Rise of Ruin: A Corruption of Innocents

The night lights of Coruscant are aglow in flashing interchangeable shades. To any other person they would seem mundane, but to a young boy they are everything. His eyes open wide in frenzied delight. The constant hum and whirl of passing ships elevates him. They zoom about in search of questions and nervous decisions. Holoimages miles above his head digitize with complex ads of restaurants and removal creams. All of this is pure delight but there is no time to envy it. Unhappily he moves away from the bewildering lights into dank shadows. This great big concrete jungle awaits with slimy shapes. Deeper into the alley he moves. Bums lay under stained cloths. Dealers hold out there hands with death sticks and brilis barbs. This under world is murderous and unforspoken but he knows what he is looking for. A man comes around the corner. He plants his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hey kid you are a little young to be here." "Move." He pulls his shoulder away. He gives a hearty laugh as he moves on. "Whatever." As he makes around the corner his heart sinks. Whatever he expected to find is burned away in harsh reality. Clutching to the wall he peaks, a green eye tethered, unable to look away. His insides seem to squirm. Sweat beads down his face. An overmastering fear curdles at the bottom of his stomach. There is a rough, sharp, pain in his heart, it is careless. Two figures hang by the wall. She unbuckles his belt and the pants slide down to his ankles. There is a moment of fumbling in the shadows. She is raised around his hips, bare legs sticking out. No amount of desertion can make the boy look away. There bodies grind together in grimy abandon. There is a soft prolific squeel from the man. A tear runs down the boy's face. After a few moments of seizurement they adjust their clothes. Money is exchanged and the man is gone. She presses to the wall pulls out a cigarette, lights it and takes a long puff. He closes his eyes trying to get the image out of his head but it hangs there. When he opens his eyes he moves from the spot, heart at an unelevated rise. His walk is steady, determined. She notices him right away. "Dekor what are you doing here? You are suppose to be home." There is contempt in her voice. His voice is angry, passionate. "How can I stay home when you are doing this? And you call yourself a mother!" There is venom in his voice. She shows it right back with a slap to his face. "You ungrateful little bastard! How much have you seen?" "ALL. OF. IT!" Embarrassment and shame rings her face. "You have no right." Her voice is falting. "I have every right." He pulls out a holopad from his pocket. "Well mother how many credits will you take to sleep with me?" His finger traces the pad. "Stop it!" "How MUCH?" She slaps it out of his hands. "Get out of here. Your not my son!" The tears fill his eyes. The words ring over and over again in his head, matching the hard thump."I despise you!" It slips from his tongue easily. His heart hardens like stone, he can no longer feel the pain. "You have taken everything from me! I hate you!" There is nothing. He turns his back to her. "I am not your son." Then he is gone.