Stargazer - Segregation

Chapter Twenty - Lies Among Them

Rory is all alone in the Tavern, thinking about Alphonse how he called him Richard. His parents gave him his name when he was born; he changed it once he had the chance to. His cigarette smoke is slowly rising as he looks at his glass of vodka. He takes a decadent sip, sighing and leaning back into his chair.

"What's wrong, young man? You seem depressed." Asks the barkeeper.

His eyebrows descend as he looks at him. "What makes you think that?"

"Well," the barkeeper stops cleaning the glass and twists on his mustache. "Your body language is telling me that something is on your mind. If you want to talk about it, I will lend you two open ears."

"I don't need a head-shrinker. So no, thank you."

"Sometimes even someone like you should take advice or talk about their problems."

"What do you mean by even me?" he descends his eyebrows.

"You seem to be the toughest guy amongst the group, never sharing anything. I heard a lot in here, and I can tell that you never talked about anything related to your person."

"That's because no one needs to know," Rory's mouth corner forms a slight smile as his eyebrows jump.

"Okay," says the barkeeper. "Let me tell you a story."

"Oh no," he sighs and rolls his eyes.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Mitchell.

He has never done something wrong, never lied, and never lied for someone. One day, he walked home from school as he saw some girl beaten by some lads. He looked away, not helping her. The next day he saw her in the school, bullied by others for her looks, as her face was covered in bruises. He, as the only one, knew what had happened but never said anything. As he walked home, the same lads, again, beat up the girl badly. On the next day, the girl did not come to school. What happened? Mitchell wondered. The teacher told them that the girl had died; he could have saved her life if he said something.

The barkeeper tends to share some stories once someone has a problem. It should help them fix theirs, but all of those stories are, of course, made up on his own. He always claims them to be real events that happened just as he retells.

Rory looks at him; his questions are written all over his face. "And what should that tell me?"

The barkeeper looks at him and twists around his mustache.

"Think about it, and you will know the moral of the story."

Rory looks towards the wall. His cigarette is still left untouched. "You know. I can tell you a story that I know."

"My ears are open for you to listen."

A young boy at the age of eleven was abused continuously and badly treated by his parents. During that time, the only friend he had was a nine-year-old young boy who regularly ran after him. He followed him because the older boy helped against a few bullies once. Ever since then, he was the hero. The older boy always thought he was annoying and sent him back home, but the younger boy still cried. He felt terrible, so he befriended him.

One day, it was at dawn, the young fella was waiting with two lollipops at the playground, waiting for his older friend to come.

He did.

Covered in bruises and sweat, he fled from his family. Not asking what happened, the young boy gives him the lollipop; he grabbed him and ran off to the bushes to enjoy the treat.

Instead of asking, he just continued to enjoy his sweet treat. He knows asking would not make any difference; he wouldn't tell him anyway.

His father noticed them around the corner and dragged the older boy out on his short hair. He resisted, but there was no chance. The younger boy threw rocks at him the further he walked. The man stopped and hit the young fella with his fist until he cried on the ground, preventing the rock-throwing. He took the older boy into his car, closed the door, and drove away. The younger boy tried to run after, his tears fell, and he had no chance to catch up.