A cure for apathy

She was strange, this woman. The way that she moved, the look in her eye. Beat wondered if there was something wrong with her. Was she sick? Had she already caught the curse? Words flew from the lady's mouth and Beat's brow furrowed slightly. Everyone was cursed? Did everyone's family die when they came close to them? No. His did though.

Her next words brought the boy's dirtied pelt to bristling. They were accusatory words. How could she even begin to understand? His gaze narrowed as she spoke. She believed in gods? That might explain a few things. Beat... did not. The gods had never done anything for him other than ignore his pain and suffering. He was a child. Children were supposed to be happy and carefree. The black and white boy was anything but. As he stood, the woman's words sliced into him. Yes, he did know that he was mortal. And yes, he knew that he killed those around him. There was no changing that certainty in him.

She continued to poke fun at him but asked his name in the process. A heavy sigh pulled from the boys chest, prominent rib cage rising and falling. "Beat." His head dropped in a defeated, dejected manner. He truly was a mess. How could he ever expect anyone to understand? He should just stop telling people about the curse. The child's haunches folded and he lowered himself to the ground. He was tired. Tired of everything.