The third point of view:
"Hello mister, you must be here for the funeral," Israel was startled when a little boy came up to him out of nowhere.
He glanced down at him, blonde hair with blue innocent eyes, no sort of resemblance hit him. But why does it seem like the boy knew him, he could see it in his eyes?
"Am I in trouble? " Israel's brow raised at the amount of scrutiny the little boy was giving him.
"Punch,"
The strange boy lifted a tray to him and his eyes fell on the cup of chilled fruit punch. Speaking of which, Israel was thirsty and took a sip and at the same time watching the weird boy carefully.
He was getting level three creepiness, not enough to make the hairs of his arm stand on edge but enough to make him cautious. He stared at his environment, already plotting an escape plan mentally if he felt dizzy out of nowhere.
