Child Innocence
I'm sat on a street corner, crying. Cars pass, 50mph down a 30mph stretch of road. It's cold; I left my coat behind in the heat of the argument. Apparently it's dangerous. It's 9pm. Autumn. People pass, they stare, automatically I'm forced on defense, thoughts running through my mind 'he has a knife'. Some blank out my still figure, sat on the roadside beside the church, guessing that some must assume I'm an alcoholic or drug addict, that's the way people think these days. A gang passes; I attempt a casual stroll down the next busiest street. They've done nothing to harm me or nothing to scare me but I'm intimidated. It's 2010. Once they have passed I move back to where I came from, glass cracked and broken at my feet, a home of obvious stories. Alone in the dark I begin to think of life before the crime and murder, the life when teenagers could walk the street at night, the life when a knife was a kitchen instrument, but actually, I'...