Rain washed over his body as he lay there on the dirty floor of an alleyway, forgotten by the world and even assumed to be dead by the last few who knew him.
He knew, to be honest. He knew his boss had sent him on a suicide mission in order to get rid of the pesty kid that Gary is...yet the blond didn't make an effort to refuse the job.
Who was he to refuse it anyway? He was all but junk, he should be thankful he came of use at least once.
Yet, as he lay on the freezing and wet floor, his hair stuck to his face as his eyes gazed up at the grayish skies, his hand still held tightly onto the object his boss had been attempting to steal.
The plan was simple, even Gary saw right through it: use the kid as a distraction.
Least to say, it didn't work out.
At the very last moment, Gary had been shot in the leg by some cop.
Where most might have assumed they were dead, as you need your legs the most when living in the streets like Gary, the boy felt a wave of rage take over him.
Who were these pricks to decide qhen he dies?
So despite the pain, he grit his teeth as he forced himself to steal the damned object his boss tried so hard to steal- the object that was supposedly traded for his life.
Ironic.
With this, he can buy some food or even a warm jacket...some new boots that fir him just right would be nice...
...
But he just layed there on the dirty floor of an alleyway, forgotten by the world and even assumed to be dead by the last few who knew him.
Not a glint of hope despite the treasure that was, quite literally, in his grasp.
Using the last bit of his strength, he dragged his hurt leg as he stepped out of the alleyway. He forced himself to cross the road until he was looking down at the endless abyss that was beneath the bridge.
First, he threw the damned object, watching it glint as it fell- slowly disappearing from his sight.
Gary swayed in place, looking down at the flying vehicles and waiting for the floating lights to turn red.
Slowly, he climbed over the railing, grunting out small whimpers of pain just before there was nothing protecting him from the abyss.
Red.
The cars came to a stop and Gary Goodspeed took his chance to let go of the rails and fall without an interruption.
It felt as if everything were moving in slow motion. A fluttery feeling as his organs moved against gravity, his eyes watering at the strong wind- forcing Gary to close his eyes at last.
"I'm so tired" he muttered to no one in particular, the wind cancelling out his words as the ground finally drew nearer.
Pain.
It was quick, there was a crushing sound just before there was nothing...
"The Gary" a voice spoke from the nothingness
"I did not give you permission to die yet"
And by some miracle (or in Gary's case, a curse) the boy opened his eyes.
Screams of agony pierced the air, as the young Goodspeed clutched tightly onto his head- where the ground had hit first.
No blood.
No injury.
Just the pain of death and a scar on his forehead as a momento.
