Delivery Boy

- by Chio

Table of Contents

Part One:  A Child of Curiosity
Part Two:  Bedtime Routine
Part Three:  Morning Duties
Part Four:  Punishment
Part Five:  My Child
A Child of Curiosity

	You know that feeling when you have a hole inside of you – like you're missing something but you're not sure what it is?  I once knew a boy who often felt this way and would do anything to fill this hole...often in ways that I did not approve of.  He was the first angel who I took under my wing, but I feel like he will always be my favourite.

Some people may wonder how new angels are born or, rather, chosen.  I honestly do not remember how or why I was chosen, but I remember everything well about the weeks that lead-up to my decision to recruit this boy.  Our names do not matter and this is the story of how I met and fell for this boy...

Being a recruiter is often very boring and thankless.  Our days often consist of watching the same types of humans doing the same behaviours while they foolishly think they'll be chosen to be among us.  They lie to each-other, take advantage of the vulnerable, lust for those they do not love – and all the while, feeling proud of the person they are.  These are not the fools that we favour.

I was still a young angel – eager and excited about my first mission to the human realm.  I tell you, it's a strange feeling returning to this place – walking around and behaving like any other without anyone suspecting you are anything other than another boring human.  What, you think we sit in clouds, watching you from above?  Hah – we try to look and act just like you.  You may pass us on the street and never suspect a thing; but if you get to know us, you will likely get the feeling that something is off.

It often takes weeks, or even months, for me to find someone of interest who I think could be worthy – and even then, they often let-me-down.  I had a-few potentials at-first, but they eventually reminded me of why I distrust the human race.  This boy, I would say, was not much different.  No, I did not think him special and he did not stand-out very-well to me...yet, there was something that kept drawing me to him.

I first met him wandering a grocery store.  No, I don't need substance to survive; but it's nice to feel human and alive again – you know?  He was a young boy, no more than 10 or so, with a messenger-bag over his shoulder and looking at cheap, canned food.  I watched him for a-while and it did not appear like he had an adult with him – someone who could pay for the food.  He kept grabbing whatever he could fit in his bag until, eventually, tried to walk out of the store without paying.  Yes, I say try because he was indeed stopped by security and questioned about the canned food in his bag.  The security had grabbed his arm rather harshly and would not let go, and while everyone else would just walk-by, I felt it my duty to help the kid out.

The child locked his eyes with mine as I approached before confronting the two.  While the security seemed shocked and became defensive at my request to pay for the stolen goods, the child did not show any fear.  I think the security was rather embarrassed as it did not take long before he pretended to have more important things to do once I had paid for the child's goods.  The child, however, would only show confusion towards me.

"Thank-you, sir..."  He would say before quickly scurrying away.

I did not need to follow him, as, once I touch someone, I learn the basics of that person's life.  He lived not far from here, was very hungry, had two sisters with a father and already, I felt that emptiness inside of him.  It was the first time I had felt this emptiness and I did not know what it was at-first...it made me curious and want to know more.

Bedtime Routine

	It would be late-evening before I decided to visit his home.  One of those buildings with cloned homes all connected together in a suburban neighbourhood – I guess they're called town-houses.  Now, while we can't walk through walls or become invisible, we do have very good senses – including hearing.  So, I leaned against the wall of the home and listened-in on what was going-on inside.  I was not very impressed but, also, not very surprised...

It started-out fine.  The three kids and father had just finished their dinner of canned beans and bread.  Seems they don't have any vegetables or fruit, but that's not too uncommon.  The father had a beer and would go to watch TV while the boy and his two older sisters would go upstairs to their separate rooms.  The girls would play with their dolls while the boy would, oddly enough, play alone with an Ouija board.  No, there's nothing wrong with these toys – I just find it odd that one would be played with alone.

After a-while, the two sisters would come knocking on his door, giggling to each-other as they brought some things with them.  The boy slide the board under his bed before opening the door for his sisters as he began undressing in the centre of the room – like he was expecting them and knew what to do.  Once undressed, one sister would dress him in the clothing of her younger self while the other would apply some make-up to his face.  A-little blush, eyeliner, and lipstick on the boy who just stood there in his emptiness.

