The Only Sound Heard

The Only Sound Heard

Dustin walked down the empty New York City street heading towards the school ground. It was early Decmber, and windy and cold outside.

The sun was just rising and casting his shadow onto the ground. It created something that he knew well. A thing larger than him stalking, preying on him. Although it wasn't an actual person he couldn't stand the feeling that there was someone there. He crossed onto the other side of the street and the shadow disappeared.

As he continued towards the school he could hear other children shouting and he began to dread walking any farther.

He scampered into the closest alley and leaned against the wall.

He didn't know what to do. He debated between going to school, and once again being taunted, picked on, and beat up or he could run away. He could leave; finally stop tolerating the nastiness of his fellow students. He chose the latter. He left the alley and headed away from the school. He didn't know where he was going but he had to get away.

He only had his lunch money for the day. He pulled it out of his pocket, a dollar fifty.

The boy started thinking of places he could go. He couldn't go home, or to a restaurant around here. The park, there was Central Park. That's where he decided to go. He figured if he got there he could sit and think without anyone bothering him and plan where to go next. So he set off in the direction of the park.

There was a strong wind blowing and it was pushing Dustin around. The sky was cloudy and it looked like it was going to snow.

Once he got to the next street corner he wasn't sure which way to go. There were people all around heading to work. They were wearing suits, carrying briefcases, and sipping coffee out of Styrofoam containers while impatiently waiting for the light to change.

Dustin pushed his way to the front of the group and looked across the street. All he saw was more people almost identical to the group on his side.
The light finally changed and everyone stampeded onto the street.

Dustin was pushed onto the ground. His glasses were knocked off and kicked back onto the sidewalk by oncoming foot traffic. His backpack was ripped open by feet and papers went flying every which way.

Everyone continued on the way, not noticing the child balled up on the ground afraid of getting stepped on.

They trampled on his backpack, and they kicked him.

None of them looked down.

No one cared about the little ten year old boy lying on the ground.

Once everyone had gotten across and the light was about to change Dustin jumped up, reached for his scratched glasses, grabbed as much as he could and sprinted across the street, tripping over the sidewalk and falling on his face, once again. His nose started to bleed. He stood up and walked over to a building. He slid down the wall, opened the front pocket on his backpack and pulled out some tissues.

He looked at what still remained in his backpack, a notebook, a few pencils, and a book.

But, he had lost all of his drawings, every last one. His folder must have opened up when his backpack was kicked.

He looked down the street filled with cars and taxis, and there, on the ground and in the air, all of his drawings, getting run over by taxis and trampled on by feet, being blown into faces and thrown into trashcans.

He put his school books on the ground, grabbed some more tissues out, put his backpack on his back and continued on his way.

At ever corner, the amount of travelers decreased and soon he was almost alone except for the occasional lone traveler.

He had been walking for almost an hour and it had started to snow. It wasn't too hard so he kept walking. But as the storm got worse and worse he started thinking about stopping and finding somewhere to get out of the snow.

He walked into an expensive clothing store and realized, after about two minutes, that the glares, the sideways glances, and the customers quickly walking out of the
store, were his cues to leave.

He walked out of the store and was hit by a strong gust of wind and snow.
The snow had coated the streets and the people were running from store to store.
It was dark out but Dustin wasn't sure if it was because of the snow or it was late. He glanced at a persons watch, 1:34.

"Wow, I should hurry up" he thought to himself.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking. He was completely lost and had no idea how to get to Central Park.

He saw a person walking towards him.

"excu..." was all Dustin could get out before the person glared at him and kept walking.

"Okay..." said Dustin. There was another lady walking towards him.

"Ma'am, can I..." she clutched her purse and started walking fast.

"But, no I... just...." sighed Dustin as she passed him by.

He started walking and hit another street corner. He decided to go left and maybe
find a sign that would tell him where to go.

The snow was coming down as hard as ever and he was walking right into it. He was freezing cold, and his eyes were stinging.

He bundled up his coat and hugged himself to stay warm.

