Every young boy

"What are little boys made of?

What are little boys made of?

          Slugs and snails

          And puppy-dogs' tails,

That's what little boys are made of."

He lightly pressed the blade on his soft skin, a viscous and consistently liquid came through the slit. "There's nothing like this inside of me" he thought, "no slugs, snails or puppy-dogs' tails... What am I made of?". He calmly led his lips to the viscous liquid that insisted to get out, almost shy now, but insistent enough to slip through his fragile skin. "What am I made of...?". He would like to be like every other young boy of his age... so why he was transforming into something like this? Surrounded by people but feeling alone, always feeling apart from others , always feeling different. Nobody would ever be able to understand it, this feeling of being different in so many ways. How was it possible for one human being feel this way? The reason behind all this might actually be something that nobody could ever understand even in their wildest dreams or in the vastness of a deep anger.

At school he was the most intelligent and studious one. All his mates praised him and surrounded him with talks and laughs trying to get his attention, but he didn't really cared about that. 

When asked what he wanted to be when he grow up, as other boys always had 3 different answers, he always kept only one: "I want to be a scientist". "Why a scientist?" people asked, "because scientists can discover things... they can figured out everything.". To the most of the people he was a bright and silent boy who kept a world of his own, a kid beside his age, a child with a bright future.

What a commotion. That day was a commotion. It was a chilly and foggy day when in a backyard of an old and abandoned house, cracked by the time and by the mustiness, far away from the neighborhood, a little boy with a little hatchet was squatting down, looking at a snail that was moving slowly on the dry grass. But there was something different about that scenario. When an old man saw the boy among the fog, he stepped into something that made a familiar sound of wet grass, as if it had rained the last night, but it hasn't. Step by step the man waved his arms in front of himself, trying to remove the fog and see better. That day was a commotion. Beside the bright boy, a boy not much older than him was laying on the soaked grass by blood that looked almost black because of the weather. "What am I made of?", whispered looking at the snail.

Suddenly the boy dropped the hatchet and crawling towards the dead body starting to lick the blood. The man let out a shriek of horror and the boy turned to him with bulging eyes and wide open mouth leting out a shrill squeak. The man ran away, screaming that the bright boy had gone insane.

When a group of man arrived the old cracked house, there was nothing but a dead body, a little hatchet and a black cat covered in blood. The cat looked at those man in panic with confused eyes and giving a low meow that seemed a slight chuckle it turned quickly and ran, disappearing into the fog.

Spirit

That day in the city, every young boy was seen holding a treasure. For anyone who looked at them, it would seem they were stealing from the bank or a jewelry store. Some of them tried to hide them inside their pockets, but everyone could hear the sound of stones and see the tip of feathers going up and down as they walked very fastly.

The boys were gathering somewhere.

There was a cave outside the city, not so far from the gates. And it was supposed to be a very dark, wet and unattractive place for a person to stay in. But it wasn't. The month before, every young boy in the city helped to turn it into a room. Not a proper room, but there were wood planks pretending to be floor, there was fabric attached to the cold gray walls and there were old cushions and pillows for them to sit. And the older of the boys who happened to be the richest of them brought ten oil lanterns to light the place.

The boys arrived. One by one, all alone, they went to the deepest place of the cave. Step by step, they entered the darkness. The feet hesitating, wanting to go back, not sure where to go because it was impossible to see. Finally, when they found out the farest place their bravery could allow them to go, they stoped and left the treasure on the floor. And then, they went back. Though it was the same path, following the light to the entrance of the cave seemed much shorter than the way in.

The youngest of them had blonde hair -a dark gray blonde hair-; and blue eyes -shiny blue-silvered eyes. And he was the first to enter the cave. The other boys didn't know, but he was also the bravest of them all.

That day, he was the only one who went so deep in the cave he was able to feel the air getting warmer and comfortable. He was the only one that heard something sliding on the floor, coming slowly into his direction. And yet he wanted to stop and run back even forgetting to leave the treasure kept in his hands, he continued to walk. Shaking. But he walked until he feel a warm wind (it smelled like sulfur) coming from ahead, breathing. That moment, he understood there was something living inside the cave.

That day, he was the only one who saw the dragon.

At begining the boy did not understand how was he able to actually see the dragon. But it wasn't so dark anymore. Bright light coming from the walls illuminated all around, he realised they were made of pure gold with bright, translucid, colored and probably precious stones encrusted on it. The dragon snored trying to catch back the attention and scarying the boy. It was red, the size of a dog and if it weren't for the wings on his back (tiny, black burned, with a few feathers) he would have thought it was an unknown species of lizard. He noticed there were wooden toys bound to the ceiling, dog fur, and shoe laces.... Suddenly, the dragon stood onto his back paws and sat, crossing the arms. His thin tongue, purple-red, parted in half on the tip, came out like the tongue of a snake, smelling the prey. He started to examine his nails, looking bored. He spoke in a boyish voice as if he himself seemed to be just a child.

They talked.

He knew the boy's name was Morgan and that he was born in the forest because her mother tried to run away from his father and got lost in the woods. The day after, she came back to the city and never tried to run away again because her doubts vanished when her husband held her in his arms and she knew she was loved. The dragon also knew the reason Morgan was able to find him inside the cave was not bravery. Because being brave means fighting against the fears. And the boy wasn't scared because he didn't know what to expect. Morgan wanted to ask a lot of questions. But he didn't. He couldn't. And then, when time came, the dragon told him to go back to the entrance of the cave. "I am with you" he said when the boy started to walk. He entered once again in the shadows but not before catching the glimpse of a silver necklace stuck in the wall and it was much alike her mother's...  The youngest of the boys went back and sat with the other one over the pillows and watched them diving into the darkness one by one, scared and shaking.

Morgan didn't know the next year he wouldn't be able to go so deep inside the cave. He didn't know every young boy in the city has met a dragon. And they were never ever able to meet them again.