kh_drabble | (no subject)

challenge: [193] destruction
title: three am aftermath
wordcount: 189
notes: hey, getting used to a new...self...and bod...it happens. i mean, not to me, because i'm not in a video game, but it looked pretty crazy in the story.

Sometimes you think about how you were the good kid, you know, the kind of kid whose mother told all the relatives Oh-he's-such-a-good-boy and whose friends said He's-so-strong-so-cool, A minus B plus, never straight As or then he'd be a little too good.

He was the kind of kid that, had there been a train, never would have taken it past midnight, because everyone knew that was when winos and thugs rode, the dying and the killers, and he was neither. He was an all-around champ, clever cool and someone else.

You don't remember his name.

Your hair is too long, it's dirty, and you're all in black. You aren't disgusted by the drunk or scared of the men with the blood-drop tattoes, because you are both. None of them think for a second you used to not belong on their train because you made sure the too-clever good kid is less then a ghost, you killed him, and made sure that no one will know was there.

Not that it matters - you'd be stupid to hope that someone would come looking for him so late after dark.