Autopsy Of A Mind 48 Outtake: Howard Hunt 1

They say kids are ruthless, and they aren't wrong in a.s.suming so. Kids have no filter and say what comes to their mind. Their reactions are instantaneous, sharp and cutting in the face of polite conversation, and nerve-wracking when they ask embarra.s.sing questions. But what does that make of other kids who were forced to grow up too fast, who stayed in the corner doing absolutely nothing and watching as the others loiter around merrily and play? They became outsiders.

From an early age, Howard learned that if he stayed quiet and didn't make a fuss, no one would come to harm him. He followed this idea of his religiously until he entered kindergarten. His mother dropped him at school on some days and the others she would hand him over to the neighbours whose kids went to the same school. Howard quickly learned that life in school was different. The neighbours' kids turned demonic when at school, boisterously running behind one another and making new friends.

A cute looking girl in pigtails came up to him and started a conversation.

"What's your name?" she asked, her childish voice ringing in his ears. He didn't want to talk to her, he knew not to meddle in other people's business and this girl was not to his liking. He noticed the kids from his neighbourhood peering at him, more like glaring at him as he tried to avoid the girl.

Howard remained silent and waited patiently for the girl to think him uninteresting and move on. But she persisted.

"Can't speak?" she c.o.c.ked her head to the side and asked him. She was one of those kids that enjoyed talking to others, especially those that didn't gel well with the other kids. Her parents had taught her to be friendly, but she was unhappy that this boy seemed to give her no attention.

She was going to move forward when she heard a small voice reply.

"Howard." She clapped her hands, overjoyed to have finally gotten the reply.

"Let's be friends," she said. He shook his head, curling up into himself. His mother had warned him against making friends. They were dangerous, she had said. So he remained unshaken as the now sour-faced girl walked away, grumbling. He spared her a glance and saw the neighbourhood boys whispering amongst themselves, pointing at him and grinning.

He knew trouble when he saw it. He had never played with other kids before, but he knew they were loud and ugly and irritating, his father said so. He believed his father. He didn't want to displease his father, so he remained a silent boy, waiting for his father's approval.

The boys neared him, almost predatory. In their child bodies, they must have seemed harmless but they possessed the power to destroy the sanity of a human being.

"You like Lily?" they teased out of nowhere.

"No, he doesn't even have friends."

"My mother said his father is an a.s.shole. What is an a.s.shole?" one of the kids shouted.

Howard cringed back, knowing that the word was bad.

His father was a nice man. He only became angry when he drank or Howard spoke in a loud voice.

"Don't say that," he grimaced.

"What? Doesn't he beat your mom?"

"No, he doesn't!" he shouted, finally snapping. His eyes widened in shock as realization dawned. He had screamed. No one likes a loud kid. He slapped his hand over his mouth and felt tears blur his vision. The tears shed and rolled down his cheeks, his nose ran.

"What a weirdo," the kids muttered in different tones as they walked away, utterly bewildered by the actions of the placid boy who never dared fight back.

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