XAVIER:
A TRIP INTO THE PAST.
****
Under the starry night, the eight-year-old wanders. Little feet as soft as the silkiest of fabrics patter across the wooden planks under his bare toes. He wore a light blue worn-out sweater over white shorts. His curly brown hair tousled and covered his face, but it wasn't enough they hide the pain etched into his features, nor could the fading moon hide the tears spilling down his cheeks.
My eyes followed his every move like it was their duty, a curse placed upon them. To follow the boy who is always sad. The boy who never smiles. The park was empty, except for a few no-gooders moving about and creeping behind trees, but the eight-year-old didn't seem to mind how dangerous it was to be wandering alone in the pack at night.
He stopped walking and I watched from behind the trees, fingers digging into the tree's bark. I watched him look up into the sky, his head tilting to the right as if he were listening to the night wind with eyes watching the shimmering moon above.
Breathtaking.
I shook the thought away and looked on, I saw him walking a little further down the park and then he began to lower himself down onto the grass. He sat down and this time he looked at the moon from the little puddle of water in front of him. The park was getting darker, and people were disappearing one after the other.
I should have gone home too, but I couldn't leave him there alone. I needed to make sure he was safe in my sound, and so I kept my eyes on him.
I hadn't planned on showing myself to him until I saw an older man walking toward him from behind. He didn't know that a creeper was nearby, his attention fixed on the puddle, the stars and moon reflecting into the small body of water like a celestial mirror.
I knew I had to do something. I had to help and so I emerged from my shadows and began walking toward the boy, and when the creeper man saw me coming, he halted and immediately turned the other way and ran.
It is not safe for you to be out here by yourself. I muttered in my head as I neared him.
He noticed me and raised his head, a small smile played on his lips and my heart melted. He was eight at the time and I was ten, I didn't know what it was that I felt but one feeling stood strongly above all else.
And that was to protect him.
"Hello," he waved at me with a smile and I blinked multiple times, not finding words to say back to him. "Look," he pointed into the puddle and I looked.
No wonder he hadn't noticed the creeping man from before, the puddle held a perfect image of the moon and starry sky. I never knew that a reflection could be so beautiful. I began to lower myself down and soon I was sitting at the other side of the puddle facing the boy and keeping watch over him.
"It's beautiful," I whispered, looking into the puddle. "It is so late, why don't you head home?" I asked, and I didn't miss the way his lips curled into a painful smile, nor did I miss the way he had immediately reached a hand forward to pull down the sleeves of his sweater as if to conceal something from my wandering gaze.
The sadness and hopelessness on his face were too much, and my shoulders slumped down. I didn't need to pry too hard to know what he endured and what he went through. I knew him. I understood him. Maybe I am the only one who ever truly does see him.
All others just judge him and neglect him.
Why was I so invested in him?
A question that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
"What is your name?" he asked, not responding to my initial question.
"My name is Xavier," I told him and I saw his face lit up, a twinkle flashed across his iris and I couldn't help but smile tenderly at him. It was the first time I had seen him smile.
"My name is-"
"Jimmy, I know," I told him and he looked at me with wide eyes. "I see you at school all the time," I explained.
He shook his head and nodded, "Do you go to my school?" he asked and I smiled.
"Sorta," I replied and he giggled smoothly. "We even share a class."
His brows furrowed and he asked. "Same grade? But you look older than me."
I smiled and nodded. "I'm ten, but something happened so there you have it." I know it was a very bleak explanation but there is no need to bore him with my life. He has enough to deal with even at his age. Silence prevailed once again and we resumed to stare into the puddle. "Make a wish," I murmured as I watched the boy mesmerized by the reflection of the starry sky in the puddle.
"I wish to be happy, I wish to be free and most of all, I wish that the one talking with me stays with me forever." He murmured, with each wish he spoke a fire sparked within me.
With each wish an intense anger bubbled, fueled by the helplessness in his voice. With each wish more and more emotions burned inside me. Anger, hurt, frustration, and sorrow. It was all the same, all the while I couldn't stop staring into those big emerald eyes of his. I rarely care... No, let me rephrase that, I never cared, human emotions were something I mastered to emulate. Most of which I am still perfecting. I was not one to feel feelings, that side of my brain died alongside the death of my parents, and for years as I grew older I knew that something had changed within me. A demon was awakened inside of me, one that loathes this world and all that is in it.
All but the boy sitting in front of me.
I smiled and began to rise to my feet, his gaze followed my every move and when I came to stand beside him, offering him my hand to take, he hesitated but took it nonetheless. I pulled him to his feet and ruffled his hair playfully, making him laugh. "You are strong, don't you ever forget that," I told him and he nodded but said nothing. "Come on, I'll take you home." His breath hitched but he obeyed and followed me.
As we walked down the lonely path, I turned to look at him. He was chewing on his lower lip nervously, and I think I spotted blood, and I knew he was afraid. He didn't want to go back. He didn't want to be there. But he has to. For now. It is the only safe place I know he could be. I know how useless the word safe sounded at that moment, but I know what I meant.
Once we arrived at his home, I stood aside and waited for him to enter through the little gate. And as he walked into the gate and stood behind it, his hands grabbing onto the little wooden gates, his eyes glued into mine, he asked. "Will I see you again?"
I didn't have an answer to that and I didn't want to leave but one thing remained clear. "I will always watch over you," I told him and he nodded, without another word, he turned and made his way to the front door. I waited, lingering by the fence until he had disappeared into the comfort of his home.
But could that even be called a home?
And just as I had thought, the lights came on, and then the yelling and the sounds of beating.
They will pay greatly for laying a finger on the boy who makes my heart feel alive.
I am going to do whatever it takes to protect him from this world.
Until the end.