Once finished, the sisters left to return to their room while the boy, now looking like a prepubescent girl with too much make-up, sat on the side of his bed and waited as he heard his drunken father half-stumble up the stairs.  He did not knock as the door was already open.  He sat next to the empty boy as he petted and groomed him for a-while, before laying him down on his bed that was clearly too small for an adult.

The drunken father would slide the boy's girly underwear down his legs as the boy lay there...obedient and motionless like he was not even there.  The only emotion I saw from the boy was when he clenched his teeth and gripped his sheets tightly as his father entered him.  It did not take long before his father finished with him, pulled his pants up, gave the boy a kiss, and left to sleep in his own room.

The boy put his hand to his lips as blood would coat his fingertips – it seems he had bit his tongue when he had clenched his teeth.  He would then change into his pyjamas and curl-up under his covers to hug his teddy-bear tightly. The young boy did not cry – I felt only emptiness inside of him as he closed his eyes and slowly drifted away to sleep.
Morning Duties

	The alarm-clock would go off at around 5:00am.  I guess I had fallen-asleep against the wall of the house as the boy had been sleeping in his room.  He awoke to turn-off the alarm and get dressed, in his normal boy clothes, without taking a shower or brushing his teeth.  There was a stack of rolled-up papers left by the house's front-door that he put in a-couple shoulder-bags before walking down the street.

Eating some more bread as he delivered a paper to each house on the block while I followed from a distance.  I think he was too tired to notice if someone was following him anyway.  A-few of the neighbours greeted him as he handed them their morning papers – ruffled his hair and thanked him as he put on a smile and continued on his job.  I actually got the impression that he enjoyed this part of his day and would even get some snacks along the way to satiate his hunger.

It felt like each home he would visit, he would be one more away from his own.  It would not bring him happiness, but it would bring him some sense of relief.  While there were some dogs that would bark and try to scare him away, he continued on with his work and often stopped to pet and hug the pets that were more welcoming to him.  Yes, he enjoyed this part of his day and, this would make me enjoy it as-well.

When he returned to his home, his father was already gone and he would finally be-able to take his morning shower.  The oldest of his sisters would give him a comforting hug but stayed at home as he and the other would wait outside for the school-bus to pick them up.  The two stood there without looking at or speaking to one-another...there was definitely distance between them.  I did not bother to follow them to school.

Punishment

	The school bus returned at it's normal time but neither the boy nor his sister seemed to be on it.  It wasn't for another hour that they both return in their father's car...who seemed to be rather upset with them.

“A fight – at school?” he growled at the two.
“I'm sorry, father...” they would reply, almost in-sync to each-other.
The father would shake his head and continue his barking, “You will both be punished, you can count on that!”

Their father would open the door and push the two inside – almost tripping them as he did.  He slams the door shut behind him and tells the two to go-to their rooms as the oldest daughter had already started on making dinner for everyone.  I guess she stays home to do the housework while the other two are at school.  The father did not reek of alcohol, so I think he at-least didn't spend the day at the bar...must be some generic job by how he was dressed.

As the girl sat in her room and sought some enjoyment bouncing a ball off the wall, the boy would once again play with his Ouija board.  He would push the planchette around the board – seemingly writing his own answers.  He would not speak, so I did not know what he had asked or the answer given either, but it would be another odd behaviour that would draw me to this kid.  After a-while, he would push the board back under his bed before sitting in-wait.

The oldest sister would call everyone for dinner which would be mostly rice.  Same as yesterday, the father would have his beer with the food as the other three would quickly eat as much as they could.  There didn't seem to be any kind of entertainment for them downstairs, so they would quickly head up to their rooms and find things to entertain themselves with.  This time, the boy would join the girls in their room to have a tea party.  The eldest would treat him like the prince of the party, but the younger sister would sit by herself writing in a diary.  The two were definitely upset with each-other.

A-couple hours pass before father stomps up the stairs.  He tells the eldest sister to wait in the hallway when he enters the room...he keeps the other two inside.  With big sister outside in the hallway, he instructs both kids to undress for him – which they both obey without question as, I'm sure, he will punish them further if they were to resist.  He sits on the bed and watches them both while pulling his pants and underwear down – already stiff at their sight.

After the younger brother and sister were fully undressed, he would command the girl to dance for him as he told the boy to sit down between his legs.  I watch as my boy kneels between his father's legs with the erect member throbbing near the young boy's face.  After telling the boy to 'open-up', he would pull his head into his lap to force the boy's lips to slide down what length he was able to fit inside him.  I really hate this father, but I made a promise to merely be a spectator.