There was a man standing outside of a store smoking cigarette and he decided to
ask him where the park was.

"Excuse me sir" Asked Dustin.

"Yes...?" said the man suspiciously.

"Do you know how to get to Central Park?"

"Yes, you go this way," he pointed straight ahead.

"Then that way," he said pointing right.

"Then that way," pointing left.

"Then you just keep walking, about 3 blocks, and you should be there."

"Thank you sir" He said gratefully. "Worst directions I've ever heard" he mumbled
after he was away from the man.

He followed the man's directions as best as he could but soon found he was very
lost. He found himself walking into an alley.

There was a walkway above and it was keeping the snow off of the road beneath. So he decided to stay there for awhile. He positioned himself under the walkway and as far away from the trash cans as he could.

He looked down the alley, it was very dirty and there were clothes on the ground.
There were cats milling around the trashcans waiting for the rats that where inside.
He got up and walked over to where he saw the cloths and grabbed the cleanest ones he could.

He decided to go to sleep for awhile so he could walk all night.
He used the clothes as blankets and went back where he was before.
It was hard for him to get to sleep because of the rats and cats and other bugs crawling around. But eventually he got to sleep.

He awoke to the sound of a siren of a police car.

He wondered if his mom knew he was missing yet. She probably just thought he went to a friend’s house after school.

He stood up and grabbed his backpack and he decided to try to find his way to the park again.

He left the alley and turned right.

It was still snowing really hard but it wasn't as windy as it was before.

There was a sign at a crossing up ahead. He ran to the sign and jumped to clean off the snow that had caked on it through out the storm so he could read it. It read "Central Park" and had an arrow pointing straight ahead.

So he walked ahead for about ten minutes but soon started to wonder if he was going the right way or not. But, up ahead, he saw lights illuminating a gate. He wasn't sure if it was the park but he headed towards them.

He got to the gates of the park and smiled. He had gotten to where he wanted to go, to Central Park.

He pushed open the gates and walked in. Although it was cold, and snowing it was still beautiful inside the park.

There were flowers covered in snow, trees without leaves, and lamp posts illuminating the snow as it fell to the ground, and lighting the path below. He decided he would walk through the park and think.

There wasn't really anyone around since it was so cold. He walked for about five minutes without seeing anyone. Then he saw a man and a woman walking down the path towards him. They were holding hands and talking softly. He walked by and smiled.

The man turned around "What's a little boy like you doing in Central Park at night" he asked.

"Oh, just looking for my mom. She should be on this path somewhere" lied Dustin as he looked around.

"Okay, well, be careful, there are some strange people around here" stated the man and him and the woman kept on walking.

He followed the path into the woods in the middle of the park. He saw a bench and decided to sit down.

The snow was starting to let up. As he sat there he started thinking about what to do.

"I can't go home I'd be in so much trouble. But, I don't know where I could go. I mean I don't know anyone around here. And I don't have any friend's houses I could go to. I hate that, I was always the one being picked on, beat up, everything. Why me? I didn't do anything to them. But they were so cruel to me... oh so cruel."

The more he thought the more his hate grew. He wanted revenge. He needed revenge. He had to make them pay for what they put him through. He didn't understand why they would do that, its not like he said or did anything to him. He walked into school one day and they all started on him. Even his friends! They had turned on him, made him the laughing stock of the school by telling them all of his deepest secrets.

"What can I do to get them back?" He thought. He wasn't sure what he could do.

He didn't want to do anything to drastic, but then again, them beating him up, stealing his lunch money, and making him cry on a regular basis deserved something drastic.

They had caused him to hate himself. To think that nothing he did was right. To believe that he could never be good enough to be liked by other kids at school.
He stood up and decided to follow the path the rest of the way he figured it would loop around to where he came in.

There was a bridge up ahead and he walked onto it. He stood at the peak of the small bridge and looked down onto the frozen stream.
He saw his reflection: a small child with brown hair that needed to be cut, bright blue eyes that glowed in the lamplight, a puffy red water proof coat covered in snow, jeans that were soaked at the bottoms and muddy sneakers.
He didn't see anything wrong with what he looked like but the children at school had another view of him.

