It was November 16 when Billy Turner was officially turning 8. It was a school day and he was just out in the play ground playing with his secret crush little Mary J. when a man in a black suit and shiny dark shades appeared at the playground beside the second grade teacher, Mrs. Clayton. The man took off his shades to reveal a pair of dull grey eyes.

The man introduced himself as a friend of Billy's Dad. Billy has never met this mysterious man will grey eyes before. Despite being reminded time and time again by Mr. Turner to not talk to strangers, Billy packed up his school bag and followed the mysterious man whose name was unknown.

They walked down the street away from school to a dark corner. A dirty jeep was parked at the curb and Billy followed the man into the vehicle. Billy was too much in awe of the mysterious man and his mysterious jeep to notice that at the backseat, sat two other men with scars and messy stitches. Billy's imagination ran wild and he thought the man had super powers and the jeep could fly like the blue one in Harry Potter.

The man brought Billy to a secluded park near downtown. With his shades perched on the bridge of his nose, the man helped Billy down and brought him to a concrete bench.

"Billy, do you know why you're here?" the man asked. Billy cringed a little from his breath as it stank with alcohol. Billy was too young to know that the man was drunk.

Billy shook his head and looked down at his feet. He was never good with eye contact.

"Well, Billy," the man started, crouching to Billy's level, forcing Billy to look at him. "Your Daddy has been a very bad man."

Billy's Dad was never bad! He brought Billy to eat ice cream and taught him how to fly a kite. While his Mother baked apple pies and cooked the meals, Billy's Dad would teach him how to ride a bike and cleaned his scratches when he fell. Billy was shocked at the man's statement and shook his head vigorously. "No!" he cried, determined to change the man's impression on Billy's dear Dad. "Dad's a good man! I love him!"

The man's face turned a deep scarlet and his hand connected to Billy's cheek with a loud slap. Billy fell to the ground from the impact. The two men got down from the jeep with some wooden planks in their hands.

One of the men, bald with a tattoo on his face handed the man in the suit a plank. The man started hitting Billy with the planks, showing no signs of mercy for the poor 8 year old boy.

Billy cried and yelled from help, but the passerby's ignored him and went on their way to do what they needed to. They were all too afraid to get too close in case they got harmed.

Billy's eyes hurt from the tears and he could feel the blood trickling down from his temple. His throat was sore from the yelling and crying and his body was full of bruises.

The second man who had spiked up blue hair took a sack out and Billy was dumped into it, his body curling up in fear. It was pointless, no one could save him now. His head throbbed from the pain and his whole body hurt from the gashes and cuts. He was slowly getting tired and had an urge to sleep.

Just for a little while, he said to himself. Billy's eyes fluttered close for the last time.

YEAH I WAS BORED :D