I think it was his eyes, yes it was that he had the eyes of a vulture. Those pale blue eyes piercing into me. They didn't belong on that man's body. I'd walk past that crack head every day and he'd stare at me with those evil eyes. He'd sit there dirty, toothless and tear me apart with those eyes. For a moment he'd know me I'd be naked shown to the world by his eyes.

One-day, walking home he was there staring at me, and he talked to me, he asked me for money. I looked around, no one was nearby. I stomped into his face. As blood streamed from his forehead he responded by simply staring at me. I slammed my foot into his face again and again breaking into his skull. After his face was bloodied and broken I took off my shoes and placed them in the dumpster he was sitting next to.

The next day was beautiful my walk home only disturbed by having to walk past a crime scene. After getting home there was a knock on my door. As I opened the door, there they were. Those eyes tearing into me. The cop eyes pale blue impossible for a decent human to have. He saw me he knew me he knew everything. He told me he had some questions. I swung a fist at him then there was a bang.