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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2033570
He's young, he's just a boy. A boy with a fire in his eyes.
She cautiously treads along the sidewalk,
Chequered blue and white ribbon barely visible in the gloomy street,
She glances in every direction - watching every shadow,
Listening for the slightest sound as she searches.

Seeing a small movement from out the corner of her eye,
She speaks to her companions through a radio,
Then follows the scurrying footsteps into an alley,
Even in the night's darkness she's sure it's him; the runaway.

As he retreats into the shadows ,she catches a glimpse of his face,
By the dull glow of a nearby streetlight,
He's young, he's just a boy;
A boy with a fire in his eyes.

Then suddenly she feels a sharp pain,
She looks down; a knife is protruding from her side,
And her shirt is quickly soaking in blood,
But she doesn't even scream as she falls to the ground.

She lies there, motionless,
Her vision slowly clouding,
She can no longer make out the buildings' silhouettes,
From the faint purple glow of the city sky.

Suddenly she's aware that she's not alone,
And so she turns her head to the side,
To notice someone kneeling over her;
It's the boy with a fire in his eyes.

She lies there unable to say a word,
He just stares at her with a blank expression,
With hair framing his face;
A face that's young and wild.

Flashing lights reflect off the nearby buildings,
And the young boy stands as sirens approach,
Blinking once before silently disappearing,
Into the darkness once again.

She hears his soft footsteps leave,
But his presence still lingers,
And as the siren's wail grows louder she sees nothing,
But the boy with a fire in his eyes.
...
Flowers sit on a nearby table,
And a card or two above the bed,
And somewhere in the darkness she hears a sound,
Like a dull mechanical beep in the distance.

Slowly her mind comes into focus,
And she's aware of a searing pain in her side,
As she opens her eyes to white walls and bed sheets,
She finds herself in a hospital room.

A sound from the hallway catches her attention,
She watches as doctors wheel a bed past her door,
And on that bed she sees the young boy,
But the fire is no longer in his eyes.
© Copyright 2015 HannahChatelier (delta9 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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