He killed the child

A young kid in his early teens walked to school holding his younger brother who was in such a age when school usually meant a place to unite with co-agers and play until they realize hunger. As the bell rang, a man who resembled to be an adult, but actually was a person in his early twenties waited rolling his moustaches, smiling a bit, but obviously not laughing. His acquintances often said, they had forgotten how he looked whenever he smiled. He walked with the young kids and asked them to have their lunch and take a nap.

The man often looked at the kids as they played. He saw them smile with joy. He seldom spoke anything. He spoke only when he felt that thee time was getting over. At the call of his one word, the kids ran to their home.

The man fearlessly killed the child. He thought nothing. He wasn't so but he acted merciless. He always saw his younger brothers play and he often thought to join them. He refained himself always. He was still a kid within. He too wanted to play football, walk across streets aimlessly, eat icecream, play holi and live for the child within him. He couldn't. He had already killed the child within him. He had to be an exemplar of a perfect man who was socially accepetable for his brothers. To be an exemplar for his brothers, he had killed himself.