A typical 7:00 evening in Westbrook downtown, quite brisk and blustery. It was a swell evening, indicated by the pleasant sights of the people who roamed the city with their general walks. It was Tuesday, November 23rd, 2006; Only two days before Patrick's eleventh birthday. He was a naive fellow, yet responsible enough to know his surroundings and his whereabouts of the city. The atmosphere was filled with poignant winds and boisterous chatter of inhabitants of nearby houses circulating the city. Patrick would do his own evening roams around the central segment of downtown, as his parents only slightly trusted his awareness of safety and self-protection against strangers; But indeed, they decided to take his benefit of the doubt.
On this very evening, Patrick began to chase a Pomeranian dog that belonged to a certain resident that lived nearby the central part. The dog ran swiftly as Patrick trailed it with glee. As they ran past an ice cream stand, a man who was just about to receive a butterscotch swirl ice cream cone tripped upon the dog, as the ice cream fell onto the concrete. Patrick went passed the now agitated man, apologizing to him before continuing his chase for the Pomeranian. They had just been running for a short while, as the dog grew tired when it began panting heavily. The dog then took a swift turn to the left into an alleyway, as Patrick followed.
The trail towards the alleyway grew darker, as the nightly shade consumed the exit out of the alleyway. It was mere impossible to see the other side of the alley, but it was probably due to the excessive duskiness developed from the ticking evening hour. The Pomeranian sought an open garbage bin, as it hopped in it for the search of food. Patrick had seen the dog had done it, and already refused to go in the bin in search of the dog. With the assiduity generated from the ominous darkness of the alleyway exit, Patrick eyeballed it, as he was engrossed from it based on how obscure it was. It was a very unusual sight, and because it grew Patrick's curiosity upon what lay beyond the growing darkness, Patrick knew he had to unearth the dusk's secrets.
Pocketed in his leather coat, Patrick equipped a pocket lighter that belonged to his father, Luis Wayne. He had taken it clandestinely from Luis' bed drawer while he was sleeping, and figured it was a creative use as a torch. With the lighter in Patrick's hand, he guided himself towards the darkness that barricaded the other side of the alley, as he did not suspect anything ominous. A street rat then ran out of the darkness, as it only slightly startled him, yet he still held his grip on the lighter. He walked slowly towards this darkness.. until he heard a grim, whisper-like voice.
"Hello, there." The voice croaked.
It severely scared Patrick, as he lost grip on the lighter. It fell on a damp puddle, and it lost its light.
"Is anyone there?" Patrick called out in startled confusion.
"Right here. Don't come any closer, please." It told Patrick, as Patrick quickly turned at the dusk facade.
Patrick was aghast- who was talking to him, he had thought. His body was compelled by the voice to stay still, to not move a bit.
"How are you doing?"
"Who- Who are you?!"
Patrick began to get severely worried, and felt like he had to rush home. He thought of what he was tasked to do- so then he thought of continuing to speak to the voice.
"No need to be afraid. I won't hurt you a bit. I just need you to not get any closer towards the darkness, okay?" It reassured him in its grim tone.
Patrick was indeed reassured.
"Okay. Why can't I get any closer?"
"Because I don't want to hurt anyone by the way I look.. I know I could hurt someone really badly if someone were to see me."
"Oh... okay. I can't stay for long. I gotta get back home."
"Well then.. you shouldn't be leaving empty handed. How about a show you a magic trick?"
"Alright then." Patrick was now intrigued as he stepped back.
It stretched out both of its arms, as it revealed two arms that wore a dark colored suit. His hands were covered in dry skin, the skin you would see on the elderly.
Then it took its hands and clapped them together, as they were facing each other. It held its hands in that format for a short while, before pushing its top hand forward, and a paper kite flew from its hand. Patrick was appalled from it's trick, as Patrick caught the kite when it flew towards him.
"That was cool. How did you do that?"
"A magician... never reveals their secrets."
"Okay then. Well- I gotta get going so, I'll see you again sometime!" Patrick said to it in furor.
It did not reply back, but Patrick was distracted from the astonishment manipulated by the kite. That was very amazing, Patrick thought, as he returned home, thinking of telling his parents about the gift redeemed by someone exotic.
