Five minute innocence

A story I wrote in five minutes for a contest.

He walked home from the bus all by himself. The wind blew like a lion, roaring in the night. Knowing he couldn’t go home, he walked the streets. Mommy said he is only allowed back after Daddy is asleep. Hunched over to keep from cold, he wanders all alone. The street lamps provide little comfort, for in such a small town, there’s nothing but street lamps around. You could be right under one and someone could still kill you, and you would still die. This reality was very alive in the little boys mind. Every shadow was a robber, every whistle of the wind was a click of a gun, so frightened, he runs. He’s wasn’t sure what he was running from, or where he was going to go. All he knew is that where he lived was a small town where no one wants him. Maybe in a city or even the suburbs, someone would take him in. He had five dollars his sister had given him before she fled the house, crying from a beating her daddy had out on her after her boyfriend left the house. With five dollars, the boy ran to the nearest store, bought a bus ticket out of town, and headed for the door. “Boy, aren’t you a little small to be on a bus all by yourself,” the shop keeper called as the little figure slipped out into the night. “I’m a man now, tell my mom I’ll be alright,” he called as his tennis shoes hit the ground. The shop keeper raced for the phone, but the boy was already gone. He was used to running fast, the mean kids at school had taught him that. The boy was crafty and street smart because he had to be to escape his daddy’s fists and muddy boots everyday after three. “I have all I need,” he thought to himself as he climbed the stairs of the bus, the doors closed and the bus took off out of town. No one knows what happened to Johnny, but they know his childhood is gone. And there are some that say it never was.

Author's Note

Please keep in mind it was typed in five minutes, I didn't have time for grammar or punctuation other then the basics.

Reviews

[JP thinks the WC is apt..]

I think five-minute fiction is all about the denouement, and yours is poetic and resonates beyond. It's tragic and filled with a certain, saddening chill.