller.
Yeah...short simple and sweet. Lil' Kevin is a coocoo bird. I read up on signs of children sociopaths and it said that one of the tell tale signs were no remorse in animal cruelty. Pretty proud of this one. Leave a review if you don't mind. :3