The sun beat down on a small young face of a male as his shadow stood taller than him, he looked up putting his bloddied hand over his eyes to stop the sun burning them as he watched the birds fly out of the tree near by, his gaze returned to his hands while he slowly finished wiping his hands on a white shirt now stained with blood.

Sirens peeked his ears and set off alarm bells in his head. Realising what he was hearing he desperately grabbed the shirt to wipe the bloody knife, feeling sweat begin to pour over the boys face (theres no going back now) he climbed out of the ditch that he had previously dug out days prior.

Flashbacks of him digging the ditch flickered through his head on repeat, followed by asking the other boys to go on an adventure with him.