Timothy was a shallow child with pale white skin and a unruly mop of ginger hair. He preserved very few people to be his friend. Despite having this choice, nobody found interest in the boy. Timothy lived in a small town called Hawea flat where his house was placed on 13 Long Grass Place. He never really had time to talk to a female figure as his parents split up twelve years prior before he could even walk. The closest thing to a mother was an English woman named Dani that his father met at a local pub called Kai. Dani grew up in Yorkshire, England where she was abused; hence she migrated to New Zealand. Timothy knew she was going to be his well… ‘mother’ as soon as she moved in from her flat in Wanaka.
The classroom is Timothy's (or Tim as his father calls him) favourite area in the school due to the countless times he was bullied in and outside of school. Walking home, Tim was singing a song that he faintly remembered his mum singing to him on the phone. Blackbirds singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly.’ Tim sung chirpily when he was stopped by a sudden twitching figure in the distance blocking his pathway home. He couldn't tell distinctly who it was due to the blurred figure but the two things he could point out was the blue balloon the figure was holding and the sudden ear bleeding hush that passed through his ear. As he creeped over, the sound became more and more dull until the sound was eliminated by Tims confusion to why the balloon was still there and the figure wasn’t. Tim wondered about that night and if he was imagining it until he peered out of his bedroom window and saw the exact figure hushing into his ear. Before he could think he screamed… “DAD!” His father came rushing out, “do you see it, do you see it?” Timothy shrieked, ‘see what his father said. “The, the,”’ nothing was there but a blue helium balloon floating outside his window. “Wow cool balloon” His father said sarcastically. “There was a figure… a, a, a man outside the window,” Tim said. “Maybe you're imagining things” “I’m not, belive me please.” “Goodnight Tim.” “Goodnight dad,” Tim said angrily.
Seeing this man repeatedly has reinvented a new daily routine day after day, hour after hour. The figure appeared and the remains of the balloon came back with the man as he disappeared into Tim's glare. It never connected to Tim that these reappearances had consequences. Once Tim's house was near he couldn't help but notice his reflection in the puddle happened to blur black eyes. The figure behind him, he turned back with black eyes and saw nothing. Not even the balloon. He looked in the puddle again hoping not to see the man. Tim had a dull face as he noticed he could see the once silhouetted figure clearly. As his eyes grew darker the figure became more and more manly.
The man had a distinctive pale face, brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore a black tuxedo and always hunched his back. Bolting home Tim begged his father to get rid of the black. “What do you mean?” “The black eyes, please get rid of them!” “I,” don't know what you are on about wee man” Tim's father said. He ran outside crying, hoping to catch a breath of fresh air. Crying he opened his eyes but couldn't see. He turned around in the black abyss and saw one blue balloon but no man. His eyes turned to black flakes as they crusted into tims hands and as tears welled up in his eyes but none appeared. The only tears were the tears of his fathers as they dripped over his son's cold dead body as he wondered what he could have done.
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