Silhouettes - Three

The black night gleamed, and the dark clouds poured upon all the souls that were walking down the dank, dirty street.
Unfortunetly, there was only one.
The boy shifted his weight, his knapsack soaked with Ho. The night mood matched his own.
Kicking a pebble with his soaked sneaker, it splashed into a puddle and hit him in the face.
What did I do to deserve this?
The sky mocked him with its loud voice, its lights flashing, sending his adjusted eyes into overdrive.

The man peeked out of his peephole, and exclaimed in shock.
He flung open the door and let in a dripping wet, puffy eyed boy. The boy eyed him painfully.
What are you doing here?
The man peered at the boy, waiting for a decent answer.
My father's an ass.
Decent enough.

The man slammed his fist upon the table, sending waves of pain through his tired, uncaring body. The nerves in his hand throbbed, but his head throbbed more. The dent in the wall was not going away either.
The power flickered off for a second, before coming back on, sending the phone machine to go funny. The man swore at the empty house, like it was its fault that the storm outside was out of control.
The man felt weird.
He knew he should be worried about his son, but he wasn't. He, in all honesty, did not care whether his son was okay (or alive).
Was that wrong?

The wife made up the guest room, muttering to herself.
Why were her and her husband taking in a child who's mother ruined their marriage?
Because she was a good person.
The woman stepped lightly out of the guest room, calling down to the teenager who was sitting in their living room.
His bed was ready (in the ground)
She hated the boy, despised the boy.
The offspring of the woman who ruined her marriage, sleeping in her house.
Oh, the irony.

The siren wailed, the lights flashed.
What had happened? [Who had died?]
The neighbours peered out of their white, innocent drapes. Their front doors shut and locked, their faces pressed upon the window pane.
Weee-ooh, weee-ooh, weee-ooh.
The noise pierced the night sky, and skidded to a halt infront of The House.
The house of the dead cheater.
The house of the cheater's now-dead husband.

im supposed to love you.
Do what you do best.
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<3