Cigarette Butts

A short story about a young girl and trust. It's actually the prologue to something I'm planning on writing in the future but I thought the prologue could also work as a short story.

The petite girl waltzed down the Kilman Street. She had her blue blanket clutched in her hands and her hair was still tied into the piggy tails she’d worn that day. They ribbons held her hair up in their fashion, making the girl look innocent when no one believed she was.

Still she continued down the street, completely lost, comforted only by the clicking of her red sandals against the wet pavement. Rain poured over her head, cooling her arms and legs that her stepfather had burned just an hour before with the butt of his cigarettes. And whilst immensely grateful, the young five-year-old was scared that the rain would cause illness to jump on her.
But she kept walking. She didn’t know where she was going but in her child’s mind she believed she was walking towards safety.
She stopped in front of a big white house. The lights were all on and she thought she could hear laughter from inside. She remembered how her stepfather laughed as she cried out in pain. Was there another five-year-old in there being burned with cigar butts?

Bravely surged through her, filling her bones and giving her the courage to storm past the pure white mail box and knock on the pure white door.
She stood on her tiptoes to knock braced herself by holding the small golden slit in the door meant for packages.
Her eyes were sore from previous crying and her legs were sore from walking but she felt a sort of excitement. What if this girl that she saves needs to get away as well? They could go together and find a safe place together.
She could hear footsteps and almost lost her nerve. Waiting was the most frightening thing, her mother had always told her, because when waiting we can’t be sure of what will happen and uncertainty is man’s worst enemy. She heard the door handle turn and the door began to move. She let go of her hold on the slit in the door and stood down on her feet instead of her tiptoes. She was short for her age and barely came past her stepfather’s knee.
The stranger stepped out of the door, a glass of whiskey clutched in his hand. A smile filled his face as he looked around for the knocker. He almost overlooked the small girl but in the corner of his eye spotted her golden curls.
“Hello,” he greeted, bending down to look her in the face. He had dark grey eyes and dark hair streaked with grey. Smile lines formed around his mouth and eyes and he even had lines in his forehead. Suddenly everything the girl was going to say flew from her mind. He looked like a nice man, like a kind man. Not the kind of man who would hurt children.
She didn’t know what to say and instead stood there, dripping wet, with her eyes wide and mouth partially open.
The man’s smile dropped from his face and turned to a look of concern.
“Where are your parents, little one?” he asked. She shrugged. Her voice was hoarse when she started to speak.
“They told me to go.” She didn’t cry and instead spoke with a voice of indifference. She didn’t want to cry in front of this stranger. She wanted to be a big, strong girl.

“Come inside,” he said, moving to the side so she could fit through. He stood to his full height, which was very tall, and followed the girl inside.
She didn’t even realize when he clicked the lock shut.

Author's Note

I wrote this for a prologue of something I'm writing which has a completely different vibe to this but I thought 'Wow this could work as a short story' so despite the fact that I'm using this for a prologue I wanted to sort of put it out here as a short story as well.
So yeah, hope you like it.

Reviews

[PandaPeaceful]

I know it's been a while since you've written this but wow. Besides some grammatical errors, the story sparks curiosity. Moreover, I love the cliffhanger!