To them he was the geek with the glasses, the one that didn't fit in. The boy who read too much, and liked to draw. The one that was different, that was simply it, he was different, and they didn't like it. They didn't like individuality, they wanted conformity.

That's when he made his decision, he would go home, and deal with the screaming and yelling from his mother, but tomorrow, he would carry out the perfect plan, a plan of sweet, sweet revenge.

He carefully walked down the small bridge and out of the park.

"Now... where to go..." he whispered.

He walked a few blocks this way, then that way, then this way again, but the more he walked, the more he began to wonder if he would ever get home. Then he saw it, his apartment building. His apartment on the 32nd floor was dark, no lights, no cops, nothing. Then he remembered, this was the night his mother worked late. He was off the hook.

"Phew... that was lucky" He sighed.

"A little late for you to be out isn't it," asked the concierge.

"Oh, well... I was at my friend’s house since my mom's working late tonight" quickly lied Dustin.

"Okay, goodnight sir" replied the man.

"Goodnight"

Dustin quickly walked through the lobby and over to the elevators. He went up to his apartment, opened the door, and quickly changed out of his wet clothes.

The clock read 8:39, twenty minutes until his mom got home.

He looked at the answering machine and the light was blinking.

He pressed the button; "three new messages" said the woman's monotone voice.

"Message number one: 'Hello Mrs.Manser, your son Dustin did not show up in
school today, please call and confirm that you are keeping him home today, thank you.'

Message number two: 'Hi Dustin, just wanted to make sure you got home okay, I guess you went over to a friends house, call me when you get back, love you.'

Message number three: 'Dustin, its getting late, call me as soon as you get this.'"
He erased all the messages and grabbed the phone.

"Hey mom, sorry I haven't called I just got home from David's house, we were out playing in the snow," fibbed Dustin.

"It's okay honey, I was just worried, please call me next time you're going to be late. I'll be home by nine love you bye" said the relieved mother.

"Love you too, bye."

Dustin went into the kitchen and opened the bottom drawer, there it was, his
mother's gun.

She had always kept it there, incase of an emergency. And in Dustin's mind, this was an emergency. It was either he dies, or they die, and he chose them.

"Now they will pay," he said maliciously "all of them for everything they've put me through."

He shoved the gun into his backpack and lay down in bed with a smile on his face.

He heard his mother come in around nine but he was too tired to get up and say hello. She came over, kissed his forehead, and covered him up with a blanket.

"Sweet dreams" she whispered and turned off the light.

The next morning Dustin was up and ready to go to school faster than his mom had ever seen.

"Excited for school today dear" she questioned happily.

"Yup, love you, bye" he yelled, putting on his coat and practically running out the door.

It was still snowing out, but it wasn't as windy.

As he walked, he saw his shadow was cast on the freshly fallen snow behind him,
but this time, he just smiled.

"I'm not afraid of you" he said softly to himself.

And there they were all the kids who had made his childhood horrible, all there laughing and playing.

He walked through the gate with his head held high and a smug look on his face.

"Well look who it is, Dustin Manser, thought you weren't going to show your face
around here again. How about I wipe that smug look right off your face" taunted the school bully, Curtis Millium.

Curtis was the one who started all the taunting, the one who punched him everyday, and took his lunch money. He was the one Dustin wanted.

Dustin said not one word. He turned around, opened his backpack, pulled out the gun and faced the crowd.

The look on Curtis' face was one Dustin would never forget. It was a mixture of fear, and a look that resembled challenge.

"He doesn't think I'll do it. Well, I'll show him" silently thought Dustin.

He smiled and pulled the trigger.

"That's what you get" he yelled over the sound of the gun.

Curtis immediately hit the ground.

No one moved, the only sound heard was that like drums, echoing through New York City, dampened by the peacefully falling snow.