The night sky was seasoned with hundreds of tiny stars and the air — ah the air! — scampered  through the empty streets of Transylvania, knocking on every window and door waiting for an invite – but that wouldn’t happen tonight, as all the families were currently fast asleep in California king-sized beds tucked under silk sheets. Over in Piedmont, the thin air seemed  to harmonize with the whistles of one lanky teenage boy as it danced through cobblestone streets. George, with his battered up shoes, just couldn’t help himself when he took one look at the clear night sky and decided to go out for a walk. This would have been acceptable if only it hadn’t been the troublemaker of the town going out for a walk. Most people in Piedmont had learned to accept their fate as the lower class and the constant taunting but that was about to change tonight and all because of a 17-year-old boy out on a stroll.

This unspoken split between the financial classes had been alive as long as George’s parents. The rich and poor hadn’t mingled much and stayed in their own respective towns for the most part. Except for the parts where the rich thrashed the poor’s neighborhood and looked down upon them as a whole. But George set out to  finally ensure the revenge that had been bubbling up inside of him and the town for years.  He set out for the nearest shed he could find and slung the bag full of spray paint over his shoulder.

But just shy of one of the streets the stink of something smoky fills his nostrils, stopping him in his tracks. He slowly moved forward and was left stunned as he saw a thick cloud of smoke blanketing the skies. George stood there in a shock, unmasking his terror before he ran off in a sprint towards the house. George knew that the house was occupied by not only one of the richest families, the Hargeeves, but also 2 young children. George didn’t think twice before rushing into the fiery house when he witnessed the family’s 4-year-old son missing from the arms of a crying mother.

The black, steel door leading into the house was locked, so he kicked down the door to get into the house. George stumbled up the stairs as his lungs were slowly losing the battle against the ferocious fire. George pushed open the last closed doors with his bare hands masking the feelings of knives piercing through his arms. That is when he saw a figure with dinosaur socks on and he didn’t think twice before throwing it over his shoulders and running out. It seemed as if he was dancing with the fire as they both took turns spinning through the house both looking for a way out.    

Exhausting the last bit of energy he had left in him, George pushed through the gateway enveloped by fire and dropped the unconscious child into the tender arms of a somber mother. George lay gasping on the road as the air worked to heal his oxygen starved wounds. Like an aggressive herd, the wind rushed to bully the fire to greater heights, bringing everything down to ashes. George tore his eyes away from the sparkling stars to marvel at what was once a respectable family’s  house now degraded to ashes. 

There were no sounds left as the night was coming to an end. The nurses and doctors who had come at the aid of the family were slowly leaving and everyone was slowly heading back home except for two people. As George was slowly getting ready to head back home, abandoning his plans tonight due to his exhaustion, he turned around and met the Mr. Hargreeves’ eyes. He never liked those eyes, cold, small and it appeared as though something  was frozen  shut behind them, and before he could realize it George was pulled into a warm embrace.  The two stood there in a mutual capsule of forgiveness and thankfulness. George was thanked for his bravery and his selflessness and in return was offered money for his act of service. But George had politely declined and instead opted to donate that money to Piedmont as a town and for respect. Mr. Hargreeves was more hesitant with the last request but complied since there has clearly been no reason to do otherwise.