As the father watched his naked daughter dance, his hand would continue to guide the boy's head – making his mouth slide up and down half the length of his throbbing member.  The boy would slide his hands into the side of the bed to grip something as he continued to obey his father's orders and guidance.  The poor boy would often cough and gag on the swollen member forced between his lips as the father's breaths would become faster and heavier.

Sure enough, the man would grip my boy's head and hold him down into his lap as his member would throb and release it's load into the boy's mouth.  Coughing and gagging, the boy would struggle to remain composed as his mouth filled with what the man emptied into him.  With an audible sigh, the mean would release his grip from the boy's head and let him breathe after commanding the small boy to swallow.  The boy would obey him and reluctantly swallow as he clearly did not enjoy the taste of it.

It was then that something happened which I had not expected.  Still focused on his daughter, the boy would stand as his hand remained gripped on something from the bed – he was holding a knife!  I must have missed it!  He must have gotten it from the dinner table and hid it there, knowing what would happen – was this what he was asking the board in his room?

The man still in somewhat of a daze, my child would thrust the sharp object into the man's neck a-few times before standing in-front of him to watch; once again, with no emotion on his face.  The man would struggle and gurgle as he choked on his own blood before falling to the floor.  Hearing the unknown sounds, the eldest sister would run into the room to find her younger sister and brother hugging – embracing each-other as the man bled-out on the carpet.

I wasn't sure what to do.  They would all get dressed before the boy would return to his room and sit on his bed while the two girls sat on their own – not seemingly bothered by the corpse on their floor.  I did the only thing I could think of – I broke into their home and ran upstairs to the boy's room.  I just stared at him a-while as he stared back at me.

“You're...that older boy from the mall.”  He would comment.
I nodded and and held out my hand, “Please, come with me...I'm going to get you out of here.”

He sat and thought a moment before reaching-out to hold my hand as I would guide him downstairs and out from his home.

I kneeled to his level.  “I'm sorry, but I cannot take all of you...would you rather stay here with your sisters?”
He shook his head.  “No, sir.  My sisters will be fine without me.”

I nodded, somewhat relieved, as I stood back up and continued to take him with me down the street.  It would be a long walk, so I carried him most of the way as the curious boy would not try to resist or run away – he seemed to either trust me or just not care any-more.  This made me only want to care for him even more.

After several blocks of carrying the abused boy, we would eventually arrive at the apartment that was assigned to me.  It was dark already, so I did not sense anyone who would have seen us.  Once inside my apartment, it was obvious that the boy was very tired and already dozing-off.  I removed the tainted clothes from his body before tucking him into my bed as he would curl-up and quickly fall-asleep.
My Child

	It was early morning when I awoke with the boy still sleeping next to me.  Sleep was something that I wasn't able to get much of after last night but it seems he would get plenty.  Trying not to wake him, I go-to the kitchen and make a light meal for both of us – this would be the first time I could remember having to cook for more than just myself.  I make-sure it's a complete meal with the food groups as, I presume, the boy must be malnourished.  I set the table and leave the food there as I then go to take a shower.

“What am I doing?”  I thought to myself.  “...I can't look after a child while I'm supposed to be scouting others.  What about his school?  How will I afford him?  Does he even...”

Then it hit me...  What if this child is what I was meant to find?  Are they really suitable to be an angel?  No – how could they be?  They had just murdered a man.  That man did deserve it though...and it's not like the child wouldn't be better-off without him.  Are his sisters alright?  The boy did say they would be, but, he is just a boy...

I finish my shower and get dressed before finding the boy in the kitchen – eating the meal I had prepared and seemingly enjoying it.  I'm glad he is happy for now...but I will still need to figure-out what to do with him for the long-term.  I sit down at the table opposite of him with my meal in-front of me but I do not eat.  I watch the boy finish his food before he wipes his lips and looks at me from across the table.

His eyes – I look into them and no-longer feel that emptiness that I had once sensed inside of him.  He puts on a slight smile staring back at me with what I felt was...happiness and safety.  Perhaps this was meant to be, then.  Perhaps this boy could be what I was looking for and, at the very-least, save him from his previous life.  Yes – I will give him a try as, maybe...an angel in training.  This child...my child.