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“I’ll be right back,” I said to her as she trailed her eyes over all their pieces. She waved me off as though simply speaking to her was equivalent to me having been bothering her all day.

I headed straight for my car in desperate need of some fresh air.

After I loaded my car I lit one of my blunts, taking a deep pull.

I slowly exhaled, allowing the effects to flow through me. I made my way over to an empty bench, sitting down as I rested back.

Out of my peripheral vision I didn’t miss a little girl, probably aged six or seven, eyeing me down with suspicion.

Her steps were slow as she approached me.

When my eyes snapped toward her, her body did a sudden jolt of fear, but the little brat did well at masking it instantly.

I brought my blunt to my lips, taking a deep pull and she stepped in front of me, tapping my knee.

“Smoking causes cancer,” she informed me as I blew the smoke in the opposite direction.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers?” I questioned, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

She nodded. “Yeah. She did.” There was brief silence as she rocked back and forth on her heels a and my eyes dropped to her almost blinding blue shoes, covered in glitter. “But my daddy would kick your ass if you hurt me. So I’m not scared of you.”

Suddenly, my interest was piqued.

She overflowed with confidence. Like her statement was a fact. And there was not a single doubt in that little body of hers.

My reply was playful. “Oh yeah?”

Again, she nodded in certainty. I took another pull, and this time she plopped down beside me, swinging her legs.

“Do you have kids?”

I almost broke out in a smile. “No. Now stop pestering me.”

I stood, walking over to the trashcan as I tossed my dead blunt inside. Before I could turn, I heard the gentle patter of her feet approaching me and I sighed.

There was a slight tug on my belt. “Are you a bad guy?”

I turned around to face her, placing my hand on the gun she had just seen tucked into my waistband.

“Cool gun.” She added.

My reply was coated in frustration. “Get lost, kid.”

I continued making my way to the traffic light, stopping as a couple cars passed, and of course, the little bedbug followed me.

I felt her tiny hand grip onto mine as she stood beside me, big blue eyes peering up at me innocently.

I yanked my hand from hers as the car in front of me passed, and made my way across the road.

“I should always hold an adult’s hand when I cross the street!” she called out behind me but I ignored her. Not your fucking father, kid. “Wait!”

As soon as I reached the other side, a loud honk sliced through the air.

I looked back, watching the little shit stand in the middle of the road, eyes wide, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights.

I rushed over, snatching her before the car swiveled around us and she clung onto me.

With a deafening crash, the car slammed into the traffic light, and my eyes fell shut for a second.